Blue Moon (3 page)

Until now, Kyle hadn’t even heard the music softly playing outside on the patio. And he’d lost track of Sam.

Shuffling through the crowd, he followed the slow cry of a woman’s voice as she sang about love lost. When he stepped onto the patio he realized it was Cathy singing. Her willowy figure swayed with the music. Her eyelids shuttered as if she felt every note.

Then he saw Sam.

Wrapped in the embrace of an old school chum, she laid her head on Troy’s chest. Their closeness made the hair on Kyle’s neck spike with jealousy. The sonofabitch had always had a crush on Sam. Without thinking, he marched onto the dance floor. Troy was whispering something about her intoxicating perfume smelling like wildflowers when Kyle tapped on the man’s shoulder. Troy’s expression of shock was nothing compared to Sam’s, but he veered aside and Kyle stepped in, taking his place. Just the caress of his hand against hers and the heat in the small of her back made his heart take flight.

When he shuffled his feet, hers stood firm. He dipped his head, his mouth above her ear. “You don’t want to make a scene. It’s just a dance, Sam, nothing more.” But if he had his way it would be much more.

Without a word, she followed as he led, but she wasn’t happy. It was in her rigid backbone, the lightness of her touch. As if she thought her hand would burst into flames if she held on to his.

Ignoring her discontent, he held her closer, let the feel of her take him away to another place, another time, where she loved him and everything was right with his world.
God
. She felt so good in his arms, next to his body. Desire burned hot across his flesh. The need to be naked, skin to skin, buried deep inside her warmth, her haven. The urge was so strong he thought he’d go mad.

Instead, the song ended and so did his chance as she jerked out of his arms. Like flickering blue flames, the fire in her eyes danced over him, teasing his rising hormones. Damn, she was gorgeous when aroused, even if it was hatred for him that drove her. Her body shook with silent fury.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” Low and brittle, her whisper was filled with years of bitterness. With a snap of her shoulders, her silky mass of blonde hair whipped across his face, stinging as she spun around and disappeared amongst the throng.

The breath in his lungs locked. If she didn’t care, would she react so vehemently toward him? Could it be that she still loved him? The barest of possibilities sent his senses soaring.

Damn. Should he chase after her or dash behind a couch to hide his now obvious arousal? The material of his dress slacks was stretched taut over his hips. He wouldn’t make it through the night in this condition, much less be able to convince Sam to hear him out.

Hands lowered before him, he inched his way toward the bathroom right inside the house. As he sighted the door, he was thankful no one was about. Without making eye contact with anyone, he strolled into the restroom and locked the door. A rush of air pushed between his taut lips.

Remembering the way Sam had felt in his arms, the small of her back, the way she moved against him, sent a sharp pang through his groin. He groaned, cupping himself and squeezing.

What he would give to have her pressed up against the wall, that little black dress hiked up around her waist. What was she wearing beneath it? A thong? The image was too much to bear. With trembling hands, he slid his zipper down and released his cock. It sprang forth, eager for attention. Tensing, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft.

“Sam,” he moaned.

As his grip firmed, he thought of her delicate hand, the feel of her fingers gliding over him. With slow, measured pumps from the base to the tip, he recalled the feel of her small breasts pressed against her clingy dress. The sensation of her hips moving against his. He didn’t think it was possible but his cock stiffened further, balls drawing close to his body. A slight tingle, an ache made his grip tighten and his rhythm increase. Harder and faster, he thrust his hips forward, pushing his engorged erection through his fingers.

“God. Sam,” he breathed.

He leaned his free hand against the wall and threw back his head as fire licked his sensitive organ.

Fuck! It felt so good.

It would feel even better with Sam on her knees, that impertinent mouth of hers sucking his cock. A sudden rush of blood between his thighs made his body quiver, shake with the thought of her tongue licking down the length of him or her throat squeezing him tighter and tighter, while the warmth and moisture of her wet cavern took him deeper.

Out of nowhere his climax slammed into him, rocking him back on his heels. He barely had time to move to the sink, before a milky stream spewed forth. A moment of pure bliss passed, before he continued to pump his hand, up and down, fighting to remain silent and upright until the last of his seed was released.

