The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,70

they couldn’t hold down their alcohol.”

I left them bickering and followed Sam back to the room we were staying in. It was a giant room with a canopied bed at the center and a beautiful bay window with a reading cushion. It was probably my favorite room in the house.

I flopped back onto the bed and giggled. “I feel so good.”

“Did the magazine thing go this poorly?” he asked, stripping out of the polo he’d worn to the golf course.

“Nope. It went great. English thinks it’s going to go viral. And Court miraculously behaved the entire time. He didn’t even fight English. I don’t know what got into him.”

“Huh. I guess that would be me. I talked to him about it last night.”

“Really?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. “You got Court Kensington to behave? Do you want to be his publicist?”

He laughed. “Negative. Just his friend.”

“You look good shirtless.”

“Thanks,” he said with a half-smile. “How burnt are you going to be?”

I stared down at my body and shrugged. “Mostly my legs, I think.”

“Let’s get you in a shower and then lather you in aloe before this party.”

I slid off of the bed and put my arms around him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Always.”

I pressed my lips to his, and he deepened it. Then he slipped an arm under my legs and lifted me into his arms. I squeaked in surprise as he carried me into the giant walk-in shower attached to this room. He set me down onto my feet once we were inside and flipped the water on as hot as it would go.

He shucked his khakis and boxers onto the ground outside of the shower and then moved toward me. I bit my lip and stepped back until he pressed me into the stone wall.

His lips covered mine again, fiercely, possessively. His hand slipped behind my back and yanked on the strings of my favorite black bikini. The material hit the ground, leaving me in just my ruched cheeky bottoms. But he wasn’t satisfied with that. His thumbs hooked into the hem and slid them over my ass and onto the floor.

I had no words. I loved this unbridled, forceful Sam. The one who saw me in a bikini and carried me into the shower to get to me. I wanted this Sam so fucking bad. And his erection pressing into my stomach said how much he wanted me too.

He lifted one of my legs, hiking it up around his waist. I gasped as he pressed his dick against the space between my thighs. My eyes squeezed shut as warmth rolled through me. I dug my nails into his back, wanting more, needing more.

He obliged by grinding against me in the most delicious and dangerous way imaginable. I scrambled to get more. To feel him take what was his. But he hesitated. I could see the strain it took for him to stop.

“Condom?” he rasped.

“Fuck,” I said. “I’m on the pill.”

He met my gaze, seeing my confirmation that I wanted this anyway. “Okay. Fuck.”

Then without another word, he lifted my leg up and slammed me back against the stone shower wall. I groaned as he aligned our bodies and then thrust up into me. My back bowed off the wall as he filled me completely.

The steam rose up all around us, obscuring everything but Sam in front of me. Making us slippery and wet and sweaty. Heightened everything to the point of desperation. His muscles bulged as he held me against the wall and drove up into me hard and fast . Took me with everything he had.

And it was mere minutes before we were both crying out into the steam of the shower as we hit a wave and raced down it together.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sam released his grip and set me down on my shaky legs. They immediately collapsed underneath me, and I fell into a heap on the shower floor.

“Wow,” I murmured.

“Yeah, fuck,” he said. “That was…”

“Amazing.”

“Do you need help standing?”

I laughed and nodded. He reached down and helped me up, gently walking me back into the stream and kissing my mouth.

“I missed you, by the way.”

“Oh, was that what this was?” I asked with a smile.

“Yes.”

“Miss me all the time then.”

“If you’d like.”

Then he kissed me under the stream of water, and I lost cognizant thought all over again.

English shot us conspiratorial looks when we reemerged in time for the start of the party. Apparently, we had not thought