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Tears stung my eyes from the pull at the nape of my neck. His hold hurt, but his words cut deeper. I felt Dean stiffen against me every night, and I wished it was Sam. I would close my eyes and pretend I was back in bed with Sam, running my fingers over his scarred back, feeling his ice-blue eyes watch me at night.
“Let me go, Dean. You’re hurting me.”
He released me and threw himself back on the bed. “I don’t give a shit what you do with the two hundred, Row. I don’t give a shit what you do at all.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, and made my way to BeLew’s room. I made myself busy, making their beds and picking up their things, and hoping Dean wouldn’t figure out my plan.
The stairwells I once thought took a lifetime to descend, now seemed to fly by at warp speed. Lori droned on and on about Luke and their time together. They were a couple, and she recited every detail of their relationship without hesitation. I was happy for her, but she never disclosed what I wanted to know. What did Sam tell Lori that made her empathize with him?
“It’s not my news to tell,” she would reply when I asked. “When you see him, he’ll discuss it with you. If I could, I would, Rowan. You know that. I don’t keep things from you.”
The sacks in my arms grew heavy, and I knew we were close. Dread coursed through my veins, but so did excitement.
“I hope you don’t mind Luke teaching the boys first aid tonight in the clinic. He got called into work. But hell, they’ll need it wherever we are going. Set the bags down there,” Lori motioned.
“We aren’t taking them in?” I lined the sacks against the wall of the common area.
“You aren’t. The fourth door on the right. Sam’s already there, has been for over an hour,” Lori winked.
I nodded and headed down the hallway. I tapped nervously on my thighs with every step. My hand touched the door and turned the handle, keeping the door shut and flush with the wall while I drew on my courage.
Four weeks since I’d seen him.
The door pulled from the other side, causing me to stumble forward. I felt Sam’s warmth wrap around my body in the darkened room. His familiar scent, the stubble on his cheeks, and the strength in his arms as they held me overwhelmed my senses. My knees felt weak beneath me as Sam lifted me, my legs wrapping around him as his mouth took mine.
The door shut behind us, and my eyes took a moment to adjust to the pitch-black room. That didn’t stop our attack on each other bodies. He pushed me against a steel wall, and I clawed at his back, feeling him swell between my legs. His hands kneaded my ass, pulling me up to the right spot.
“Your leg,” I stammered, breaking our kiss.
“Is better now,” he interrupted, his lips back on mine as he lowered me to a hard surface. His hands opened my pants and pulled them down my thighs.
I yanked at his pants, moving them down. Fuck, his body was perfection.
“You lied to me,” I reminded him as I dragged his shirt over his head. My vision had returned, and Sam hovered over me in his magnificent form. Fuck, his body looked amazing.
“I did, but I thought I could start over. It was a lie by omission.”
I shoved his pants off and felt him spring free on my leg, then slapped his bare chest, pushing him away from me. “Still a fucking lie.”
He grabbed my wrists and drew me to him. “I love you, Rowan.”
“I know,” was all I could manage as he pushed himself into me, his fingers digging into my skin as he plunged into my body. He was fucking me, not making love to me, and I preferred it this way. I wanted him to be ruthless and dominant. I wanted the fight, and I wanted the fuck.
One hand moved around my throat. I could breathe without trouble, but the message was clear. He craved my submission, my attention.
My response was to slap him again in the chest. “How could I love someone I don’t know?” He barely nudged backward and kept a steady pace.
I hit him on the cheek the next time and immediately regretted the act. He stopped, still buried inside me, and moved his face to mine, nose to nose.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “Sam, I’m sorry.”
He exhaled and continued his movements, slower than before. “Hit me again if you want to, Row. Slap me.” I shook my head no, and tears stung my eyes. “You want to hit me. You’re angry. You have a right to be. Do it.”
He pushed himself to the hilt, filling me completely, and held himself there for a moment before he pulled out again. He baited me to hit him – waited to see if I would. I pulsed with need, and he kept pausing. He entered me with such trepidation now I felt myself pulling him back with my heels.
“I hate that you lied to me,” I choked out. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I don’t want to hit you. I’m sorry.”
“I love you, Rowan.” His control remained. He lingered inside me now as I rocked myself against him, desperate for release.
“I won’t hit you again. Please don’t stop,” I begged. Not the place I thought I’d find myself — begging for him — but I couldn’t go back now. He stopped, motionless except for his mouth and tongue, kissing my neck and chest. “I didn’t let Dean have me, Sam. It’s yours like you said. I didn’t let him.”
His back tensed, muscles rippling down his spine. He looked up at me and when his blue eyes met mine, a growl vibrated in his chest. Something had ignited inside him. His movements quickened, and his arms reached completely around my back, holding me against him and lifting me slightly off the table.
“You love me, Rowan.” He was practically climbing onto the table, pumping and pinning me to the back wall.
I whimpered his name when I came, scratching my nails down his back, almost drawing blood. He swelled and filled me with heat, the pulse of his cock throbbing against my walls in an unbearable stretch. “You love me,” he repeated.
I relaxed after my climax, and my body fell limp on the table. He was the perfect sight hovering above me. The man I wanted, despite everything, desperate for me to love him back. What have I done?
“I do, you asshole. I fucking love you.”
