Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love) (13 page)

Damn, that is a handsome man
, she thought to herself. She let her eyes roam slowly over the back of him, appraising him fully the way she’d wanted to all day. She took in his broad shoulders and wavy dark hair, his tall, lean build… she thought about how they’d likely end their date and felt her blood surge through her body. A jolt shot
to her girly parts, making them tingle as her stomach dropped anxiously.

She exhaled a shallow breath. She needed that drink to calm her
suddenly jangling nerves. Sam turned his head to peek at her over his shoulder and shot her a lazy, sexy smile, that smile that
physically affected her.
Maybe several drinks,
she amended
.

Sam returned, examining her expression as he handed her the drink. “What’s going on?” He sat beside her on the loveseat, angling himself towards her.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The look on your face… you’re like the cat who swallowed the canary.”

She laughed, grateful for the dim lighting so he wouldn’t see her blush. “Oh, I was just thinking.”

“May I ask about what?”

She shrugged, raised her glass to her lips. “You.” She sipped her drink, and let her eyes flirtatiously lock on his.

His lips parted in surprise. The air seemed to crackle around them. All he could do was stare back at her as a slow grin spread
across his
face. He took a long swallow of his beer. Balancing the dark bottle carefully on his knee, he leaned in and said, “You are one of the
sexiest women I have ever met. Can I just tell you that?”

“Thank you,” she said. “Let’s just hope you still think that a few hours from now.”

Sam stilled for a few seconds, unsure of what she was saying.

“Lydia,” he said, “I’m pretty sure that any actions you take in the next few hours will only reinforce my opinion, not diminish it.” He watched her take a generous gulp of her drink, then another. She usually nursed her drinks slowly. Realization washed over him, and a slight grin lifted his mouth. “Wait a second. You’re not nervous about being with me tonight, are you?”

She laughed out loud, a full and throaty sound. “Hell yes, I’m nervous!”

He loved her laugh. The grin stayed, but his brows furrowed in confusion. “Seriously? I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but it’s not like we haven’t… been together before.”

“Sam,” she said quietly. She looked at him directly, but her voice
was hushed. “We definitely had some fun. Lustful, fabulous, semi-naked fun. But we didn’t… come on, you know. Last time, I drew a
line. This time, I’m not drawing any lines, and we both know it. And
that’s fine, I
want
that. I’m on board, believe me. It’s just…” She
gnawed on her bottom lip for a few seconds. His gaze burned into her. Then she simply blurted out, “I haven’t had sex in over a year, okay? And I haven’t slept with anyone other than Matt in over
eleven
years. So it’s a little… daunting. To say the least.” She took another hard gulp of her drink. The glass was already more than half empty.

Sam thought back to the first time he’d slept with a new woman after Chelsea’s death. His wife had been gone for two years. Back in
Chicago, he’d met someone at a bar and gone home with her, half drunk, really just wanting to get the experience over with. It had
been
quick. As soon as they were done, he’d excused himself to go into
her bathroom, ostensibly to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. He’d done all that, then turned the water on full force to help mute any sound, and vomited violently—not from his drinking, but from guilt, sadness, and self-loathing.

While Lydia’s situation wasn’t quite the same, he remembered well the lump in his throat, the uncomfortable strangeness, the
wrenching feeling of displacement, the overwhelming vulnerability. Having sex with a different person for the first time after only being with one person for so long…

Sam set down his beer on the floor so he could reach for her free hand with both of his and grasped it tightly. Again, her soft hand was wintry. Something occurred to him, and he began to connect the
dots: whenever Lydia was upset or uneasy, her hands got cold, a
bona fide physical reaction to her distress. He rubbed her hand between
his to warm it. He reached up to smooth a stray lock of her hair
behind her ear, looked into her eyes, and said softly, “It’s okay, Lydia. I understand. I really do.”

