Chapter Four
Although she would’ve loved to spend all day and night in bed with Riley, Sam had made plans for a tequila night with the girls and she didn’t have the heart to cancel, especially seeing as she desperately needed someone to talk to. She’d gone to high school with Jane and Callie, and though their lives had taken them in different directions, the three had kept in close touch.
They made an odd trio—Callie the kindergarten teacher, Jane the pediatrician and Sam the—former—bar owner. Callie and Jane had both married their high school sweethearts, while Sam was still single, but no matter how different their lives and professions, they were as close as they’d been back in the ninth grade, when they’d gossiped in the cafeteria and done their homework together.
The first thing she did after they’d sat down and taken a few shots was tell her friends about Riley.
Dr. Jane Pierce got the biggest kick out of the news. “Oh God,” she exclaimed as she poured some more tequila into their shot glasses. “Remember when I used to drag you to White Sox games to ogle all the players?”
“No, what I remember is the time you convinced the janitor to let you into the locker room, where you ended up walking in on the coach all lathered up,” Sam shot back.
Jane burst out laughing. “He almost had me arrested.”
“He should’ve.”
“I’m surprised Brad still married you after that sexual harassment phase of yours.”
Callie Howard heaved a big sigh. “I’m jealous, Sam. Sounds like you had some pretty crazy sex.”
“Doesn’t your husband give you crazy sex anymore?” Jane asked, handing one of the shot glasses to Callie.
“I wish. Dan is too busy working.” She grinned. “So I bought myself a vibrator for my birthday.”
The three of them lifted their glasses. Sam grimaced as the fiery liquid slid down her throat. She quickly shoved half a lemon in her mouth and sucked on it.
“Did you suck Riley Scott like that?” Jane teased, and then laughed again.
“You have a dirty mind,” she grumbled.
Callie tossed aside her lemon and shot her a questioning glance. “So, be honest. How big is his…you know?”
“Oh, his butt? It’s an appropriate size,” she said glibly.
“Very funny. You know exactly what I mean.”
She wagged her finger. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
As the alcohol slithered through her blood, her brain began to buzz. Her skin felt flushed, a sign that the three shots she’d just slugged back, on an empty stomach no less, were beginning to do their thing. No more tequila for her, she decided when the room started to spin a little. Riley had promised to show up tonight, claiming he
really
needed to talk to her. She wasn’t sure if that was code for
“I want to fuck you again,”
but either way she didn’t want to be piss-drunk when he arrived.
Besides, she got the feeling that he
did
have something on his mind. It was the same sense she’d gotten last night when she’d practically seduced him, only now it made her wary. In the two years she’d known him, she’d never seen Riley Scott act anything remotely close to serious, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear whatever confession he had to make. She suspected it had something to do with his playboy status, but she really wasn’t too worried about it. She’d known precisely what she was getting into when she’d hopped into the sack with him, and hearing about the parade of women he’d been with before her appealed about as much as shaving her head.
Right now, she was more concerned with the unfamiliar emotions swirling around in her belly, which had nothing to do with the tequila and everything to do with Riley. For two years she’d tried to view him as nothing more than a friend, but now that they’d been intimate, she couldn’t seem to revert to that prior mindset. The sex was so damn incredible. How could she possibly think of him platonically anymore?
Not that she knew
what
she thought of him. Something inside her chest squeezed every time she remembered how it felt to be in his arms or how warm his lips were whenever they touched hers. She wished she could figure out what that
something
was, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know right now. Whatever she was feeling for Riley…well, it scared her. Just a little.
Fine, a lot.
“I’m going to miss you,” Jane burst out, reaching across the booth and squeezing Sam’s hand. “Who’ll join Callie and me for tequila night when you’re gone?”
She pushed her glass away. “The new owner maybe?”
“Do you know who it is?” Callie asked curiously.
“I’m meeting with my financial advisor tomorrow to sign some papers. I’ll find out who the buyer is then.”
“I can’t believe you’re losing this place,” Callie said with a sigh, gesturing around the cramped bar.
