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Even as her body had relaxed, her brain had been whirling at full speed since Sam had discovered her. As if her thoughts had conjured him, the door to the suite slammed shut.
It was too early for Sam to be back and Ellie jumped into action, wrapping an oversized towel around her body before rushing out of the bathroom.
Seeing Sam reassured her, but only until she noticed his face. Closed off and angry, he’d obviously gone to the home gym and was in his sports gear and dripping with sweat, his suit and shirt in his hand.
Ellie went to him, but Sam evaded her hand. “Not now.” He threw the bundle of clothes in the corner before heading to the bathroom.
“Sam...”
“I said not now!” His shout stopped her in her tracks, not from fear, but from surprise as the bathroom door slammed shut in her face.
She hadn’t known Sam Sarkhan for long, but such an explosion was completely new. Even when he’d tried to push her away, he’d done so with a stern and cold resolution and not the volatile anger she saw on her face.
Her reaction was unusual, and it pissed her off, which was even more surprising a reaction for her. From the moment Ellie had been caught in this situation, she’d tried to keep it together, to find a way to contribute and survive despite battling her own demons. She may have a deep compassion for what he’d suffered, but no way would he treat her like that. And he wasn’t the only one who had something to say.
Steam had filled the bathroom quickly, and Ellie almost stumbled on the sports gear strewn over the tiles. But what stopped her forward momentum was the male form she could detect through the fogged glass of the shower stall.
She clearly remembered how Sam looked; virile, muscled, with a wealth of golden skin that made her mouth water. It would be so easy to lose herself in the memory of his clever mouth and busy hands, but she wouldn’t be sidetracked.
“You have no right to push me aside like that. You might be angry at me, but you can’t dismiss me without hearing what I have to say.”
The form behind the glass stilled, his voice deep and menacing. “I said not now, Ellie.”
“Too bad for you, because I’m not stopping and now you have to listen.”
All she could see was Sam, immobile, his arms on the wall, his head bowed under the spray.
“I don’t need your anger or dismissal. You’re in an untenable situation, one that brings back memories from the worst time in your life, but remember that I’m here too, right beside you.” His silence pushed her to continue. “I’m scared but I don’t want to shut down. It would be so easy for me to return to the state I was in when we first spoke. Even if our chances aren’t good, I want to fight. That’s why I asked Panem to give me something to do. Anything so I could get out of this room, because I knew I had a better chance of finding something, anything, to help you if I’m not locked up twiddling my thumbs all day long.”
Sam sighed, and it encouraged Ellie to move forward, close to the stall. Mimicking his pose, she pressed her palms against the glass. “My sacrifice is insignificant compared to yours. I don’t mind cleaning bathrooms or polishing floors, even for Jamieson Finch, if it means I have the opportunity to get my hands on useful information for you. I’ve done worse jobs before. And Finch likes to see a woman on her knees at his feet, so it might be useful.”
With a loud shout, Sam slammed his fist into the tiles in front of him, his shoulders hunching even more. Ellie found herself inside the shower before she could think. The moment her hand touched his back, he exploded, and in a blur, Ellie found herself shoved against the wall, part of the water cascading over her, soaking her towel.
Caught against the unyielding man keeping her in place, she could see Sam was close to losing it. “Why are you pushing me? Can’t you see that I don’t want to hurt you?”
The pain in his voice sliced her deep. “You’ll never hurt me, Sam. I know that.”
Desperation was all over his face. “You don’t understand. When I saw you in that bathroom on your knees, I was furious. Angry at Panem and Finch for making you do that work, looking down on you as if you were dirt under their feet and less than nothing to them.”
Ellie wanted to reassure him, tell him that she wouldn’t take notice of those men, let them decide or define who she was, but Sam rushed to get everything out. “And even though all I wanted was to grab you and get you out of there, seeing you on your knees in front of me, it almost undid me. I felt no better than Finch. How could I want to fuck you so bad in that degrading situation? It was unacceptable.”
When he shook his head, his breathing labored, Ellie started to understand what was torturing him. “I want you too, Sam. There is nothing wrong with it.”
“Not like that! I wanted to use you, take you with no care to you or your pleasure. Like a fucking beast, I thought how you’d service me, and I felt like a god. It scared me and reminded me that half my DNA is from a monster.”
Sam lessened his hold, probably expecting her to run from him screaming. They still had much to learn from each other. Not only did she see Sam as a good man, one fighting his own demons, but he was a protector deep down. He was so strong but he still doubted himself.
It was the man, even with his different sides battling inside him that attracted Ellie. The light and the dark, the soft and the hard, all of those made her stomach clench and her sex pulse.
Ellie undid her towel and slung it away, never breaking eye contact with Sam who was trembling like a wild horse from holding himself back.
When she lowered herself, making sure to slide her wet body against his, it was clear he was as aroused as she was. A half sigh, half groan escaped his lips when she wrapped her fingers around his erection. “What if I want to serve you, Sam? What if I like giving you pleasure and I enjoy your rough hands on me?”
Her tongue flicked over the tip of his bulbous head, and she felt blood rushing in the thickening member. Encouraged by his accelerated breathing, she shifted on her knees, ignoring the discomfort of the hard tiles and focused instead on her own arousal and the expectant man before her.
One hand went to her head as she lavished his length, tracing every ridge and vein. Only then did his hand relax, slowly caressing her wet mane until his fingers loosely grabbed the strands and flexed when she opened her mouth and stopped her teasing by taking him deep.
“Fuck! Shit!”
