Page 19 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

I bide my time for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

Beth tries not to show it, but she’s shaken by the events of today.

Howard Kline was in her safe space—the bookstore.

Of course, that’s going to affect her. Shane spends the rest of the afternoon and evening at her side, trying to distract her, promising he has the situation under control, assuring her she has nothing to worry about.

I take a shower a few minutes before ten, and afterward I pack a small duffle bag with a change of clothes, lube, and condoms. I’m sure Sam has lube and condoms, but I’m sure as hell not going to leave that to chance. I don’t want anything messing tonight up.

I’m heading into the foyer when Shane comes out of the kitchen. He eyes my duffle bag. “Going somewhere?”

“Yes.” My heart starts racing.

“I assume you’re on your way to Sam’s?”

I nod, not restating the obvious.

“You’re asking for trouble, Cooper. I told you not to get involved with him. You won’t be able to keep this under wraps forever, you know. Eventually, it will come out. Either that, or Sam’s going to get hurt. He’s good for Beth. She likes him. Don’t fuck this up for her.”

Sam’s already been hurt.

“Shane, he’s—I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Please don’t ask me to stay away from him.”

“I just don’t want either one of you getting hurt.”

I’m afraid it’s too late for that. “I know. I’ll be careful.”

* * *

I take the private elevator down to Sam’s floor. When I knock on his door, it opens immediately. I take that as a good sign. He was expecting me—waiting for me. “I was afraid you might have changed your mind.”

“I nearly did,” he says as he steps back so I can enter. “I almost texted you twice to tell you not to bother.”

He’s wearing a pair of red plaid flannel shorts and a white T-shirt featuring a pink unicorn with a glittery horn seated beneath a rainbow. I think he’s trying to make a statement.

I get it, Sam. You’re out and proud.

But we’re not all so lucky.

Sam eyes my duffle bag. “Planning to stay a while?”

I drop it just inside the door. “I just wanted to be prepared in case you decide I can spend the night. Have you? Decided, I mean.”

“No.” He closes and locks the door. “I haven’t. Let’s see how this goes.”

“Okay. Fair enough.” For a moment, I just stare at his face, taking him in. Then impulse takes over and I pull him into my arms and kiss him.

When we come together, it’s electric, like we’re both dying for it. I cup his face as I devour his mouth. Our breaths are rough. His hands clutch my biceps hard, his fingers digging into my muscles.

I step close so he can feel how hard I am for him—how much I want him. And there’s no denying the impressive erection he’s got going on.

And the next thing I know, he’s pushing me away. “No.” He shakes his head adamantly. “I am not your fuck toy, and this isn’t a booty call. This is supposed to be a date , Cooper, not a Grindr hook-up. There will be no sex until I know you’re serious about this.”

My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. “Okay.” Hell, I want him so badly I’ll agree to anything he says.

Sam’s face is flushed, and he’s breathing just as hard as I am. The outline of his erection is obvious. He’s not lacking in the arousal department. Obviously, he wants me to prove myself. I can do that.

In an effort to calm my body, I turn and survey his living room.

The mostly empty tin of chocolate chip cookies I left on his welcome mat is sitting open on the coffee table next to an empty beer bottle.

There’s a gaming console beside it, and what looks like a first-person shooter game is frozen in mid-play on the TV. “Playing a video game?”

Sam nods. “Yeah. Want to play?”

I chuckle. “I haven’t played video games since I was a kid.”

“What did you play back in the olden days?”

“Pong and Frogger on my thirteen-inch black-and-white TV.”

“Seriously? You had a black-and-white TV?”

God, he’s making me feel old. “Yeah. This was way before your time.”

He laughs. “Apparently.” He starts toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab us two cold ones.”

I take a seat on the sofa and look around. The place is neat and tidy. Everything still looks brand spanking new.

When Sam returns, he joins me on the sofa and hands me one of the beers. I take a swig and set the bottle down on the coffee table on a Star Trek coaster. It’s an image from one of the newer shows, not the original I’m used to. I gesture to the TV. “Show me the game. I’m sure I can catch on.”

Sam resumes playing. His character, decked out in full military combat gear, is running through what looks like a destroyed urban war zone, shooting indiscriminately at everything that moves.

His character runs and ducks, hiding behind derelict vehicles and piles of concrete rubbish.

Characters pop out from behind every obstacle known to man and take pot shots at him. Sam fires and obliterates them all.

“Do you want to play?” he asks as he offers me the controller.

I stare at the screen. “That is so unrealistic, Sam. It’s not going to make anyone a better shot.”

He grins. “It’s not supposed to. It’s just for fun. How about something else? How about a racing game?”

“Sure. Let’s do that.”

Sam hands me a spare controller as he changes out the game. He demos the game, racing his muscle car through a ridiculous urban course.

“And before you say it,” Sam says, “I know this isn’t going to make anyone a better driver. That’s not the point.”

“Fine. We’ll play the game.”

Even though Sam’s beating me, I’m not doing a horrible job.