A pang of regret tugged at her gut as she swept her gaze over the cluttered tables and little booths. The chrome counter her bartender Greg stood behind. The pool table and dart boards in the corner. The Diamond had been her entire life since her parents had died, and the thought of no longer owing it brought a wave of bitterness. She’d invested every dime she had into this bar and now all those dimes were gone. She feared she might have to file for bankruptcy sometime in the near future, but she was trying not to think about that. She’d be moving in with her sister Alice the day after tomorrow, and she desperately hoped she’d be able to climb out of her financial hole.
“Sammy?”
She lifted her head and found her friends eyeing her with concern. Waving a hand, she said, “Of course I’ll miss it. But maybe it’s time for me to start a new chapter in my life.”
“What about Riley Scott?” Callie teased.
“What about him?”
“How does he fit into your new life?”
She hesitated then said, “He doesn’t.”
Jane hooted. “Spoken like a true slut.”
Sam released a pent-up breath, wondering why the thought of Riley not being in her life bothered her this much. “I’m not the slut.
He
is.”
“Ahem.”
The three women turned their heads just as Riley approached in a pair of blue jeans and an ab-hugging red shirt.
Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. God, he looked gorgeous. Those smoky blue eyes, messy brown hair, sleek muscled body. He was the epitome of eye candy.
“Did you just call me a slut?” he asked, flashing them a charming smile.
Jane smiled back, but Callie just stared at his crotch. Sam knew she was studying it thoroughly and trying to determine the size of his package.
Sam, of course, had experienced all eight inches of him, and her clit swelled just thinking about it.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” she returned. “You might not like what you hear.”
“I always like what I hear.” He winked. “Especially when it comes from you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t need to sweet-talk me. I already slept with you.”
He chuckled, and then frowned when he noticed the dozen shot glasses littering the tabletop. “You’re drunk,” he stated.
“Yessiree, I am.”
“So are we,” Jane said, pointing to herself and Callie with a big grin.
Riley sighed. “Women and tequila never mix.”
“What exactly are you doing here?” Sam asked. She lifted her hair off her neck and fanned herself with one hand. Was it just her, or was it seriously hot in here? Had to be the alcohol. Or the man. Probably the man.
“I came to talk to you about something.” He looked uncomfortable, most likely because Callie continued to ogle his groin.
“As you can see, I’m busy.”
“No, she’s not.” Jane shot to her feet, pulling Callie up with her.
“What about girls’ night?” Sam asked.
“It’s two in the morning. I’m thinking we call it a successful night and go to bed.” At the word
bed
, Jane raised a brow at Riley.
“And maybe my husband will actually have sex with me tonight,” Callie added before Jane dragged her away.
Giggling, her friends left the bar. After the door closed behind them, one of the waitresses locked up and flipped the open sign so it read closed. The Diamond closed at two a.m. on Sundays, and as Riley helped her out of the booth, the waitstaff and bartenders began tidying up for the night.
“You’re stumbling,” Riley commented with a sigh, holding her arm to steady her.
“I’m so not stumbling.”
“Yeah, you are. Slurring too.” He shot her an endearing grin. “I must say, you’re a lousy drunk.”
“Am not.” She craned her head up to look at him. His rugged features suddenly looked hazy to her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have stood up just yet. “You came here to talk or have sex?”
“Talk, Ms. One-Track-Mind, but I think it’ll have to wait. You’re obviously in no condition to pay attention.” He gave her ass a little pinch. “So sex it is.”
He started leading her toward the back corridor, but she tugged on his arm and stopped him. “Uh-uh. I want to stay down here.”
He lowered his voice. “And screw me in front of your entire staff?”
Waving a dismissive hand, she pushed him aside and sank back into the booth. “They’ll be gone soon.”
Her entire body was wracked with impatience and arousal as she waited for her employees to finish wiping down each table and take care of the nightly duties. Riley didn’t sit down, just stood over her, looking intrigued. She was drunk, yeah, but not drunk enough that she couldn’t see the golden opportunity in front of her. Or more specifically, across the room. She’d pictured this moment so many times she couldn’t possibly pass it up now.
