The guy has the balls to narrow his eyes at me.
“Whatever,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets.
I stare him down. “No, not ‘whatever.’ You insulted me this afternoon, and you made our other guests uncomfortable. Continue this behavior and I won’t hesitate to ask you to leave the resort. Understood?”
A flush of embarrassment spreads across his cheeks. He looks away.
Looks downright sheepish. I bite back a grin.
“I’m done here,” he says at last.
“You should’ve been done hours ago,” I reply. “Good evening.”
Samuel and I watch fourteen make his way around the pavilion toward the main house.
And then he’s gone.
Without thinking I drop my head against Samuel’s shoulder, the fabric of his suit jacket silky smooth against my skin. I take a long, deep breath, closing my eyes as I try to gather myself.
He smells so damn good.
My knee joints liquify. My heart hammers. My body is hollowed out and hungry.
Hungry for more of this. Touch. Electricity. Safety.
“I know David only likes babies,” I manage. “But maybe Eddie has a thing for dickheads.”
Samuel’s massive shoulders shake as he laughs. I lift my head to find him looking at me.
Our eyes lock, and a beat of very real heat passes between us.
He holds up his free hand, the first two fingers crossed. “Let’s hope so. You okay?”
“I am. You?”
“I’ll be better when he’s gone for good.”
His fingers flex against my hip. I feel them around my heart. Squeezing. Probing.
I look down. Samuel is still touching me.
And somehow my hand is on his forearm, the heat of his body seeping into my own.
His eyes go hazy, and he turns around to face me.
He’s standing close. Really close.
The fantasy blooms to life inside my head. I imagine him stepping into me, bold and unhurried, using the bulk of his body to plaster mine against the retaining wall. The feel of the stones bite into my back through my silk shirt. He puts one hand on the wall beside my head. The other he curls around my waist, just underneath my bra, and holds me against him, everything from my navel to my knees melting into his groin.
Heaviness gathers between my legs.
I imagine he ducks his head and puts his mouth on my neck. My head falls to the side, my breath coming in hot pants, as that heaviness throbs.
Yes.
My God, yes.
His teeth nick my skin, sharp and slow and arousing as fuck. He soothes the spot with his tongue, then his lips. His scruff is scratchy, but I like the sound it makes against my throat as he moves. He’s not hard, not yet, but I still wonder what it would feel like. The crown of his erection thrust just where I want it, teasing my clit through our clothes.
I blink and the fantasy dissipates.
The arousal between my legs does not.
For the first time, I wonder if I bit off more than I can chew by coming up here.
Maybe this job—this man and this place—are more than I can handle.
“What are you thinking about when that happens?” Samuel asks. His voice is rougher than before.
“When what happens?”
“Your eyes.” He searches them, his own alive with interest. “They’re different. They…I don’t know, darken or some shit. Makes me think—”
Think what?
I have to get out of here. Now.
“Thank you,” I say, ignoring his question. “For the assist.”
He pauses. For a horrible second, I think he’s going to press me to answer. But then he smooths his expression and says, “You were the one with the killer lines and the determination. I just provided the muscle. Between your wine know-how and your smart mouth, I think it’s fair to say you were the one who saved the day.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. “Does that make you the damsel?”
“I guess it does, yeah. Or maybe I was the damsel, but you were both the knight and the one in distress. The knight in distress.” His eyes bore into mine. I get the feeling he hasn’t finished that thought.
I am the damsel, yeah, and I hated every second of it.
I’m the damsel and I love it, give me more please and thank you.
My pulse spikes at the idea of this enormous, powerful man being even the tiniest bit submissive.
Even the tiniest bit into plays on power dynamics. I have yet to find a man not on the internet who is.
“There y’all are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I turn my head and see Chef Katie standing on the pavilion’s top step. She’s squinting, like she can’t quite see us against the glare of the sun.
My stomach drops a hundred stories. I quickly step away from Samuel and tuck nonexistent hairs behind my ears.
My hands are shaking again. I clasp them behind my back, pulse roaring in my ears as I paste on a smile.
“Just needed some air,” I call back.
“I’ve got two plates of paella with your names on ’em,” she replies. “Come on up.”
She puts the flat of one hand against her brow and waves us in with the other.
Please, please tell me she didn’t see me looking up at Samuel with stars in my eyes.
“Be right up,” Samuel says. I feel him looking at me, but suddenly, I can’t look back at him.
I feel like a coward, but I need time. I need to figure out—God, I need to figure out what’s wrong with me.
How I feel about the fact that I feel safe and alive and so turned on when I’m with Samuel.
Is he a beta at heart?
Working with him today has stoked my attraction to new heights. What the hell am I going to do about that? What if this happens every time we’re working together—me wanting him so badly I do something reckless that could jeopardize my career?
“We should go,” I manage, and without looking back, I charge across the patio and up the steps into the pavilion.
All the while, I have a keen awareness of Samuel’s presence two steps behind me. Close enough to let me know he’s there, far enough to let me know he’s allowing me the space I didn’t say I needed, but that he’s giving me anyway.
He knows I need it. And the fact he’s paying such close attention makes me feel tender to the point of pain.
Chapter Fourteen
Samuel
I’m half naked when I open the door.
Hey, it’s Saturday night. I don’t usually have weekend nights off, but because Emma and I worked our fingers to the bone all day, we decided to give ourselves the rare treat of a free weekend evening. I’m celebrating by going commando in my coziest pair of sweats and nothing else.
Signals must cross inside my head, because my body lights up at the sight of Emma standing on my front stoop.
I still haven’t recovered from how…intense that little interaction we had on the smoking patio was. I let my hand linger on her body way longer than I should have under the guise of keeping her close so I could protect her, and she didn’t pull away.
In fact, she touched me right back. The way she put her head on my shoulder and her hand on my arm, like she was struggling just as hard as I was to keep her body in check—