She pressed her lips together, obviously embarrassed by her admission. But it was also obvious his words reached her. She gave a
small, slow nod. “Yeah. Well. You probably do, now that I think
about it.” She took another sip of her drink. “Hey, what if all my parts don’t even work anymore from lack of use?”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. “I bet I can get them working
again.” He leaned in and kissed her, slow and sultry. She responded instantly, and he felt his whole body surge with fire and adrenaline.
His fingers softly gripped the back of her neck, holding her to him. “God, do I want you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve barely been able to think about much else since you drove away from me in Connecticut.”

“Oh sure,” she said, her voice deep and mocking. She smiled
and joked, “Get me all flustered, put performance pressure on me. Nice. Thanks. I’ll choke at bat, you’re jinxing me. You’re dooming yourself to disappointment.”

“Impossible.” He smiled back. He kissed her deeply, tasting the
liquor on her tongue, lingering on her soft lips before pulling away.
“Alright, then. Be a good girl and finish your drink,” he teased, “so I
can take you back to my room and spend the rest of the night happily proving you wrong.” He smoothly reached down and retrieved his beer bottle from the floor to take a long swallow.

She knocked back the rest of her drink in three big gulps.
“Wooo. Okay. That oughta do it. Hhmph!”

“Feeling good now?” he asked, amused as he watched her shudder.

“Peachy keen, jellybean.” She nodded firmly. “Straddling that perfect line between very buzzed and drunk. I’m golden.”

He laughed. “Tell me something. Are you gonna be okay? I
mean, you just finished that drink pretty quickly. You usually nurse your drinks, right, at least from what I've seen?”

“I did knock this one back fast, you're right. Let's hope I don't
puke. Because no, I'm not a big drinker. Not by a long shot. I’m a casual drinker at best.” She chuckled as she added, “I like a glass of
wine here and there, but I probably consumed more alcohol the weekend of
Ryan and Melanie’s wedding than I’d had in the preceding two
years put together. What a drinkfest that turned out to be, huh?”

Sam nodded, laughing softly. “It really was, now that you
mention
it.” He took two more swallows of his beer and stood up. He
extended his hand to her, his eyes intense on her face, and said in a seductive tone, “Can we please get out of here?”

Lydia placed her hand in his and rose from the loveseat with
caution. Her head was spinning slightly, and she knew it was as
much from desire as the vodka. She took a deep breath and smiled up at him in answer.

When they emerged from the small, dim bar into the night, the cool air felt wonderful against her face. Her flushed cheeks felt hot,
both from the alcohol and her heightened emotions. The brisk autumn air was invigorating and refreshing. She closed her eyes, tipped her face up to the wind, and took deep, cleansing breaths as Sam held her close to his side. He lifted his free hand in the air to hail a cab.

Headed back to the hotel, in the dark warmth of the back of the taxi, Lydia snuggled close to Sam and said, “I have to tell you something.”

He grinned. “It’s been a night of confessions. Go for it.”

She grasped his strong jaw, ran her fingertips across the planes
of his face, and kissed him before she said, “I very much want to sleep with you. Please don’t think I had to get drunk to do that. I
want you. I
don't need liquid confidence. That’s not it at all…” She took a deep breath. “I drank so I could force myself to
relax
. I'm freaking
nervous.
Relaxing takes actual effort on my part—tonight, an almost
Herculean
one. And as much as I’ve enjoyed spending the day with you, I am who I am, and I’m just not that good at letting myself go. I never
have been. That's got nothing to do with you, it's all me. I just wanted you to
know that. To understand.” She huffed out an exasperated sigh.
“Am I making any sense?”

Sam stared down into her eyes. He caressed her cheek slowly,
with great tenderness, and said in a sultry whisper, “Do you know what
I’d give to see you really let yourself go?” His fingertips trailed
down along her neck, sending a shiver through her. “That would probably be absolutely amazing.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Then she whispered back,
“Well, when we get back to your room, you just might see it. Because God knows I want to let go with you.”

A sensational smile lit his face before he kissed her passionately.

