Stay for Me Page 4

  Like fire that realized it was on dry ground and free to burn, the thought of being in there with her jolted his body awake. Years old, buried, and desperate desire, came out of hiding. He would put himself through hell to be able to have her and not hurt her. But standing directly behind Emma as she unlocked and opened the black door, he saw how he still engulfed her.

  From her petite shoulders came a giant heave as she took the first step inside.

  In that instant, he knew she was wrong. He could and should choose not to go inside, but he did have something to show her. That she was safe when they were together. He couldn’t believe that was what this had turned into but he found some small ground to stand on and be thankful. He wouldn’t piss this opportunity away. A man took responsibility for his actions, no matter how far in the past they’d happened and how much time he’d spent racking up distance, hiding. Sam would be the ambassador of control and restraint once they were on the other side of this door.

  He had to prod her forward the next step. And the next, which set off a mile-long trail of red flags.

  He waited and let her be the one to turn and close the door.

  As soon as he heard it click, he slid his hands inside the tight pants pockets and held them there.

  The room was dark and chilly, and her breathing echoed in his ears. He went in search of the light switch. The low bulb setting purposely only lit the room one shade lighter, but it was enough to see the shadow dampening her pretty face.

  “Okay,” she said out loud, like she was her own coach. “Okay.”

  “We’re out of here, Emma. Now.”

  She held up her small hand and he’d have latched onto it had his hands been available. “No. We’re not leaving. I’m fine. I just needed a second,” she said. That wasn’t her “I’ve got this” voice. She was acting and not doing a very bang-up job of it.

  Sam had no choice but to touch.

  He fumbled around and found her other hand and took it into his, receiving an instantaneous jolt of comfort. He hoped he affected her the same way but couldn’t be sure. She was awfully still.

  Emma looked at the neon hands of the wall clock. “We have one hour before the second show lets out,” she said.

  “I’m assuming you have some plan, Emma.” God, please tell him she had a plan. Because the only one he had was to let go and keep his hands to himself, no matter what.

  She stared through him and scanned the near nothingness of the room. “I do. I do have one. I want you to strip for me, Sam.”

  Chapter Five

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” she said back.

  She had to be out of her mind.

  “Do this, Sam. Trust me.”

  She kept saying that. He wanted to shake her shoulders and yell, “I do” until she believed him, but those brute tactics never worked on her. Yelling, showing his frustration, would only serve to keep them from dealing in the here and now. He had to be honest, and this desperate move of hers was evidence that once and for all they had to address that night.

  “You know I can’t say no to you, and what about your job? What do you think it would do to me if I got you fired?”

  Her brown eyes closed and looked back up at him, determined. “Relations gets people fired. This isn’t us having relations,” she said.

  He’d call her a liar but something held his tongue. Something like the way her words just now felt like a slap to a silly boy’s face who had gotten things all wrong with the girl he liked.

  “Fine. I trust you.” He stepped to her, being sure to leave an inch between them so they didn’t touch. But she was so close, all he had to do was whisper the rest. “Don’t you dare let this be about anything more, Emma.” He wouldn’t finish with what was really in his heart. If she said this wasn’t about relations, then he had to accept it and not expect anything else.

  He supposed he owed her.

  “This is really what you want?” he asked one last time to be sure.

  Her slow nod made him think twice but when she rubbed her palms down her thighs, all he could do was act.

  One piece of clothing at a time, he shucked out of his dress whites, starting a neat pile on the floor. He fisted the sides of his collar in each hand and slowly popped the shirt open.

  Her gaze burned each bit of his skin as he exposed it to her.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  He kept his eyes on her the whole time. She’d started that way, too, but her eyes began to drift and roam. This was torture.

  His dick, which shouldn’t be any part of this equation, was hard and throbbing from Emma’s curious stare. Impossible to hide and irritating as hell, being he was a pro at keeping that crap in check every night in front of hundreds of women. His abs clenched so tight that breathing was leaving him light-headed, and every nerve ending in him had one single response. Coming alive as she watched him strip down for her. God, the way she was watching him, so determined to keep that straight face. But her big brown eyes were the liars.

  Finally, he stepped out of his shiny black shoes, set them aside, and then undid the buttons of his pants and slid them off.

  The pile grew while the room felt like it was shrinking.

  He considered topping the pile off with his booty pants, but decided the heat warming up her cheeks to that spicy rose color right now was enough. His hands rested on his hips as he prepared to say he was finished, and ask what now?

  On second thought, screw it.

  She’d insisted. It was twisted, but all Sam could think was that the harder he pushed himself to go into this place for her, the more proof she’d have that she was safe with him. The more raw and real he was with her right now, and the more intimate this was, the better his argument would be. See? He’d tell her afterward. I could have taken advantage, and I didn’t. You, Emma, you can trust me.

  With his thumbs, he hooked each side of his briefs and tugged down. He thought he heard her cough. He definitely saw the heel of her right foot raise before she pushed it back down to the ground. Out of her view, he blew out and then continued with the briefs. They caught on his erection but he ignored the uncomfortable slapping of his dick against his abdomen and stepped out of them.

