Shameless (25 page)

“I don’t remember, Bri, but I’d sure love for Johnny here to tell me all about it. I’ll be all ears.” She giggled, but it came out more like a snort.

The rest of the visit had been equally unproductive. By the time John was safely back in his car, he was cursing under his breath, his pent-up frustration taking a toll on his mental state.

The poor kid. John knew all too well what it was like to have parents who didn’t have a clue or give a damn about what was going on in your life. Brian was probably holed up in his bedroom right now wishing he wasn’t too old to cry, wishing he lived anywhere else but where he did.

His hands clenched the steering wheel as he sped toward Sam’s. He knew seeing her would ease the tension inside him, bring a more pleasant end to what had turned out to be a crappy afternoon. Just the thought of her made him feel a little better. She was like a breath of fresh air in his crazy life. Working with these kids was rewarding and he wouldn’t change a thing about that, but it was also damn stressful and damn frustrating. Sam was just the prescription he needed right now. He couldn’t wait to see her.

He whipped into her parking lot and killed the engine. Sam answered the door on his first knock. “You should have asked who it was,” he barked. “You need a peephole.”

She held the doorknob with one hand and placed the other on her hip. “Nice to see you, too.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth, then headed into the tiny kitchen. His gaze followed her, drinking in the luscious view of her backside. She wore faded Levi’s, a fluffy pink sweater, and her feet were bare. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail. She looked young, relaxed, and delectable. A deadly combination for his stressed-out state of mind.

“I was just about to open a bottle of wine,” she said over her shoulder.

He’d told himself on the drive over here they didn’t need to jump immediately into the sack tonight, that what he really needed was to talk to her, to have her listen to his trials with these kids, with Brian in particular. Sam was an incredible listener; she seemed to know instinctively when to offer her opinion and when to just keep silent. On the drive over, he’d really looked forward to relaxing in her presence, but damn. The way she looked tonight killed him. Absolutely killed him. He wanted her. Now.

She turned around with wine bottle in hand. “John, do you want—?” He cut off the rest of her question with a searing kiss, yanking her body hard against his. With his free hand, he grabbed the wine and set it on the counter.

“Feeling frisky, are we?” she murmured against his mouth as he backed her against the counter. He lifted her onto the countertop and positioned himself between her legs, rubbing his straining erection against her.

He heard her soft little gasps of pleasure at his mouth. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. He might have told himself they wouldn’t jump right into bed, but his internal conversation hadn’t said anything about the kitchen counter. Besides, he and Sam were having a mutually agreed upon affair, not a relationship. And affairs were all about sex, weren’t they?

Their hands were all over each other, exploring, caressing, arousing. He fumbled with his belt buckle and then his fly. She did the same for herself. Then, as she wriggled her hips to help, he pulled off her jeans and panties. Her clothes caught around her ankles but he didn’t take the time to remove them. He had to be inside her now. She obviously felt the same urgency as she thrust her hand inside his briefs and grasped hold of his penis. His stomach muscles tensed at the contact and he grew even harder. With her other hand she nudged his briefs over his butt until his erection sprang free.

He scooted her body closer to the edge of the counter, and, staring directly into her eyes, plunged into her. She seemed to want it that way, no foreplay, no gentle caressing. She gripped his shoulders, her dark eyes widening with the first thrust. His hands cupped her bottom, jerking her close every time he buried himself deeper into her hot, wet sheath.

Deeper, harder, faster. Over. And over. And over. His climax built quickly. From the frantic little gasps between her parted lips and the way her thighs clenched like a vise against his waist, he knew she was close, too. He reached between them and rubbed her swollen nub. She cried out her pleasure and her head fell back. As her body tightened all around him, he reached his orgasm, spilling his seed into her and grunting at the explosive sensations.

They were motionless for a few minutes after that. Both breathed heavily. Her head lolled back, revealing a gleam of perspiration along the slender column of her throat. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers just beneath her ponytail, and gently lifted until her face was level with his. Her gaze was heavy-lidded, her expression sated.

