Authors: Brenda Rothert
This closeness allowed me to take in the spice of his cologne and the rigid lines of muscle on his back. My body took over, craving more – practically begging for it with soft moans of satisfaction and the molding of my body into his.
“You feel so good,” he whispered in my ear before pulling my earlobe gently between his teeth. My sharp intake of breath was followed up with a moan that came out as a whine. I tuned out my reservations, letting myself give in to him.
He leaned back and looked at me. His hair was a mess from me running my hand through it and his blue eyes were dark and hungry. For me? A fresh surge of longing for him ran to every nerve ending in my body.
His eyes never left mine as he brought a hand to my breasts, a ragged breath escaping his lips as he brushed his thumb over one nipple. He circled it a few times, making me press my hips up against his. His erection made my body hum with arousal. The hard, enormous bulge that fit against me so perfectly told me that he wanted me, too. I wasn’t worthless or disgusting to him.
Another low groan rumbled from his throat as his thumb stroked across my other nipple.
“I can feel how hard these are through your shirt and bra,” he said. “So fucking hot, Samara.”
As he spoke, he gently squeezed my entire breast and I moaned again, my eyes sliding closed for a second.
“Feels … so good,” I mumbled, knowing I was out of control. His hands just felt too sublime. Whether it was a good idea or not, I didn’t just want this – I needed it.
“You’re absolutely stunning when you’re turned on,” Orion said softly. His hand slowly worked its way under the bottom of my shirt, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my stomach.
The alarm in my head blared, waking me from my coma of arousal.
“No,” I said, squirming beneath him. “No, stop.”
He backed away from me, his eyes wide with confusion.
“I can’t do this,” I said, scrambling off the couch. I ran a hand through my hair and searched for the shoes I’d kicked off when we got down here.
“Shit, I’m sorry Samara,” he said. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” I found my sandals and slipped them on. “I have to go. Right now.”
A flicker of hurt crossed his face. “Don’t go. Can’t we talk about this?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “I need to be alone right now. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
I turned for the stairway, stopping when he spoke.
“Samara. Your car’s still at the pool. I’ll drive you.”
I started for the stairs again. “I can walk.”
“I’m driving you. We don’t have to talk, but it’s getting dark and I want to make sure you get to your car.”
He was off the couch now, his tone flat. Was that disappointment in his voice? Probably. I’d just left him in a state that probably didn’t feel too great right now.
We walked to the car in silence. Thank God, we managed to not run into his mom. I wasn’t up for saying goodbye to her right now. I was on the verge of tears, my chest uncomfortably tight.
I stared out the passenger door window the whole way to the pool, unable to look at Orion. Shame – the emotion I knew better than any other – had flooded me.
He pulled into the parking lot and I saw my dark red sedan.
“I just need to say that whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he said. “Please text me later and let me know you’re okay, Samara.”
“I’m okay,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. As soon as his car was stopped, I opened the passenger door and flew into my own car. I focused on starting it and driving away, not letting myself look at him.
Stupid, stupid girl. I wasn’t like him, and I’d let myself forget that. I wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
Orion
I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, eager to see if Samara had texted me back.
There was a message from one of my coaches checking in to make sure I was working out and another from a cameraman working on the documentary I’d agreed to be part of.
I groaned when I saw the second message. We were meeting up for the first time this morning at my gym. Fucking hell. I didn’t feel like being social right now.
Samara hadn’t written me back, and the disappointment hit me like a punch to the face. I’d been up for hours after she left last night, hoping she’d text back and running over things again and again in my mind.
Had I pushed her too far? Been too aggressive? I’d never misread a woman’s signals before, and knowing I’d made her uncomfortable was eating at me. I’d thought she was every bit as into it as I was. And
Christ
, had I been into it.
With a deep sigh, I got out of bed and headed for the shower.
While I waited for the water to warm up, I leaned against the wall and glanced around the white-tiled room. Dad and I had finished this bathroom together when I was a freshman in high school. He’d wanted me to have a space of my own and said it would be a good chance to teach me about plumbing.
The bathroom at my Chicago apartment was three times the size of this one, finished in marble and granite, but I preferred this one. I wished like hell Dad was still here. I’d always been able to talk to him about things and get sound advice. He’d gone suddenly, suffering a heart attack at work. Sometimes a fresh wave of grief would still hit me.
What would Dad have said about Samara if I’d asked for his advice? Probably that some things are worth waiting for. I’d rushed it, letting my desire to connect with her on a deeper level overrule my better judgment.
But still … I hadn’t tried to sleep with her. Maybe she thought that was where I was heading, though. Samara was different than the other women I’d been with. She wasn’t trying to hook up and then drag me into a relationship after. That was the usual m.o.
When we got close physically, she was always so nervous. Was it me making her that way?
The answer struck so suddenly that my mouth dropped open. Shower water pelted the inside of my mouth in droplets until I closed it again. Why the hell hadn’t I figured it out sooner?
Samara was a virgin. That explained everything. And I probably seemed like a guy who wanted to bang her before I cut town at the end of the summer.
I had to slow things down and let her know I didn’t expect sex. Hopefully that would ease the tension between us.
When I stepped out of the shower and dried off, I felt better about things. Now I just had to get her to talk to me.
Being filmed while working out was an odd feeling. I was conscious of my form on every rep. And I couldn’t help hoping my labored expression while deadlifting didn’t make me look like I was taking a shit.
Dan assured me I’d get used to the camera and eventually forget it was even there. He was a short dude with a black goatee who didn’t say a whole lot.
“That was great,” he said, approaching me as I was taking a water break. “I’m done for today.”
“You sure? I’ve got another hour to go.”
“Nope, I’m just gonna pack up and go. A producer will be with me next time to do some sit-down interview footage. We’ll let you know when. Sometime next week.”
