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“Is that what you think of me?” He furrowed his brow, his expression flicking between anger and remorse. “I didn’t run, Samantha. I left and built a life somewhere else. People do it all the time.”
“Now who’s the liar?” I shot back. “Deny it all you want, Ryan, but we both know the truth. We had sex, you regretted it, and then you ran scared. At least be man enough to admit it.”
I hated how good this argument felt. How cathartic it was to unload on him. It made me feel like a terrible person, and yet, I couldn’t make myself stop. I knew I should just walk away before I said something that was really cruel, but my feet seemed rooted in place, and I couldn’t make myself move.
Ryan’s face was flushed red, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. He looked as though he were winding up to lash me with a response, but a sudden noise from the back room of the store made us both tense.
The next moment, the store’s owner, Betty, walked out into the open. When she spotted me and Ryan standing together, she stopped, her eyes bouncing between us.
Frowning, Betty asked, “What’s going on here? Is everything all right?’
I felt my cheeks flush with mortification.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Ryan beat me to the punch.
“Apologies,” he said. “I just came in to speak with Samantha. I won’t take up anymore of her time.” He turned back to gaze at me. “We’ll continue this later.”
I didn’t respond, just stared back at him in icy silence. He offered Betty a polite goodbye and turned to walk out of the store. It wasn’t until he was gone that I felt like I could breathe again.
Chapter five
Ryan
Mymindwasajumbled mess as I made my way to my childhood home, my confrontation with Samantha swirling through my thoughts. When I’d walked into the bookstore, the first thing that’d struck me was how gorgeous she was. Her body had matured, and she’d gotten curvier. Her dark brown hair was still long and the way it’d fallen around her shoulders made it seem soft and luxurious. I’d wanted to run my fingers through it to see if it was as silky as I remembered. Seven years ago, she’d been short and slim and shy. In the bookstore, she’d tilted her head back and her golden eyes had burned with determination as she’d gazed up at me. I’d grown heated at the mere sight of her.
The Samantha of seven years ago would never have spoken to me like she had today, though. She’d been harsh and blunt, and clearly not intimidated by me at all. Most people I encountered were borderline terrified of me. I preferred that. It made dealing with people easier.
I reached the driveway of my old house, and I drove up to the front door. The house was one of the largest in the town, but one of the more modest of the properties I owned. Still, I’d spared no expense making sure it was taken care of while unoccupied. I’d bought it after my father had died. Dad had loved that house since he’d treated it almost like a shrine to my mother, maintaining it the way she always had when she’d been alive. She’d died when I was still a baby, but my father had never moved on from her. He’d never wanted to. She had been the great love of his life, and he’d always said no other woman would ever mean as much to him.
Putting the car in park, I stared out my windshield at the house for several moments. It was so strange to be back. I half-expected my dad to walk out the door to greet me. Knowing that wasn’t going to happen, my chest ached a bit.
Finally, I got out of the car and grabbed my bag from the backseat. Making my way inside, I dropped my duffle in the large, airy foyer. The interior of the house appeared spotless, which was good. I paid a cleaning service to come in twice a month to keep everything clean, and I also had a maintenance man that came by several times a month to maintain the lawn and check that no repairs were needed. As a result of all the care being given to the house, I was able to simply walk in and know that all was in order for my stay.
It had been a long day, and I needed a drink. I moved through the house toward my father’s old study. Walking into the room, I had to pause as a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm me. I swallowed as I gazed around. Mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, filled with my father’s extensive collection of books. Dad had loved to read. He’d loved books so much that he’d helped Betty Louis finance the opening of the bookstore over twenty years ago.
A huge desk sat opposite of me, a large leather-back chair sitting behind it. There was a bar cart in the far corner with crystal decanters of scotch, my dad’s favorite. I crossed the room to pour myself a glass. Taking a long drink, I sighed as warmth spread through me. The taste and smell of the scotch was familiar and comforting, exactly what I needed after everything that had happened to me today.
I moved to the desk and sat in the large chair. Leaning back, I let my mind wander to thoughts of Sam once more. I was certain she was lying about who her son’s father was. It had to be me. The thought of her going to bed with someone else filled me with such fury, I nearly shattered the glass of scotch in my hand.
I didn’t want to believe that she’d been with anyone else. I knew I had no right to feel that way after leaving her behind, but I’d been her first. She’d saved herself for me. She’d wanted me and only me back then. Sam wasn’t a fickle woman. No matter how angry she was with me, she wouldn’t have been able to shake her feelings for me so quickly.
Wow, I am a selfish bastard, aren’t I?
My mind wandered back to that night when she’d been beneath me, naked and sweet and mine. My jaw clenched as my shaft began to harden. Damn it, why was she a temptation I couldn’t seem to resist?
I remembered the feel of her hands running over my skin, and I shivered. Her lips, so full and pink, pressed to mine…
Groaning, I set my glass down and gave in to my body’s growing need. Undoing my pants, I took my erection out and wrapped my hand firmly around my shaft. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back as I began stroking myself, remembering the curves of her breasts and the way her skin had seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Her body had taken mine so well, despite her inexperience. We’d been a perfect fit, as though made for each other. Clenching my teeth, I moved my hand faster, imagining her on her knees in front of me, gazing up at me with those big, bright eyes, her expression hungry and those plump lips parted.
It was too much. With a groan, my orgasm hit me with such force, I arched my back and let out a shout, pleasure consuming me entirely.
When I was done, I cleaned myself up and sat staring up at the ceiling, irritated with myself for succumbing to my lust so easily. It seemed inevitable, though, whenever I thought of her.
I forced my thoughts away from Samantha’s sweet body, and her potential harem of lovers, and focused back on the fact that her son was likely mine. I needed to know more. Needed to get to the bottom of the matter. There was only one person I knew who could give me more insight into Samantha and her life the years I’d been away.
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I dialed up Jason.
