Blissful Surrender (14 page)

Sean

I’ve found myself at the Chicago Police Memorial Foundation’s annual fundraising dinner, representing my firm as a last minute favor for my boss. I haven’t brought a date. With more notice, I would have considered asking Samantha, but I know I need to tread lightly with her. Last week’s date showed me that I need to be smart in the way I approach her if I want her back in my life … and my bed.

I’ve had a lot of time to reflect this week on what is missing from my life. Apart from Mac, I haven’t wanted a woman for more than a night or two since Sammy, and seeing her again has made me realize that she is the reason why. But in order for me to be sure that she wants to be with me too, she will need to be the one to come to me. I can’t force her; I can’t make her want to be with me again, but for my peace of mind and for the sake of saving both of us a repeat of the past, she needs to be sure.

That’s not to say I can’t help her make her mind up though.

My life seems to be un-complicating itself. Well, mainly the part of my life that involves Ryan. He moved back to his apartment earlier this week and has promised to contact both the therapist and Gamblers Anonymous. This time I’m hoping he’s been scared into getting help. There is still the matter of his debt to the bookie who roughed him up in the club, but that is one debt I refuse to settle. But if any trouble is made for myself or my club, I promise there will be hell to pay.

I’m sitting at a table with a bunch of old law school buddies of mine when I see her. There may be a lot of beautiful women here, but none of them compare to the sunshine-haired beauty as she walks into the room on the arm of a man who looks like he wants to eat her. I struggle to stifle the growl that rumbles in my chest. My lips tighten, my fists instinctively tightening on the table in front of me. She’d told me about Tanner, her casual, not serious fuck buddy, and all indications are that her escort is one and the same. My first instinct is to rip his hands off her; the very thought of any man that isn’t me touching her vexes me. I watch with a cold glare as they approach a table with two vacant chairs, smiling at another tall, blond man and his attractive partner who I note has the most striking red hair I have ever seen. He stands and gives Samantha a hug before shaking hands with Tanner and inviting them to sit down. Once Samantha takes her seat—which I’ll add, Tanner did NOT pull out for her as a gentleman should—he sits down and drapes his arm possessively along the back of her chair. I subconsciously grind my teeth in frustration. If there was ever a moment to see green, this was it.

In short, I’m jealous as fuck.

What I ought to do is walk up to her right now and sweep her off her feet, taking her from the room and back to my bed, where she belongs. But I distract myself with the conversation at the table, sneaking glances in her direction every now and then.

Until the moment that the key note speaker steps up onto the stage and talks about all the big donors for the night, one of which is my firm. I look over to her table and lock eyes with her. The look on her face goes from wide-eyed shock to confusion, to something resembling embarrassment as her cheeks go pink and she sits up straight, noticeably shifting away from her date. I smirk and her eyes narrow as she realizes that I’ve obviously been watching her for a while. I nod a silent hello before shifting my attention back to the speaker, not looking back at her for the duration of the speech.

It’s not until after the dinner, when the band starts playing and couples start congregating on the dance floor, that I decide it’s time to make my next move. Waiting until Tanner is engaged in what looks like deep conversation with the man next to him, I stand and move toward Samantha’s table.

“Samantha, what a surprise to see you again.” I purposefully pause to take in how breathtaking she looks in close quarters. She’s wearing a demurely sexy, black V-neck dress. Standing above her I get a glimpse of a black lace bra that has my dick twitching in anticipation of seeing more, but I try to calm my thoughts and clear my head, focusing on the end game—getting my girl back.

“Y-Yes. Hi, Sean. Fancy seeing
you
here …” she says, leaving her comment open ended in anticipation of an answer.

“Yes, a funny coincidence, wouldn’t you say? Fortunately, my boss called in a favor late this afternoon and I’m attending the dinner in his place.”

“I see.” She fidgets in her seat and curls her hair back behind her ear repeatedly. Her apparent nervousness is very becoming.

“Babe, who’s this?” The dickhead to her left asks, unapologetic as he turns toward me, obviously sizing me up. His words are clipped, his tone aggressive at best.

“Tanner, this is Sean Miller. He’s an old
friend
of mine,” Sam says, emphasizing the word friend. Her eyes sparkle with amusement as I hold my hand out to Tanner who just looks at it before slowly shaking. A firm but inconspicuous squeeze gives his true thoughts away, making the smile on my face morph into a knowing grin. 

“Great to meet you, Tanner. I wasn’t aware Samantha was seeing anyone—”

“I’m not!” she interjects harshly, not realizing how much she has just given away. She looks at him quickly with guilt written all over her face before turning back toward me. “I mean, Tanner and I are just friends and colleagues.”

My grin gets bigger at her unintentional admission. “Great, then you won’t mind me stealing Samantha away for a dance. We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we,
friend
?”

Her lips twitch as she tries to hold back a smile, recognizing a pissing contest when she sees one. “Yes, we do. You don’t mind, do you, Tanner?”

“Nope, go ahead,” he grumbles as he picks up his glass and knocks it back quickly. “I’m going to get another drink.”

“Fantastic,” I boast before holding out my hand to my dance partner, and wrapping my fingers around hers as she places it in mine. She pushes her chair out before standing radiantly in front of me.

“After you …” I offer, gesturing for her to lead the way. I’m not used to doing the following and I know she realizes that this is not the norm. To her credit, she doesn’t hesitate as she walks toward the dance floor, pulling me behind her.

She stops in the middle of the crowd of swaying couples, turning to look at me. I swear if that woman cocks her hip and glares at me expectantly, I won’t be able to stop myself from doing something highly inappropriate for a police charity dinner. Instead, she bites her lip and steps into my arms as I hold them out in front of me. Pulling her in close against me, I gently place my right hand on her left hip. Lacing her other hand’s fingers with mine, I hold our hands up as I start to sway side to side in time to
I Hate The Way I Love You
by Rihanna and Ne-Yo.

