Fearless (The Story of Samantha Smith #1) (35 page)

“Oh, Christos,” I moaned.

He hissed and looked up at me, his face tightened in a feral snarl. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Hot. I want to be deep inside you. Right now.”

I was torn with indecision, and my thoughts took over, blocking out sensation.

I didn’t remember Christos talking like this to Paisley. Admittedly, I’d only spied on them for a minute or so, but he hadn’t sounded so…hungry. Was it just me?

“Samantha, I need you more than I’ve ever needed any woman before. Like you are the only woman who has ever walked this earth, the most feminine, womanly, gorgeous creature that has ever existed. I’m a man starving without food, and you are my sustenance. I’m dying of thirst and your are purest water. I’m suffocating without you. You are oxygen to me, Samantha. Without you, I cannot breathe. I’m going to die if I don’t take you in with every breath I draw.” He inhaled deeply.

His talk of taking me in made me want to take
him
in. Deep. All the way in. Then I would rain all over his manhood, quenching his thirst, igniting his fire.

I jumped at the thought. Oh my god, when did I get so slutty? I stifled a giggle.

“What?” I could hear amusement in his voice.

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” I hung my head to the side so he couldn’t see the smile on my face.

“Nothing you say is ever stupid.” He sounded so earnest.

I looked into his eyes, a warm, inviting smile on my face. “That’s way I luh—” I stopped myself short. My throat caught, and I coughed twice. I had almost said it. Again. Whoops. Can’t go doing that! It was way too soon!

He wasn’t bothered by it. “What?”

“I was going to say, that’s what I
like
about you so much, Christos. Everything you say is like the most supportive, genuine, wonderful thing one person could possibly say to another.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to drop the L-bomb on me.” He grinned, dimples blazing in the pale moonlight.

I dropped my head until it pushed into his chest. I was trying to hide, but there was no place to go. Not that I wanted to escape his hold on me.

“Back to what you were thinking back there, when I was talking all romantically about you being my oxygen. Which I meant, by the way. What were you thinking?”

I twisted my head against him. “Uh uh.”

“You can tell me. I won’t laugh.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“It’s okay, Samantha. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“When you said you wanted to take me in with every breath, I thought that I wanted to take
you
in. Inside.” I couldn’t believe I was saying it. “Into, you know, into me.”

“Ahh. I see. Yeah, no. That’s fine. No complaints from me on that front.” He kissed the top of my head. “Someone’s got a dirty mind.”

I smacked my fist against his chest. “I do not!”
 

“It’s okay. I like dirty just fine.”

Bitch. Slut. Whore.

My brows knit together. “I’m not a slut, Christos.” I sounded more harsh than I intended.

“I know you’re not. When did I ever give you that idea?”

This was going into territory I didn’t want to think about. “Let’s forget it, okay?”

“Hey, look at me.” He lifted my chin with gentle fingers until our eyes met. There was that earnest, caring look again. “Whatever you want to do, Samantha. Remember, talking dirty, thinking dirty, is totally okay. I happen to like it quite a bit.” He grinned.

“Really?”

“Yup. I almost came in my pants when you said you wanted to take me inside. You.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“So uh huh.” He smiled wide.

“I love you, Christos.” Oh shit. The words slipped out, I couldn’t stop myself! I clutched him in my arms as tightly as I could, afraid he’d throw me to the side and run down the mountain like last time. At the same time, I wanted to run away myself.
 

Who had I become in that moment? I hadn’t said the word love to anyone since…
him.
After
him,
I thought I might never say it again. To anyone.

But I just had.

My head was starting to spin. I pulled away from Christos. He wouldn’t let go. I rolled my t-shirt down without bothering to hook my bra.

“Easy, Samantha. Where are you going?”

“I need to go. Now. Let me go!”

“Okay.” He released me.

I swung my legs onto the dirt and ran down the trail. Now the situation was reversed. I was the one running away in total emotional agony.

I jogged down the hill slowly, unsure of my footing in the moonlight. I heard Christos close on my feels. He didn’t try to overtake me.
 