  The pile was complete, minus the hat and gloves he’d left in his locker. Her jaw was loose, her eyes shiny and unreadable.

  Damn, he couldn’t take that look. If she only knew how much it was killing him. What in the hell was he doing? Sam stepped to her. Slowly, he lost the restraint. He needed one touch. Leaving only inches between them, he failed and took a piece of her shirt-dress between his fingers where it was wet. Like nothing he’d wanted this badly before, he’d live on the streets to feel her soft breasts right now as they rose and fell with her chest as she breathed. Instead, he fought and whispered down at her. “Is this what you wanted, Emma? Me stripped to the bone like this with the promise I won’t touch you?”

  Her head sort of rolled back, then finished the half circle back to the front. Did that mean yes or no? What he did know for certain was that she was shaken but trying to hide it. Being harsh with her was painful and wrong.

  It wasn’t who he was. Not with her.

  This was ending. Now.

  Decided, Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead, picked up her dangling hand, and gave it a squeeze then let it fall. It skimmed down his chest, killing him. Then he turned and left the room in all his glory, willing his hard-on away. It didn’t take long as soon as the door was between them and the cold hallway air iced his skin. His lust evaporated. On the heels of that, the empty feeling began to sink his heart.

  Gabe stood outside the door.

  “Hey man, I could have sworn I saw Emma go in ahead of you.” Gabe asked, his one eyebrow hitched up. “Everything okay? She still in there? You forgot your clothes.”

  Sam appreciated the frown on Gabe’s face and the concern making his friend entirely too wordy, but right now all he wanted was to rush ba
ck in, take her in his arms, and be with her.

  Finally.

  He tugged at the one side of his hair and slammed his hands back into the door. He realized how hard he’d hit it when the door whined at his force. He shouldn’t have left like that. He should have stayed with his best friend, confused and acting out as she was right now.

  “Did anyone else see us go in?” he asked Gabe, worried about the implications and her job.

  “Nah man, I was alone.”

  Sam remembered noting the monitor’s light was turned off inside. As of right now, only Gabe, himself, and Emma knew about this situation. Her job was safe, for the time being. He shook his head in fierce frustration. “She’s not coming out. Damn it.” That had been his hope. She comes out. They go across the street for thick, bitter diner coffee, and stay awake the rest of the night talking about what just happened. He makes sure she walks away safe and unharmed.

  He could deal with the consequences of his actions after the fallout. Yeah, it’d hurt like hell to go through all that again but he’d do it, and this time there would be no question. He’d take one-hundred percent of the blame and make sure she never had to deal with him in this way again.

  “You need to finish up whatever you two have going…I’ll hang out,” Gabe said slowly toward the end and raised his brows again like he was agreeing to watch the door.

  “Nothing’s happening,” Sam stated for the record. The one that had to be clean and not get Emma in trouble here at the club. He whispered to Gabe the rest. “Going back in there is the last thing I should be doing.” He paused, not knowing what to make of what had just happened. And that’s when it hit him. Emma hated that room. No way should she be holed up inside. Something else was wrong with her. He had to go back. “She needs help. I trust you not to say anything to anyone.”

  Gabe nodded in understanding. “I’ll stay close by then. But hey, don’t forget. You don’t work here anymore, bro.” Gabe lifted his chin to Sam like he’d just spelled out the obvious. “As far as anyone’s concerned, all I saw was an S staff member take a non-employee guest inside to make use of the room. That’s what we do here, bro. So, uh, keep that in mind.”

  He knew Gabe only meant well, but all that meant to Sam was that there was nothing, no rules, nothing holding him back from Emma now. That was a big problem. He reminded himself that there might not be any rules, but there were consequences. There always were. Huge ones.

  Sam opened the door to S room, prepared to deal with these huge consequences if it meant helping Emma. His insides were torn up. He let the door close behind him.

  “Please come here, Emma,” he said to the black walls housing them. He eyed the only piece of furniture in the darkened room and the spot where the only real light shone on his pile of white clothes. Slowly, he took a seat. Tried to rock it. It didn’t budge. The armless chair was solid.

  It will hold both of our weight. The vagrant thought scared and turned him on in ways it shouldn’t.

  But he knew it was true. He’d sat in the damn thing many times before.

  “I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry,” he said then waited, controlling his breath.

  She walked out of the dark corner. Shaken and very un-Emma like.

  Clearly, he had more to prove.

  Chapter Six

  Emma paced forward.

  She retraced her steps to the door.

  She stalled and ran her hands through her hair. It needed to be washed.

  Emma stalked around the room some more.

  She sat down on the floor and carefully relocated his pile of dress whites to her side, then picked them up with the utmost care and set them on her lap. It was too enticing not to indulge, and she needed something to dull her nerves. On a huge inhale, Emma sank her head nose first into his clothes. They smelled like man heaven. Sweat. Soldier. Sam.

  Wherever he’d gone, he was naked, and all she wanted was for him to come back so she could apologize for making him jump through some ridiculous burning hoop and give him his clothes back.

  I’ve lost it. I’m nuts.