I nodded and shook his outstretched hand. “See you then, man.”
Samara was on my mind as I went through the motions of the rest of my workout. I couldn’t stop seeing her expression as she looked at me, her hazel eyes glazed with lust. The way she’d moaned and responded to the slightest touch made me wonder if anyone had ever touched her that way before.
Surely a woman so beautiful had at least gotten close to sex. But I wasn’t so sure. She’d jumped and given me a terrified look when I touched the bare skin of her stomach.
I dropped the bar, done with my workout. Sweat rolled down my face in streams, and I pulled up my t-shirt to mop it dry.
After a quick shower in the gym’s locker room, I headed for the Dugout to get lunch and watch baseball. I sat alone at the bar, waiting for my food, when I felt someone walk up beside me and pause.
When I turned and saw Amy’s platinum blonde hair and dark pink lips, I didn’t even try to suppress my glare of annoyance.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hi.” I spoke curtly and turned away, hoping she’d take the hint.
“Can we talk?”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Orion … we never resolved things. Look, I know—”
“Breaking up was the resolution,” I said, hoping she heard the annoyance in my tone.
She scoffed and inched closer to me. “Don’t you remember how upset you were when we broke up?” she said. “It’s because we were in love. You couldn’t imagine your life without me.”
I glared at her. “It was because you were fucking Brett behind my back.”
“But that was just a symptom of what was going on in our relationship. It wasn’t really about him. It’s too hard for me to be away from you all the time. I think if we tried again and I moved in with you, everything would be different. It would be so much better.”
My lips parted with shock. “That’s not happening, Amy.”
“I know I screwed up, okay? I know. How long are you going to stay pissed at me? It’s been almost six months. This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, it is ridiculous,” I agreed. “I’m home to see my family, not you. Just let it go, alright? Things are over with us. They’ve been over for a while.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at me. Waiting. She thought if she looked pathetic enough, I’d try to console her. Instead, I turned toward the baseball game on TV.
“But …” Her voice broke and I sighed, realizing this had turned into a scene. “Can’t we at least be friends? I miss that. I miss hanging out with you.”
I gave her a stern look. “No. I’m busy with other things, and we’ve already gone separate ways anyway. It needs to stay that way.”
She blinked and tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I just missed you. I never thought you’d find out. And now … my dreams are dead. I thought we’d be together forever, but I’m gonna end up living in Henley forever now.”
I shook my head and took a deep breath, my temper flaring. “I don’t know how many ways I can say it, Amy. We’re over. I’m trying to have lunch and watch the game here.”
“What happened to you?” she said, her voice rising. “You used to be the nicest person I knew, but you’ve turned cold or something.”
People were glancing at us, trying to figure out what was going on. I got up and pulled out my wallet, setting some money on the bar. Without another word, I turned and left, but Amy kept going, speaking to my retreating back.
“I’m not giving up on us, Orion. I still love you.”
I let the words roll off. There’d been a time when Amy could get to me, but it was long past. She’d fucked her way out of my good graces, and she was never getting back in.
Samara
The Henley Ice Arena was a little run down. The parking lot was full of holes and the large white building was in need a fresh coat of paint. But it was a mainstay in the community, and no one really noticed its shortfalls.
Orion approached the bench I was sitting on outside the entrance to the arena and my breath caught. Those beautiful blue eyes, looking only at me, got me every single time.
When he’d texted and asked me to meet him here earlier, I’d almost said no. I was still mortified about the other night. But I liked being with him so much that I hadn’t been able to bring myself to refuse.
He wore gray sweats and a t-shirt with his team logo, the sleeves of a lightweight long-sleeve shirt covering his forearms. A black canvas bag was slung over his shoulder.
I stood, taking a deep breath to calm my pounding heart.
“Hey,” he said softly, cupping my cheek in his hand. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too. I’m sorry about the other night.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you texted me back. I was worried about you.”
He was sweet for dismissing my crazy behavior so easily. Hell, I didn’t even understand it. The other night I’d wanted him with every ounce of my being one second and been too terrified to even breathe the next. He had to be all kinds of confused.
“I did tell you I’ve never ice skated, right?” I said. “I’m gonna be a buzzkill for you.”
He smiled and took his hand from my face, grabbing my fingertips to lead me to a side door to the arena.
“Never,” he said. “There’s no shame in never having done something. In fact, I find it rather appealing.”
It was appealing that I didn’t know how to ice skate? He was probably just trying to make me feel better about it.
He used a key from his key chain to unlock the side door, which he held open for me to step inside.
“I started my days at five AM here in high school,” he said. “And they let me keep the key.”
“Are we supposed to be here?”
“Yeah, I talked to Gus, the maintenance guy. He said he might be around cleaning, but the place is empty besides that.”
“Good, so no one will see me fall,” I said lightly.
“I’m not gonna let you fall, Samara.”
His words wrapped around me like a warm embrace. He was the kind of man who held others up; fiercely loyal and devoted. It was one of my favorite things about him.
He walked through a door and I followed him into a room where the smells of feet and leather were strong.
“What size shoe do you wear?” he asked.
I scanned the rows of ice skates. “Eight.”
He went into another row and pulled a pair from the shelf.
“How’d you know exactly where they were?” I asked, impressed.
“I worked here in high school. I spent a good eight hours a day here most days.” He arched his brows and grinned. “And lucky for me, they haven’t moved anything around since then.”
He led me to a bench and I set to work getting the skates on while he went to a booth to put on some music. I laced up the skates slowly, apprehensive about all my weight being balanced on two narrow blades.
The music started and Orion returned to the bench. He sat down beside me and took off his shoes, putting on long socks and a pair of black ice skates.
“The Black Keys?” I asked, referring to the music.
“Yes, ma’am. This is my long workout playlist.”