The Fall Up

Shaking my head, I cracked the window and reluctantly crawled into the seat beside him. “Nah. Go ahead.”


I didn’t take a nap, but I did lay my head in his lap. Then I watched as he chain-smoked the entire way back to my house, perhaps while dragging a fingernail up and down the seam of his jeans. Maybe.

Definitely.





“THANK FUCK!” SAM said, swinging the door open before Devon even had the car in park.

“Oh, this isn’t my place. We’re just dropping Devon off. I’m about twenty minutes across town?” I tossed him a sugary smile then boldly shifted my hand into his lap, purposely brushing the bulge under his denim.

Grabbing my wrist, he narrowed his eyes and called out, “Devon, I’m gonna need to borrow a bedroom.”

I burst out laughing as Devon cursed loudly.

“Fine. This is my place. No smoking inside though,” I snipped as I climbed from the SUV.

“You better have some seriously exciting extracurricular activities to keep me distracted, then.”

“I have Ping-Pong!”

“Not exactly what I was thinking.” He mischievously cocked his head. “But I guess paddles and balls are as good a start as any.” Dipping down, he hoisted me over his shoulder. “Point me to the Ping-Pong table, my lady.”

I didn’t. I laughed hysterically as he carried me inside. Then I directed him to my bedroom instead.

I heard Devon locking up the house as Sam deposited me on the bed.

“Jesus. This view.” He pushed the curtains back. “Why the hell would you ever go up to the bridge when you have this here?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, pulling my earrings off and placing them on my nightstand.

Oh, but I knew. It might not have been what had originally sent me up that bridge, but it was why my feet carried me back every night. And that very reason was currently standing in front of me with entirely too much clothing on.

“You want a beer?” I asked, sliding my shoes off.

“Nah, I’m good.” He faced me, and I could tell something was off with his demeanor. He didn’t inch any closer. Instead, his lips were tight and his eyes uncomfortably flashed around the room.

It suddenly didn’t feel like Sam standing in front of me at all.

He felt like a stranger who had just come face-to-face with Levee Williams.

Damn it.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you about to freak out?” I whispered, nervously moistening my lips.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m not really sure yet. But I’m gonna need you to stop licking your lips long enough for me to figure it out.” His mouth cracked into a wide grin, and my shoulders relaxed.

Now that was a flash of my Sam.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s just… I think this is the first time I’ve realized that you’re some big-time celebrity. I might be in over my head here, Designer Shoes.”

“I just make music, Sam.” I returned his smile and very slowly prowled in his direction. “Imagine how I feel though. You’re Samuel Nathan Rivers. A tough, tattooed furniture designer who makes six figures a year but is too afraid to tell his mommy he votes democratic.” I giggled as he frowned humorously. Stopping in front of him, I dragged a fingernail down his chest then teased the waistband of his jeans. “Have you considered that maybe I’m the one who’s in over her head here?” I leaned forward to nip at his lips, but he spun us around.

“Excellent point. I’m going to need you to try really hard to keep it together, Levee. You haven’t even seen my six-pack and huge cock, yet.” He smirked and attempted to return my nip, but I stepped out of his reach.

“You brought beer and chicken?” I feigned excitement.

That one corny joke was all it took to bring my Sam back completely.

With a sexy smile and a coy shrug, he seductively backed me toward the bed. “What can I say? I like to be prepared.”

“Clearly,” I breathed.

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