Page 26 of Chasing Kings


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“Six.”

“How old were you when you started?”

“Are you trying to figure out how old I am in a really unsubtle way?”

Sam blushed. “It wasn’t the goal, but it might be nice to know if I’m cradle robbing. Or if my cradle is being robbed.”

“How old do you think I am?”

She hoped this wouldn’t be like the time she’d incorrectly guessed a patron was “in her thirties” when the woman was still clinging to her late twenties. Sam had learned to simply never offer speculation out loud ever again. The same terror of embarrassment was what kept her from asking even the most obviously pregnant women when they were due.

“Well, you would have had to be at least eighteen when you started. Six years would put you at twenty-four if you started then. Except you said you went to Stanford for three years.”

“Look at you, my little Sherlock Hol

mes.”

Sam gave him a scolding look for interrupting her as they left the hotel to wait for Ethan’s limo.

“So say you graduated at eighteen. Three years in school, plus six in the business? I figure you for about twenty-seven.”

He gave her a slow clap while the driver got out of the limo and came around to open the door for them. “Your logic is solid, no argument. You were close. I’m twenty-eight. You didn’t factor in my year abroad after high school.” He grinned, letting her get into the car first.

“Sneaky.”

“I get around.”

“I bet.”

Ethan got into the car with her. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Only every time you think I’m getting weirded out by this whole thing. So, yeah. You’ve mentioned it about a dozen times so far.” With him sitting beside her, their thighs touching, she could feel the warmth of his body through the thin jersey material of her dress. He was wearing black trousers and a silver-gray shirt that managed to make his eyes even bluer. When she’d first gotten a look at him in the lobby, her breath had gotten stuck in her throat, and she wondered how it was possible for a man to be so casual yet so impossibly hot.

He hadn’t done anything to keep his curly hair in check, so it was just as soft and unruly as before. Apparently the notion of shaving hadn’t occurred to him. His jaw remained peppered with stubble, giving him a roguish appearance.

He looked like a bad boy.

“You’re staring at me,” he observed.

“Am I? I can’t help it. You look so pretty.”

He snorted, clearly thinking she was teasing him because of his compliment, so Sam set her hand on his thigh and leaned in close.

“You smell good too,” she told him.

Okay, admittedly she was a bit nervous about being around those girls, and pretending otherwise couldn’t make the knot in her stomach disappear. But maybe there was a way to ensure Ethan would be thinking about her and only her for the duration of the night.

She inched her hand higher so her fingers were brushing his groin. Even through his pants, the size of his cock was intimidating, and it wasn’t hard yet.

“You smell good yourself,” he replied, as if her hand wasn’t on his crotch. The naughty glimmer in his eye was a dead giveaway that he knew what she was up to. Without fumbling to find the button, he raised the glass partition between them and the driver.

Sam’s pulse doubled. What was she doing? It was one thing to fool around with a guy in the privacy of a hotel room, but fooling around in the back of a limo? This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her.

Maybe that’s why she liked it so much.

She’d spent most of her life under the scrutiny of her entire town and didn’t dare step out of line for what it would mean to her reputation and her family. But her parents were both dead now, her brother had moved away, and she was relatively well-respected in the community. It was time to loosen up a bit and do something just for her. Something she would enjoy without worrying what anyone else might think of her.

And in that moment, however out of character it might be, she wanted to give Ethan back some of what he’d done for her the night before.

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