He maintains his lead, but that’s not surprising given my focus isn’t on the game, but rather on the fact he’s sitting so close to me our legs brush.

He’s wearing shorts, which means I’m seeing a lot of bare leg.

His right forearm occasionally brushes my left, and if he hadn’t been so serious about the no sex rule, I’d think he was teasing me on purpose.

We play three games. Sam wins the first two, but I finally start paying attention during the third game—once my body finally accepts the fact there won’t be any sex tonight—and eke out a win, but barely.

“I’m hungry,” Sam says. “Wanna order a pizza?”

“Sure.” I could make him something, but I have no idea what’s currently in his kitchen, so ordering out is probably a wise idea.

We end up dimming the lights and watching a sci-fi movie, pausing when the pizza arrives at our door, carried up by a building staff member.

So this is what a date feels like? I find myself relaxing next to him. After two beers, we switch to drinking Coke because too much alcohol would not be a good idea. We follow up the pizza by polishing off the last two chocolate chip cookies.

“You owe me another tin,” Sam says, laughing when he shoves the last bite of cookie into his mouth.

I sigh in exaggeration. “I’ll bake you more tomorrow.”

“Would it be too much to ask for peanut butter cookies? You know, the ones with the crosshatch lines on top? My mom makes those a lot.”

I smile. “Peanut butter it is.”

Halfway through the movie, Sam leans into me, brushing my shoulder with his. “You can stay the night if you want, as long as you promise there’ll be no sex.”

“You like torturing me, don’t you?” I ask without malice.

To my surprise, I’m actually enjoying myself this evening.

Sam’s exuberance for everything from unrealistic video games to unrealistic sci-fi movies to his appreciation for homemade cookies is endearing.

Right now, if he asked me for the moon, I’d give it to him.

“No sex. I promise, Sam.” And to my surprise, I actually mean it.

I’ll promise him anything if he’ll let me stay.

Toward the end of the movie, I can tell Sam’s running out of steam. He leans more heavily into me and rests his head on my shoulder. When he lays his hand on my thigh, I cover it with my own and link our fingers together.

Even though our eyes are on the screen, I suspect we’re both hyperaware of each other’s proximity. I lightly rub the back of his hand with my thumb, and he tightens his grip on my fingers.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to have sex with Sam tonight. Of course, I do. If he changed his mind and gave me the green light, I’d be all over him. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our first time. Surely it wasn’t as good as I remember.

But obviously he needs me to do this—to abstain tonight—to show him I can spend time with him without the promise of sex.

I can. Of course, I can.

I may die of blue balls in the process, but I’ll push through it.

When the movie ends, it’s late. Clearly Sam is tired. I am, too. We clean up our late-night dinner mess, throwing away the trash and putting the empty bottles in the recycling bin.

While Sam disappears into the bathroom to get ready for bed, I turn off all the lights, double-check that the door is locked, and carry my duffle bag to his bedroom. I’m pulling a toothbrush out of my bag when he walks into the bedroom wearing nothing but his charcoal gray boxer briefs.

Holy fuck.

“Now I know you’re trying to torture me,” I say with a groan. Because looking at his body makes me crazy.

Sam’s nearly as tall as I am, but I outweigh him by at least thirty pounds.

He’s muscular, but lean. Because he has hardly any fat on him, I can see the outline of his muscles beneath his lightly freckled skin.

He’s got a lean waist, framed by his adonis belt.

There’s a thin line of auburn hair extending from his navel down to disappear beneath the waistband of his underwear.

His chest is devoid of hair, his skin as smooth as a baby’s.

His piercings glitter in the lamplight, drawing my eye to his dusky-pink nipples.

Black tribal tattoos wind down his arms and across his abdomen.

He walks up to me and takes hold of the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it off me.

“You said no sex,” I remind him, hoping desperately that the rules for tonight have changed.

“I did. But that doesn’t mean we can’t touch.” He runs his hands up my arms to my shoulders, then down my chest to my waistband. He unfastens my jeans and slowly lowers the zipper.

I swallow hard. “You are playing with fire, kid.”

“Maybe I like playing with fire, old man .” He laughs.

“God, please don’t call me that. I already feel older than the hills compared to you.”

“Then don’t call me kid .”

“Touché.”

I kick off my shoes and drop my jeans. My boxer briefs stay on. “Get in bed, Sam. I only have so much willpower.”

Smiling, he climbs into bed.

I head to the bathroom and get myself ready for bed. When I return to the bedroom, I turn off the light and join him.

We’re lying awkwardly side by side, both of us staring at the ceiling.

“I had fun tonight,” Sam says. “Thanks.”

“I did, too.” It’s true. I enjoyed spending time with him.

He turns onto his side to face me. “Did you really? Or are you just saying that?”

“No, I mean it. It was nice.”

Sam reaches out his index finger and starts drawing a figure eight on my bare chest.

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember what I said about playing with fire? You’re going to give me blue balls if you keep doing that.”