When we reached the street, he ran beside me. This running away thing was becoming a bad habit with us.

“Something’s wrong, Samantha. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Hell no!
I ignored him and kept running. I wanted to get away and jump into a vat of ice cream and eat my way out. Or jump off a cliff. Shit, I should’ve done that when I was up at the hillside bench.

“Talk to me, Samantha.”

Why did he have to be so fucking understanding? Why couldn’t he let me rot away in isolation? Why couldn’t he let my pain chew me to shreds in private? “Go away,” I sobbed.

I was trying to run, but I was crying now, and it was impossible to breathe. A cramp knifed my side and I stumbled to my knees.

Christos was instantly beside me. “You okay?”

I leaned on my hands and sobbed. Tears and snot and drool poured from my mouth.

“I can’t, Christos. I just can’t,” I bawled.

“Can’t what?” he asked softly, a gentle hand on my shoulder blade.

“I can’t be with you. Like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like, you know. With you inside me.”

“That’s okay. Whatever makes you feel safest and most comfortable. Are we going too fast? We sort of jumped into things.”

That wasn’t at all the answer I was expecting. I sat back on my heels. “No, it’s my fault. I wanted it. But I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

“What are you saying? Should we go back to the mentor-manatee thing?”

“Yes. Wait, did you just say manatee?”

“I did.” He grinned.

I started laughing, then crying. “Oh, Christos!” I threw my arms around him. He hugged me tightly. I sobbed for awhile, then calmed. “Are you calling me a sea cow?”

“Yes, I am.” He laughed softly. “You have eight teats and need a milking. But your milk is salty because you drink sea water, so no one buys it. Then Aquaman, the underwater dairy farmer, has to sell you for hamburger meat.”

“What?” I cry-laughed.
 

“It’s all I could think to say. Sorry.” He kissed my cheek gently. “Why don’t we go back to my grandfather’s and have something hot to drink.”

“Okay.”

The next thing I knew, he swooped me into his arms and carried me to the house. It was three blocks. He held me like I was weightless.

After our tea was ready, we crept into the backyard. The view was incredible. Not as breathtaking as the bench, but pretty nice. We cuddled together in a chaise lounge next to Spiridon’s pool. There was a small glass-topped table next to the lounger, where we placed our tea and saucers.

“It’s so funny your grandfather has a pool and he’s like five blocks from the beach.”

“Yeah, he’s got it pretty rough. The benefits of buying in early. He’s been in this house since before I was born.”

“It’s really nice. I’ve never even seen the whole thing. How big is it?”

“I think it’s six bedrooms, give or take a ton of bathrooms, an office, a study, an art library, the studio. But enough of the small talk. What happened back there? I felt your heart go from wide open to locked behind a bank vault.”

“How can you feel my heart?”

“I don’t know, I just can.”

“Do you feel the hearts of all the women you’ve been with?”

“Now that you put it that way, I can tell you exactly why I know when you’re heart is opened or closed.”

“How?”

“Because I’ve never felt it before.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re telling me none of the many women you’ve slept with had open hearts?”

“If they did, I never noticed. But yours is wide open with me. I can’t not feel it. It’s like an earthquake every time you open up. So what closed it down tonight?”

I leaned over and picked up my tea, stalling.

“Like I said before,” he encouraged, “you can tell me anything. Get it out, let it go. As long as you hold it in secret, it gnaws at you. I know.”

I wanted to believe him. But I feared that if I told Christos the truth, he would judge me. Push me away and end our relationship on every level, even the mentoring. Why wouldn’t he?
 

Once he knew how terrible I was beneath my suburban college student, accounting major exterior, he would be horrified. Because I was horrified. Of
myself.
 

I was scum, for what I did.

If Christos thought he had hidden shit, he had no idea. My guilt and shame had been killing me slowly for over two years.

I searched my brain for a worthy change of subject. “Hey, what was that word you called me before dinner? When you said it, your grandfather looked like he’d seen a ghost or something.”

“Maybe he had.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. What was the word?”

“It was two words. Agápi mou.”