A tiny grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Use me and abuse me,” she said huskily.

He immediately felt contrite for taking out his mood on her like that. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I—”

“No apologies, big guy.” She leaned forward and kissed him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. “It was fun.”

Still inside her, he pulled her close, caressing the nape of her neck, just enjoying the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her hair, the sated and satisfied feeling of having just made love to her. He let out a long breath.

“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked softly.

He pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes, seeing her concern and feeling an answering twist deep inside his gut. A trickle of sweat dripped down his temple. He lifted his arm and wiped it away with his shirt sleeve, his head turning with the movement. He froze. “What the hell is
that
?”

She followed the direction of his gaze. “That’s Wayne. Isn’t he ugly?”

“Sam, that’s a rat.”

She wriggled her hips until he was out of her. She jumped off the counter and bent over to pull up her jeans. “Of course he’s a rat. I named him after my ex-husband.”

Zipping his pants, he walked the few steps to the cage sitting upon a rickety-looking TV tray at the end of the kitchen. The homely creature had scruffy white fur, most of it rubbed off, and beady red eyes. “You didn’t have this last time I was here. I would have remembered.”

“Nope.” She tapped the glass, scaring the pathetic creature into the far corner of its cage. “Just got the little beast today.”

“Why?” He had nothing against rodents, he just couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly purchase one.

“I had him delivered to my ex this morning, as a gift of my undying affection. Then this afternoon, he had the nerve to send the darn thing back.” She covered her heart with her hand. “Is that rude or what? Not only did he not say ‘thank you’ for the gift, he returned it.”

“And the reason you sent him a rat is because…?”

“As retaliation for the psycho fish he sent me for Christmas.”

“Rhett and Scarlett?”

She nodded. “He gave them to me together in the same bowl. I’d always thought — as you told me — that fighting fish shouldn’t be together, but since they already were…” She shrugged. “Rhett was dead by morning. I think that was Wayne’s intent.”

“Do you and your ex still have a thing for each other or something?” A feeling awfully darn close to jealousy rumbled inside him.

Sam burst out laughing and punched him in the arm. “God, no. Wayne’s a slime.” She reached for the wine bottle and plunged a corkscrew into the top.

“So what happened?”

The cork came out with a POP. “What happened was I realized he was a slime.”

“He cheated on you?”

She nodded. “With his camera woman. I got out of class early one day and caught the two of them going at it on our bed.”

“Christ, Sam. I’m sorry. What a jerk.”

“Yeah.” She poured two glasses. “Do you watch Channel 2 News?”

“Occasionally. Why?”

“Then you’ve probably seen him.”

John blinked a couple of times, then awareness dawned. “Wait. The sports announcer, Wayne, uh, uh, Metzger.
He’s
the man we’re talking about here?”

“Don’t use the term so loosely.”

“What term?”

“‘Man.’”

John recalled Metzger’s image, seeing the cheap hairpiece, lined face, perfect white teeth that were obviously capped, and a body that appeared to be past its prime. What on earth had Sam seen in him? “He must be twenty years older than you.”

“Twenty-three.”

He tried to picture the two of them together. “I don’t get it. His toupee looks like roadkill.”

“It was a long time ago.” She handed him his wine. “He wasn’t so bad to look at back then. I thought he was the mature, older man.” Her voice held traces of mock awe. “The big-wig sportscaster on Channel 10 — that’s where he worked at the time. I was dating a guy on TV. Wow. My girlfriends were jealous.”

“How did you meet him?” Although he and Sam had had some great conversations this past week, they hadn’t spoken of past relationships. It was like there was an unspoken rule between them. But if she was willing to divulge a little, he certainly wouldn’t stop her.

“I interned for him my sophomore year in college.” She headed into the living room and dropped onto the couch.

He followed and sat beside her. “How long were you together?”

“Eight years.” She leaned back against the armrest and propped her legs over his thighs.