Heart pounding, breathless, he pictured himself lying in Sam’s arms, content, happy, before he gave himself a shake and eased himself back into his pants. With short, quick movements he tucked his dress shirt into his slacks. His hands shook as he secured his zipper. Careful to clean up any evidence of what just occurred, he inhaled a cleansing breath, and then washed his hands. Silently he gazed into the mirror. If Sam still had feelings for him, maybe there was a chance.

With determination in his step, he unlocked the door and went in search of the only woman he had ever loved and would never willingly let go.

Kyle made his way through the house, stopping briefly to chat with a new client he had signed on just yesterday. When an opening arose he excused himself. If Sam was on the dance floor with Troy, Kyle would knock the man’s teeth out. But Sam wasn’t on the patio or in the house. A couple dancing knocked into him and he stumbled out of their way.

Where could she be?

Chapter Three

Arms crossed over her chest, Sam hugged herself, rocking quietly back and forth on the large boulder where she sat. Aimlessly, she stared into the dark waters of the swimming pool. Several attempts to think about the good times spent splashing in its depths were futile. She could still feel him. His hand locked around hers. His palm hot against the small of her back. His warm breath on her neck.

Damn him.

Why had he interrupted her dance with Troy? Why had he forced her to accept his touch, their bodies moving seductively together? To none other than Cathy’s singing.

With a heavy sigh, Sam’s head lolled backward. With her troubled gaze, she searched the heavens for an answer. But no response came thundering down. Only a blue moon, a betrayer’s moon, its shaded areas taking form through her tear-blurred vision.

“Of course.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth. “How
apropos
.” The old man in the moon seemed to be laughing at her misery.

She readjusted her position, the boulder beneath her hard, the cold penetrating through the thin fabric of her evening dress. Seattle nights could get nippy even in the summer, but she didn’t dare go back in the house and get her wrap. Sam would freeze to death before running into Kyle again tonight.

“Sammy?”

Cathy’s voice sent chills up Sam’s spine.

“I need to speak with you.”

Sam rolled her head from side to side listening to the snap, crackle, pop of her tendons. Did Cathy really want to get into this again?

“Please, it’s been two years.”

Dubious laughter burst from somewhere dark within Sam, but she didn’t turn around—didn’t face her sister. Instead she hummed, “Hmmm… Two years? Damn. It seems like just yesterday you were fucking my fiancé.” This time Sam spun around, leveling a heated glare at Cathy. “Who do you think you’re fooling? Since we were kids you have always wanted what was mine. I’m just surprised you haven’t been able to hold on to him. You’re slipping, Cathy.” Her grin held no humor. “Or did you move on? I hear there is another wedding for you to crash. Better hurry before some other bitch beats you to it.”

Her sister’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped.

Sam’s teeth ground together as she fought back tears. No way would she let Cathy know how badly she still hurt. “Screw this.” Her gaze narrowed. “Just stay out of my way. After the wedding—I’ll be gone.” Without waiting for a response, Sam stormed off toward the house, the people, the lights, the music and the alcohol.

The noise bordered on offensive, but everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, except for her. She quickly scanned the distance for Kyle. Not seeing him, she released a breath of relief. Thankfully the first person she did meet as she stepped upon the patio was a handsome server with a tray of champagne. Sam didn’t wait for him to offer her a glass, she took two and smiled. Tonight, she’d drown all her problems—dull the pain.

Maybe she’d stay drunk for the next two days.

Tipping the flute to her lips, she let the sparkling wine slide down her throat, the bubbly sting welcome. When she righted the drink, she was met with an empty glass and a rather annoyed mother. But that didn’t bother her. She had another glass of champagne.

Hands on hips, her mother glared at Sam. “What are you up to?”

“Partying. Having fun. You remember how it’s done, Mom. Here.” Shoving the empty flute into mother’s hand, Sam raised her full drink. “Tooo…” she stammered. “What the hell. Getting drunk and having a good time. No. Make that a great time.” Upending her glass, she chugged the contents down without taking a breath.