“So what’s it mean? Why’s it such a big deal?”

“It means ‘my love.’ I haven’t said the word love in over a decade. And my grandfather knows it.”

Huh?
Processing, 404 not found. Web page does not exist.
What the hell? Did that mean he had called me his love two hours ago? He had snuck it under the radar! “Hey! You tricked me! Here I am, freaking out that I blurted out the L-word, and you already said it! No fair!”

He chuckled and hugged me affectionately. “Is that a problem?”

“No, but, I mean, what the hell! You could’ve let me off the hook a bit sooner!” I was pretend mad.

“Sorry,” he grinned.

“So why haven’t you said the word love in so long?”

“That’s another story. You need to tell me yours. About Taylor.”

The fact Christos had secretly called me his love gave me courage. I prepared to drop my bomb. I hoped it wouldn’t obliterate my growing relationship with this amazing man.

The only person who knew the whole story about Taylor was
Him.
I was about to cross a line I never thought I would.

I took a heavy breath. It hitched spasmodically when I released it. “No. This story is about Damian.”

“Who’s Damian?”

“A terrible person. A mistake. Let me begin at the beginning.” I sipped my tea and nestled into Christos’ arms.
 

I was going to need all the support and cuddling I could get if I was going to tell this story for the first time. To the man I’d said “I love you” to less than thirty minutes prior.
 

The man who called me
his
love.
 

OMG, I was so confused in that moment.

“Damian Wolfram was the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” I said quietly.

“When I was a sophomore in high school, I fell in love with Damian, a senior. He was easily the hottest guy in our school. All the girls were in love with Damian. He was smooth, popular, rich, and captain of the lacrosse team. His parents were loaded, and being with Damian meant country club access and high society on the arm of a total hottie. What teenaged girl didn’t dream of such things?

“If I’d known better, or been more mature, I might have realized Damian wasn’t the golden boy he portrayed. He had a dark side. But I ignored it. I lied to myself and told myself that his short temper was okay. It was sexy. Every girl likes a brooding bad boy, right?”

I grinned at Christos.

“Bad boys are not all created equal,” he replied confidently.

“That’s for sure.” I sipped my tea and continued.

“In the beginning of our relationship, I turned a blind eye every time Damian got angry. There was a thrill to talking him down when he was mad. It was like I could control him. I could tame him. It gave me a sense of power. I thought I was the only person who could soothe this big, muscly guy who was super dangerous when no one else could. I thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.

“I can’t remember how many times I stopped him from jumping into a fight by kissing him or holding onto him. I thought I could control him. But that was a fantasy.

“I couldn’t control him. Unless I ignored my own feelings, and blocked out the fact that his behavior horrified me.
 

“Damian was a terrible person. A bully. Not the kind of friend I would ever want. But I told myself he was the kind of lover that
every
girl wanted. And he wanted me. I was high on his craziness. But I came to realize he wasn’t crazy. He was selfish. He was spiteful, and he was terrible.”

I turned and gazed at Christos’ magical blue eyes. I placed my palm on his cheek. “When I met you, Christos, I thought you were just like Damian. I was afraid that you would be a total womanizing asshole. But you’re not. You’re different. There’s a gentleness in you. Every time I’ve seen you get violent, it was to protect me. But you never provoke anyone, you never start anything. You just finish it.”

“I was protecting
you
.”

I felt a tremendous sense of pride well up in my chest. I wiped a tear from my eyes and sniffled. “You are a good man, Christos. I’m so lucky.”

“Me too,” he whispered.

“The night I started to see through Damian’s facade was the night I had planned on losing my virginity to him. But I didn’t lose it that night. That night, he took something far worse. He took my innocence. Because I let him. I didn’t have the courage to stop it.

“We had been dating for six months at that point. Damian had been pressuring me to have sex for awhile. I never told him I wanted to wait because I didn’t want him to know I was a virgin, but he figured it out on his own. We made out plenty, but I had to stop things from going further so many times, it was obvious.
 

“The thing is, Damian wasn’t my first boyfriend. I’d made out with other guys before. I was sixteen.