“The safe’s all locked up,” Greg said, approaching the booth. “The deposit’s in there, ready to be dropped at the bank tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Greg.”
The bartender grinned. “You’re slurring.”
“Told you,” Riley said.
One by one, the Diamond employees left the bar. After the last waitress walked out, Sam stumbled to her feet and locked up, then turned to Riley and said, “Pool table.”
He raised his brows. “What about it?”
“We’re going to have sex on it.”
One brow soared up to his forehead. “Are you serious?”
“Oh yeah.” She swayed over to the table and hopped up so she was sitting on the edge of the green felt.
Riley crossed the room with purposeful strides. “You realize anybody who walks past the front window will see us?”
“So?”
He parted her knees with his hands and pressed his denim-clad lower body against her. “Is this a fantasy of yours or something?”
“Mmm-hmmm.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed his butt. “The first time I saw you, you were shooting pool at this table. I wanted you, right then and there.”
His thumb traced the line of her jaw. “You should’ve taken me.”
“I tend to procrastinate,” she replied with a sigh.
His fingers skipped down her chin and toyed with the silver pendant dangling around her neck. He played with the little letter “B” on the chain, looking curious. “What does the B stand for?”
“Bethany—my mom’s name. This necklace belonged to her.” She smiled. “I think she would have liked you, you know.”
He gave a rueful shake of his head. “I’m about to sleep with you on a pool table. She would’ve
hated
me.”
Sam laughed. “Naah. Mom liked the bad boys as much as I do.”
“So you think I’m a bad boy, huh?”
Before she could answer, he slipped his hand underneath her floral-print skirt and tugged at her panties. The silk slid down her legs and, a second later, his finger slid into her.
She moaned.
“Well, you’re right, I am,” he murmured. He wiggled his finger around, chuckling when she whimpered. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
She could barely keep her head up as Riley moved his finger in and out of her. That drunk, giddy feeling buzzing through her mingled with the thrill of being fingered on the pool table, ten feet from the window where any passersby could see them.
With one hand, Riley pulled down the neckline of her top and exposed her bra. She quickly unclasped the front hook for better access. He dipped his head and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking her hard, biting her sensitive flesh until she let out a cry of pleasure that bordered on pain.
“God, I want you,” he mumbled into her breast, continuing to tease her pussy with his finger.
She opened her mouth to give a breathy comeback, but an orgasm suddenly ripped through her, catching her completely by surprise. “Riley,” she moaned as she bucked into his probing fingers.
She struggled to catch her breath, but he robbed the oxygen right out of her lungs again when he pushed his pants down and shoved his rock-hard dick inside her. The felt of the pool table scratched her bottom, but she didn’t give a damn.
This
was what sex was supposed to be like. Out of control. Wild. Just two people taking all the pleasure they could get from each other, groaning, gasping, driving each other over that orgasmic edge.
She felt him start to withdraw and clutched his bare ass, keeping him between her legs. “Come inside me,” she murmured. “I’m on the pill.” She dug her fingers into his firm buttocks. “I need to feel you come inside me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He thrust once, twice, then exploded inside her, squeezing her tits as he came.
Shuddering, he pressed his face in the curve of her neck. His two-day beard chafed her skin, but she liked it. With a sated little purr, she kissed him on the mouth and said, “We really should’ve done this two years ago.”
His hot breath fanned over her neck as he gently placed a kiss against her skin. When he pulled back, she saw the obvious distress in his eyes. “Sam, we really need to talk now.”
She twined her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face against his broad shoulder. “No. No talking.”
“It’s important.”
“Nothing can be more important than enjoying my last night in town.” She was startled to feel her eyes well up with tears. God, she never cried. Obviously the alcohol was making her emotional. Or maybe it was the thought of saying goodbye to Riley tomorrow.
He must have felt the moisture seep through his shirt, because he tilted her chin with one hand and brushed at her wet eyes with the other. “Hey, don’t cry,” he murmured. “I really don’t handle tears well.”