“Did he cheat on you the whole time?”

She sipped her wine. “To his credit, I don’t think so. It was only after I was no longer the perfect little chickee babe that he strayed.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“After my parents divorced, my mom moved in with us for a while because she couldn’t hold it together. Her depression rubbed off on me I guess, so I started eating. And eating.” She gave him a wry grin then lifted the wine to her lips. “Anyway, I ended up gaining quite a bit of weight.” She made a face over her glass.

John tried to picture her with a plumper figure and couldn’t do it. He’d assumed she’d been “perfect” all her life. Somehow, that knowledge made him feel closer to her. Both of them had had their ugly duckling days. Both knew what it was like to be less fortunate in the looks department.

“I knew it bothered Wayne, because he’d sort of glare at me if I ever ate anything other than a plain salad. And he kept buying me Barbie doll-sized lingerie, as if that would motivate me to slim down again.”

“Not the sensitive type, eh?”

“Uh, no. Anyway, it was around that time I caught him doing the mamba wamba with Wendy Anthony, the little tramp. I, of course, went ballistic. But Wayne was so self-righteous, like he had the right to go after a slimmer model. He actually had the gall to tell me to look him up once I got my life together and my figure back.”

“Christ,” he muttered. No wonder men were at the bottom of her totem pole.

She giggled and shot him a sly look out of the corner of her eye. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when I waltzed into his office a few months later in my size four jeans and stilettos.”

He had to chuckle at the thought. “He wanted you back, didn’t he?”

“Damn straight he wanted me back. Thought I’d throw myself at his feet or something, the jerk.”

“Metzger must be quite a guy if he could end a marriage because of a weight problem.”

“No kidding.”

“And now you just send him rats.”

“Yep. And, of course, I get back at him professionally, out-scooping him on the hot stories whenever I can. Remember the big story about Darwin Tooch in February?” John nodded. “That really chapped Wayne’s ugly hide when I got the story first.”

“Remind me never to break your heart, beautiful. Because I’m not really a rodent person.”

She smiled and snuggled up to him again. “That’s the beauty of our relationship, John. Our hearts are safe.”

Unexpected disappointment welled inside him. He knew their relationship was only temporary and risk-free — that’s what they both wanted. Still, he didn’t like hearing her say it.

He swung her legs off his and stood. “More wine?”

She nodded and he headed to the kitchen. Pouring the wine, he glanced at the ugly rat huddled in the corner of its glass cage, and grimaced. He took the glasses to the living room and set them on the coffee table.

She climbed into his lap and put her arms around his waist. He dipped his head. Their kiss was slow and leisurely, neither of them needing anything more at the moment, both still sated from their recent tryst. When it was over, he nodded his head toward the kitchen. “You’re not going to keep it, are you?”

She shrugged. “If I return him to the pet store, they said he’d likely be snake food. Now as much as I’d like to see big Wayne get the life squeezed out of him and swallowed whole, little Wayne doesn’t deserve such a fate. Even though he’s uglier than sin.” She shrugged again. “I might be stuck with him.”

After finishing the wine, they cuddled together in silence for a while. John’s arm was around her and her head rested on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to go off on that tangent about my marriage to Wayne,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“I didn’t mind.”

“But something was troubling you when you got here and then I go babbling on about myself when you obviously needed to talk.” She cocked her head to peer at him. “Bad day?”

He dropped a kiss onto her nose. “Ended that way.” He told her about his visit to Brian’s house. As he spoke and she listened, her gaze intent on his, he thought again how easy it was to talk to her. How pleased he was that she’d shared some of her past with him. And he realized he wanted her to know more about
his
past, to understand the real John Everest, good things and bad.

Of course, that meant bringing up the accident. With things going so well between them right now, temporary affair or not, he didn’t know he was ready to tell her. Because she wouldn’t be pleased. She’d probably hate him.

She’d hated him when they’d first met, but that was before they’d gotten to know each other. Before they’d become friends.

Before he’d cared.

Chapter 13