Page 11 of Wallflower

The bar appears before us, Sam’s smirk shining through the crowd. He closes in on me, disregarding my stunner of a sister entirely. It makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“Problem?” he questions, referring to the encounter with my stepbrother and his idiot-stick parasitic best friend.

“Nope,” I reply as Sam’s arm wraps around me, tugging me closer. My face has to match the colour of my hair as the world narrows to only us. No stumbling strangers, no loud music, no hateful family. Only him and his cerulean eyes locking me in, smothering out the room around us.

Sam’s lips swoop down, capturing mine in a sudden and hungry kiss. His fingers curl into my bare skin as his tongue becomes demanding. Unable to resist him, my tongue slips out, sliding against his.

His body tenses, then loosens leisurely, as he fights to restrain himself, and it just drives my need to ride him higher. Slowly, he pulls away, leaving me breathless and wanting. “You look beautiful,” he drawls. His blown pupils light me up, and the way hunger drips from his words makes me wet. For fuck’s sake, it’s been like thirty seconds and I’m a horny puddle. But I need him to satiate the need ripping through me like a wildfire.

Darting my sights over Sam’s shoulder, I witness my sister lightly dragging her fingers down the bartender’s arm as they lean in close to converse over the noise. She’s got him hooked, without a doubt. But he’s still working and I can’t abandon her until his shift is done.

Sam turns his head. “Looks like your sister has a thing for Brad.”

“Yeah, she mentioned him earlier.”

“Interesting…” he says slowly, leaving me hanging.

“Why is that interesting?” I probe.

“Because he mentioned how hot your sister was when you two were talking at the bar.”

Like usual, my confidence deflates. I’m an ugly duckling compared to Chelsea, who should have been a model instead of a thoracic surgeon. But she’s too smart not to do anything with the brain she was gifted.

It’s stupid of me to pout over this, and that’s not really the nucleus of the issue. It just snowballs back to the fact that the one man who seems to yearn for me, isn’t going to be around when the week is over.

“Want to dance?” Sam’s warm voice breaks through the depressing thoughts, and I shrug. He leads us to the back of the room, leaving Chelsea behind. The music isn’t any quieter here, but the overstimulating sound of a hundred people screaming over each other has diminished. “What’s the matter?”

I’m not about to dump mypoor-me’sat his feet. That will undoubtedly smash the mock persona I’m presenting to pieces. “I just feel bad ditching Chels.”

He looks back to her, still bent over the bar soaking up all Brad’s attention, irritating everyone around her who wants to order a drink. “She looks happy to me.”

“Yeah… But what happens when Brad needs to go back to work and she’s alone, looking for me?”

“Don’t you have family she can sit with?”

That’s true, but it’s unfair of me to subject her to them after the shit this afternoon, and the inquisition she will get after Tyler blabs about the dragon skeleton inked across my shoulders and down my spine. “Yeah…I guess.”

Sam’s sight shoots behind me, eyes narrowing, nostrils flaring. His grip on me tightens as I try to catch a look at whatever has diverted his attention. Tyler and Liam loom by the exit, a glower on their faces as my stepbrother dramatically clocks my back with his eyes, and ominously waves his fingers. Liam flaps his arms like wings, cawing like a crow with a busted larynx, causing Tyler to double over in laughter.

“Idiots,” I grumble.

“What are they going on about?”

“My tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” he snaps, startling me. Sam clears his throat with a cough, before flipping his voice back to normal—all warm and comforting. “Can I see?”

Slowly, I pull from his embrace. Turning around to face the duo by the door, I reveal my back to Sam. His touch is soft as it trails down my spine, following the bones of the beast. A delicious shiver follows in its wake, settling low in my gut.

I extend both hands toward Tyler and Liam, flipping my middle fingers at them as Sam cocoons me from behind, nestling his chin in the crook of my neck. “Let’s get out of here, pretty girl,” he croons against my skin as Chelsea sidles up next to us, Brad’s arm slung over her shoulder.

Having her by my side dissipates the guilt I felt about abandoning her and I nod. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Sam winks, threading his fingers through mine.

Encased in comfortable silence, he leads the four of us down the hall and out onto the main deck. With a smile on his handsome face, and a mischievous glint in his deepening gaze, he guides me toward a row of fancyReservedlounge chairs. They’re a significant upgrade from the basic plastic ones that line the majority of the area.

Brad and Chelsea break off from our small group, giving us privacy, but keeping close enough to stay aware of each other.