  So he’d quit.

  She hadn’t and wouldn’t. He knew why. She just wasn’t as good a saver as he was. Managing Club Mantasy had become her heart’s work because of the people involved. One of these days, she’d want to take care of her parents, and the experience of being a manager would always get her work out here in the desert mecca of gambling and entertainment.

  Back to the being “nuts.” Even though Sam didn’t work here any longer, Emma was pretty sure Ellen would frown on her using the club for personal use.

  Ugh. This place. S room.

  Sit. Stay.

  “Sam.”

  Maybe saying his name out loud would replace the ugliness of what Luka had done to her in here. “Sam,” she said louder and slapped her hands down over his military costume. “Sam.”

  She’d made a huge mistake asking him to strip for her, but she’d go out there now, track him down, and do her best to explain how fear ruled her every thought when it came to this small room. The one chair. Nowhere to hide if things went horribly wrong, or worse, he realized just how far out of her league he was. One of these days Sam would figure out she wasn’t as strong and smart as he saw her.

  Was she willing to put their friendship through this? How could she face him yet again if things went badly? The only guy she trusted to erase Luka from her memory was the one person she couldn’t play these messed up games with. Emma took too many short breaths in and out and had to stop for a very long one. One where she thought very hard about leaving safety behind and getting lost in the complete unknown of this room—with Sam.

  She stared at the chair and saw herself sitting there like an idiot. Staying.

  Yeah, Sam didn’t know what Luka had done. The jerk hadn’t lasted long as a dancer after several complaints. Gabe had kept her secret, otherwise Sam would have without question done something to have gotten himself jailed and probably fired a long time ago.

  She shook her head and inhaled his clothes one more time, thankful Sam didn’t know how stupid she’d been.

  It would have been easy to sneak back to her office. To hide. Wait him out. Let him leave. Avoid him for a while and then seek him out after a couple weeks, hoping he’d found a new night job and was too busy to recall her cowardice and this great mistake she’d just made. Seeing him bare and raw like she’d just done hadn’t left her feeling any different, stronger, or better about their situation like she’d thought. Of course he’d be capable of taking his clothes off for her without letting things go any further. His confidence rivaled his control.

  Hers had, too, at one time.

  A fresh headache started on its way to her temples.

  She glanced at the current cast’s pictures hanging on the wall. Sam’s hung there, his face serious and seductive.

  Caught up in her gazing, she only noticed someone had entered the room with her when someone started fidgeting with the chair. She put her hand over her heart to slow the beat. She glanced up from the corner where she sat and saw Sam take a seat. As if on command, her arms, legs, chest, neck, it all responded to his presence. It all left ration behind and instead focused on being held. Sharing his space.

  “I shouldn’t have left,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She got up and walked to him, unable to stay hidden in her safe corner. “I shouldn’t have asked you to strip for me. I’m sorry more.”

  A few more seconds passed before his posture softened and his shoulders curled inward, although only just barely, and it did nothing to make him appear smaller.

  “I’d offer you a seat but…” He gestured to his naked lap and shrugged. “Emma,” he said, then stopped to take in a deep breath. “I should actually get dressed.”

  “Hey, this is all my fault. I’ve gone and made this as weird as it possibly could be. Let’s just pretend the last half hour never happened. Okay? Chalk it up to candy corn sugar high. And tomorrow we can go to the movies.
I think Home Alone is playing at the theater. I’ll even spring for the expensive candy. And an icee if you’ll just promise to forget—”

  ****

  There was no way he’d ever be able to forget the way she’d watched him tonight, his every movement. Her deep brown eyes had given her away. As much as he wished they could call do-over, Sam knew that wasn’t possible. Not now. Too late. The can had been opened and things they could no longer avoid were out. Literally, he’d stripped himself for her minutes ago.

  Nope, this wasn’t done, and to give her the peace of mind she so obviously needed, Emma was going to have to suck it up. She had to stay. In here. With him. What he needed to do became clear. His mouth warmed so much he could chug a gallon of ice water.

  He let a breath out, ready to say what needed to be said, once and for all.

  “The movies?” Sam resisted the urge to run a finger down along the piece of long bang hanging there near her cheek. He had to focus. “We’ve been to the movies a million times together. It doesn’t hurt to go to the movies. At the end of the night, you know the question isn’t whether we would have a fun time. The answer is yes, Emma. You’re my best friend. We like the same music and rival football teams to keep it fun. Perfect, right? You cook, I eat. Every month, we come this close to adopting a dog. We both know, these aren’t the questions we need answered right now.”

  ****

  “I know. You’re right.” Should she remind him? Add the first thing that had popped into her mind as he read off his list? What was the point of holding back now? “My family loves you. Mom lives to feed you mashed potatoes and stuffing every year. You forgot to add that.”

  Barely, just barely, the corner of his mouth turned up into the hint of a grin before he became serious-faced again.

  “All this stuff we’re so great at…that’s not what needs to be proved, is it?” she asked, knowing the answer.

  His beautiful, cropped head fell into his hands and when he looked back up, she could see just how serious he was taking this.