She leans into me, her body relaxing into mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for us to be dancing together. Taking her lead, I glide my hand up her back until it rests across her shoulders. A contented sigh escapes her lips and I will my body to control itself as I feel an all too familiar tightness in my groin. Something about this woman obliterates all semblance of the control I pride myself on. It should worry me, but then again it was always like this with Sammy. Everything felt right, natural, like we belonged.

“What are we doing, Sean?” she whispers quietly. She looks up at me and her big jade eyes hit me like a sucker punch. “Because I’m not sure I can resist for much longer …” she murmurs, her voice tapering off as if she’s unsure of what she’s saying.

“Why resist?” I murmur as I rest my cheek against her hair.

“You know why. We don’t work.”

“Hmm …” I say, continuing to move against her, not stopping as the song ends and the lead singer starts playing Coldplay’s
I Ran Away
.

She drops her head to my shoulder, and the contentment I feel from holding her in my arms consumes me. Her arm strokes my back, making my muscles flex at the sensation. I can feel the heat from her touch through my suit jacket, and I can’t focus on anything other than the beautiful woman in my arms. This is so damn right. I don’t know how she can keep me at arm’s length but she’s worth the wait. Everything in me wants to whisk her away, show her how good we were, how good we can be.

After a few minutes, the song comes to an end and the MC announces that the band will be taking a short break. As if waking from a trance, I move my arms away from her and gently push her away from my body.

“Sean, what’s wrong?”

Her eyes dart around the room, looking over my shoulder toward her table where I know her dickhead date will be watching her like a hawk. Friends with benefits my ass! One look at him with her and I knew he wanted more than just benefits; he wants the whole damn package. Pity I can’t let that happen. Ever. “Thank you for the dance, Samantha. I got carried away there for a minute and forgot myself.”

She looks up at me, her eyebrows furrow in confusion at my sudden change. “Did I … Did I do something wrong?” she stutters.

“No, it was all me. I must be going, I’ve got to go check in at the club.” I grab her hand and lift it to my mouth, gently kissing the back of it before letting it go. “Nice seeing you again, Sammy.”

I muster all the restraint I have and turn around, walking away from the one woman I never want to leave, the one who needs to make a decision about what and who she truly wants. And soon.

Sam

I stand in the middle of the dance floor watching Sean’s back as he walks away from me, again. I feel embarrassed, turned on and frustrated as hell, and I have to lock my knees to stay upright.

Being in Sean’s arms again felt better than I remembered. It was like the world around us disappeared and we were the only two people left. I can still feel where Sean’s hands touched my hip, up my back, across my shoulders, my cheek where I laid my head on his shoulder, my chest where it was pressed snugly against his …

I stumble to the bar and order a vodka tonic—more vodka, less tonic—then down it in one gulp before ordering another one, seeking anything that will clear my head.

When I reach my table again, Tanner and Zander are deep in conversation.

“Sam!” Kate calls as I sit down in my seat. “We were just saying how we should head out to a club. It’s only nine o’clock, way too early to be calling it a night. You up for it?”

Tanner looks over at me and raises a brow, anticipating my normal polite decline. Bolstered by the alcohol coursing through me, I suddenly feel full of energy and ready to dance.

Fuck it! Sean walked away and left me all worked up and confused as hell. Who says we can’t go to his fucking club and give him a taste of his own medicine? How dare he approach me in front of my colleagues and friends and get all possessive in front of Tanner, not trying to hide how jealous he obviously was, then dance with me. AND he didn’t just dance like an old pair of friends; he danced with me like he was my man, my lover … branding me and igniting my body with his touch.

How fucking dare he!

“That’s an awesome idea!” I exclaim, standing up and grabbing Tanner’s hand, wobbling slightly on my heels before he cups my shoulders to steady me.

“You okay, babe?” he asks, sounding concerned.

“Sure. Let’s do this. I know just the club.”

I lead Tanner outside the club, Kate and Zander bringing up the rear. I start walking down the street, hand in hand with Tanner as I try hard to ignore the fact that I feel nothing toward him. No spark, no warmth spreading through my body, no fluttering in my belly like when Sean is near. I know I’m probably leading him on, but right now I have one thing on my mind and that is showing Sean exactly what he’s missing, exactly what he walked away from.

“Where are we headed, Sam?” Zander asks, coming up beside me.

I don’t hesitate. I don’t even look up at him as I answer. I just keep striding toward my destination. The desire to see Sean again is all the motivation I need to walk three blocks in four inch pumps as I decree, “We’re going to Throb. We’re going to get drunk and have some fun.”

Drunk woman on a mission.

Get the fuck out of my way.

Sam

I scan the club hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that I can’t stop thinking about.

I’ve been secretly hoping that Sean is watching me on the dance floor and will sweep me out of Tanner’s arms into his. Wishful thinking obviously. I can’t sort my head out. I know I want him, but I keep waiting for him to make his move and he just hasn’t tried to seal the deal yet. He gets so far then pulls back, leaving me hot and bothered and aching for more.

One could almost think he wants me to go to him!

As soon as we walk in the doors of the club, I make a beeline for the bar and order a round of shots. Tanner then follows suit, ordering another round, and before too long my overactive mind has blurred edges and I’m feeling relaxed and carefree. But even in my tipsy state, I can’t get Sean out of my head.

He was so overtly possessive earlier in front of Tanner. And when he held me in his arms as we danced, the energy between us was electric. I mean, if there was ever another power crisis, just put Sean and me in a small room together and watch the kilowatts go through the roof!