HAND IN HAND,
Sam and Lydia walked through the lobby of his hotel in content silence. They went to the concierge to retrieve her overnight bag, then headed for the elevators to get to Sam’s room on the 43
rd
floor. There were three other people in the elevator; Sam and Lydia exchanged secretive smiles and he winked as he kissed the back of her hand.

Sam opened the door to his room and moved aside to let Lydia enter first. He flicked on the lights behind her as she walked slowly into the suite. Watching her as she looked the room over, he moved forward to take her coat and then remove his own.

“This is really nice,” she said as she admired the sophisticated, luxurious décor. It was a suite with a first-class front room, with cherrywood furniture, plush beige carpeting, and heavy ornate
drapes
over the windows. A dark brown leather sofa, matching loveseat, and a 27-inch flatscreen TV mounted on the wall added to the
opulence. Sam’s laptop sat on a large desk, with some folders and a soft black leather briefcase beside it. Beyond that, she noted the doorway that led to the connecting bedroom and bathroom. Lydia couldn’t help but take a quick glimpse, and saw a beautifully made king sized bed.

“There’s a great view of the city,” Sam said. “Come here.” He
took her by the hand and led her to the large window, using his free hand
to use the pull rod that opened the heavy drapes. Outside was a
spectacular panorama of the Manhattan skyline from forty-three
floors up. The lights of the city glittered and twinkled across the darkness, the expanse of it dazzling.

“
Wow
,” she smiled. “You weren’t kidding. It’s magnificent.”

He stood behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and held
her close, easing her back to rest against his chest. She could feel his breath caress the top of her hair, and gently placed her hands over his. He intertwined her fingers between his and gave them a slight
squeeze. They stood that way for a long minute, staring at the view outside and savoring the moment. Utterly affected by his closeness, the air in the room seemed to still as the moments passed. She wondered if he felt as she did, fiercely overcome with anticipation and longing. She could hear the blood rushing through her body, roaring in her ears.

“How are you doing?” he finally murmured. “All’s well?”

“Exceptionally well,” she murmured back, smiling.

“Good. You’re feeling a little more relaxed than earlier?”

“I’m still a little drunk, but yes, I'm relaxed. I'm fine,” she said, turning her head slightly so he could see her profile, see her smile so he’d know that she meant it. "Honestly."

“Good.” He leaned down until his lips were brushing her ear. At the contact, she shivered, and he said in a deep, velvety tone, “Lydia, whatever you want to do, whatever you don’t want to do, it’s your call. I want you to be at ease with me, to stay relaxed, to feel secure. Okay? It’s all up to you.”

Feeling like she could barely breathe, she simply nodded and squeezed his fingers with her own.

He brushed her hair aside with gentle fingers, exposing the curve of her neck. Very lightly, very slowly, he kissed her temple,
then her
cheek, then her jawline, then bent his head farther to nip at her ear
before kissing the nape of her neck. She shuddered, feeling her blood heat like liquid silver. He lingered there, brushing his lips along her skin, tasting her, then lightly scraped his teeth up her neck to her ear and nipped at the lobe again.

Her breath caught, her stomach flipped, and her blood rushed
through her body, reminding her that she was very much alive. Her eyes closed as she tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder, relishing the feel of his hot mouth on her skin.
Go with it
, she told herself.
You’ve been waiting for this. Let yourself enjoy it.

Turning her head, she said in a hushed, sultry tone, “Remember
what you said earlier… about showing me all the ways you’d
thought of to top off our night?”

Sam’s eyes slipped closed for a moment and he swallowed hard,
giving her a hint of how much he wanted her. “You bet,” he
murmured. He touched his lips to her skin again.

“Well… go ahead,” she whispered invitingly. “Show me.”

He unlocked the grasp he had around her waist and took a step back. His hands glided seductively along the soft silk of her blouse
as he turned her to face him. Looking into her eyes, he smiled softly
before reaching up to cup her face with his hands. He lowered his head, nipped at her bottom lip with gentle playfulness, then covered her mouth with his.