Her mother’s frown of disapproval didn’t faze Sam this time. Instead, she giggled. “Loosen up, Mom. The night is young. It’s a time to celebrate, so let’s
celebrate
.” She carelessly threw her arms in the air, waving them about.

“Samantha—”

But Sam wasn’t waiting around for a sermon. Humming to the tune of the band, she drowned out her mother’s voice and made a beeline for another waiter. Her gaze slid up and down the dark-haired man. Some of the help weren’t half bad. Maybe tonight she’d get lucky.

By the fifth drink Sam wasn’t feeling any pain. Well, except for the permanent smile plastered on her face, an occasional fit of giggles, and her cheeks felt lava hot. The night even looked hopeful as Troy asked her to dance.

Hand in his, she let him lead her onto the floor. The drummer beat out the tune of Trace Adkins’
Chrome
. The sexy lead singer growled, “
Ahhh… Son
.” The vibration slid down Sam’s spine like silk. Before Troy reached for her, her hips and shoulders began to move to the beat.

He grinned.

She smiled back.

Male appreciation gleamed in his eyes as his hands settled on her waist, slipping lower to ride her swaying hips. Without a second thought, she locked her fingers behind his neck and they started gliding across the makeshift dance floor.

Sam closed her eyes and let the music take her away. The night held a numbing beauty and she sighed, her body becoming an extension of the rhythm strumming through her. Head lolled back, she basked in the carefree stupor that had embraced her. Even Troy’s warm palm stroking up and down her back didn’t affect her.

“I’ve missed you, Sam,” he whispered against her ear, before he pressed his lips against her throat.

Her eyelids sprung wide. “Troy, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong—”

“Don’t say it.” He paused, before continuing. “I thought after all these years that you would have forgotten about Kyle—that maybe I had a chance.” For a moment they danced in silence, and then he spoke again. “You should know that I stumbled on Cathy coming out of your bedroom.”

Sam eased back so that they were an arm’s length away. “Tonight?”

“No!” He drew her closer, his voice lowering as they sashayed toward the edge of the dance floor. “The night before her wedding. At the time I didn’t think too much about it, until I heard what happened the next morning. Sam, she was wearing your perfume. And… Well, she bypassed her room heading down the hall towards… You know the rest.”

For a moment Sam was speechless. Her feet rooted to the floor as couples danced by. Had Cathy connived the whole thing? Had Kyle been innocent all this time? Sam gasped, finding it hard to breathe.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I’d hoped.” As Troy held onto her waist with one hand, his other one released hers. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he glanced at his feet. “Hell. I don’t know what I’d hoped.”

“Oh, Troy,” she moaned.

He raised his troubled gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve wanted you for so long.” He quickly added, “And who knows? Maybe Kyle invited Cathy into his room.”

Yeah. But what if he hadn’t? What if this was all Cathy’s fault? A little dark cloud in the back of her mind said,
And what if Troy is right?

Sam’s world felt like it was spinning out of control. “I need a drink.” She pushed out of his grip.

“Sam, wait.”

She jutted out a hand, staying him. What she needed was a drink and to be alone. The matter of alcohol was easily remedied when she cornered a waiter, taking from his tray not one, but two flutes of champagne.

As the man turned away, she yelled, “Wait,” and she retrieved another glass.

With three drinks cold against her chest, she made a beeline for the darkest spot in backyard. Finding a tree stump, she sat down. The first drink went down quickly, the second a little slower. By the time she lifted the third glass to her lips, she felt sick.

Had Cathy concocted this whole mess or had Troy been right? The thought made her tip the glass and swallow deeply. How long she sat on the rough stump, she had no idea. Then she heard her name and groaned.

Jennifer.

Moonlight lit upon the concern in her sister’s eyes. “What are you doing out here in the dark?”

Sam pushed to her feet, swaying to the serenade of crickets in the background. “Gathering glasses.” Her sister’s face swam before her and Sam giggled.

“Well stop it. We have a cleaning crew for that.” Her sister took the empty flutes from her hands and placed them on the stump. “You should be dancing and singing—having fun.”

No. She should be hunting Cathy down and choking the truth from the skinny bitch. That is if Sam could stop tottering back and forth.