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I stretch my legs out in front of me as I ponder her question.
“I don’t know, to be honest.” I shoot her a look. “You know I don’t work at Club Z for the money, right? I have a trust fund from my mom, so it’s not the paycheck keeping me there.”
“Yeah, you’re super lucky that your financial situation is so healthy, but that’s awesome,” my friend says. “I’m happy for you.”
I smile gratefully at Ramona. “I guess I’m just going to take things slow then. I’m not going to give it up permanently right now, but I don’t want to screw things up with Sam either. I kind of want to see where things go.”
My friend nods. “Yeah, no need to rush a decision anyways,” she says wisely. “Just take things slow.”
But then I turn to my buddy.
“Enough about me,” I say, my tone teasing, “what about this hot man you met at the pool? Did you get his name? Do you think you’ll see him again?”
My friend merely shrugs sassily. “No names because that would ruin the fun. But oh god, I need to feel his finger in my bottom again. Girl, I can’t tell you how good it felt, stirring around back there.”
With that, we both dissolve into giggles because only true Club Z girls can have a conversation like this. But in the back of my mind, I wonder about Sam. What would he do if I wanted to go back to my old life? He says he’s not okay with it, but will that sentiment last forever? I suppose only time will tell because I’m a woman with needs. The question is, is the man of the house here to stay, or will he leave once the wind starts blowing in a different direction?
7
Harlow
“Oh my god, this is so spicy!” I pant while fanning my hand in front of my mouth. “Ooooh!”
“I know you’re in pain, but you look adorable,” Sam grins as he watches me chug some water.
I punch him playfully in the arm. “But I’m in agony,” I wail dramatically. “Egg rolls belong in a sweet sauce and not this stuff.”
“Well, I’ll give you some sweet sauce,” Sam says in a sly tone before giving me a telling wink. “The fluid I’m thinking of is salty too, and very gooey, come to think of it.”
“Sam!” I hiss but then immediately giggle. I’m surprised by how flirty and lighthearted Sam can be. I guess I’ve always thought of the man of the house as somewhat stoic or serious—the kind of guy who likes to spend his days reading non-fiction before hitting the gym for his requisite 1.5 hour daily work-out.
But over the last several weeks, I’ve been spending more and more time with the handsome man, and I’ve come to realize that Sam’s insanely funny, not to mention intelligent, astute, and kind. As a result, I’d be crazy not to fall for him. Maybe not in that big ‘I’m completely head over heels in love’ kind of way yet, but I’m skirting dangerously close to catching feelings for my stepfather. His laugh, his smile, his body…
“Earth to Harlow,” Sam’s deep voice draws me back to the present. His bright blue eyes are locked on my face, and that sensuous mouth that I’ve now felt all over my curves is turned up in a sexy half-smile. “Where’d you go there?”
I giggle. “I was dreaming of ice cream,” I fib. “My tongue is still on fire, but the agony is subsiding so I thought visualizing ice cream would help. Besides, how did you find this place? I know I said I like trying new things, but Caribbean-Chinese might be where I have to draw the line.”
Sam chuckles. “Just off of Eater NY. But I warned you that the sauce would be spicy,” he points out. “You’re just too stubborn to take my word for it.”
“I’m being bad,” I confess. “I actually love this restaurant because the flavors are amazing.”
“Good,” Sam says easily. “I hoped you would like it.”
I glance around the restaurant. Calle Dao is a small, intimate place, with space for a few other couples. The décor is cheerful but elegant, and the staff is dressed in crisp black uniforms. I run my hands down my thighs, pulling at my fitted dress. Sam’s eyes rest on my boobs appreciatively, and I shake my shoulders subtly and wink.
“You’re a tease,” he says and then takes a sip of his water. “You are such a vibrant woman, Harlow.”
I blush. “That’s really sweet,” I murmur while sipping my own water. Then, I take a big, steadying breath. “But there’s something I want to tell you, Sam.”
My man’s black eyebrows fly up. “Okay,” he agrees hesitantly. “Should I be afraid?”
“No no, it’s nothing bad,” I reassure him quickly. “Actually it’s good.”
