It didn’t take long to walk from the locker room to where I knew Logan and Sam were waiting. I came up the side stairs, and when I opened the door, I noticed the stadium had cleared out. Going past some offices and conference rooms, I turned and saw them at the end of the hallway. The walkway was huge. Sam and Logan looked like ants compared to the massive posts around them. One of them jerked upright from a wall.
I grinned, waving. It was Sam. Fuck, it’d been too damn long. She broke into a run, and I walked faster. Her eyes were wide, her mouth opened, and there was no hesitation. She threw herself at me. Grabbing a hold of her, I turned and pressed her against the wall. My legs were unsteady, from the game and seeing her, and I needed more balance. Closing my eyes, I pressed a kiss to her forehead and hugged her. She hugged me back.
Home. That’s what Sam was to me.
Moving to her ear, I whispered, “It feels good to hold you again.”
She clasped onto me tighter and wrapped her legs around my waist. When she didn’t respond, I knew she couldn’t. I wanted to kiss her, but she was pressed into my chest and her head went to my shoulder so I stopped thinking and just held her. I’d forgotten how perfectly she fit with me.
I needed time with just her.
Logan had walked closer, but he saw my look and nodded. Reaching behind him, he took his girl’s hand and said something in her ear. When he led her out the door, I knew he had given us some privacy. I wasn’t going to waste any time. Sliding my hands under Sam’s ass, I stood from the wall and her legs tightened in response.
“Mason?”
I turned for one of those conference rooms. Locking the door, hitting the lights off, I pushed her against the wall again. Her legs fell so she was standing on her own, and she gazed up at me in confusion. I cupped the back of her head and slammed my lips down on hers.
Fuck. She tasted good.
Her hands lifted and bunched my shirt collar in her fists. When I started to lift up again, she pulled me back down, taking command. It wasn’t long before my hand was inside her shirt, nudging underneath her bra. I was two seconds from opening her jeans and shoving mine down when I remembered these rooms had cameras.
FUCK!
Ripping my mouth from hers, I rested my forehead against hers. I wanted to be between her legs, feel her body underneath mine, writhing as I moved inside her, slow and steady and harder, as we both forgot where one began and one ended.
She whispered, panting, “Can we please take a separate car from them?” Her hand went to my pants and began kneading the bulge there.
I laughed, turning into her neck. Kissing her, I murmured, “I think we’ll have to. God, I’ve missed you.” I couldn’t stop myself. I lifted her in my arms again, hoisting her high so her legs wrapped back around my waist, so she could look down at me. Her eyes were dark with lust, glazed over from it, and she let out one of those small sighs of frustration.
Her hand lifted, and she ran her fingers through my hair, cupping my cheek. She smiled down at me. I saw the love and warmth, but I paused as I saw more. There was misery and pure agony. Something was wrong and I didn’t think it was just from our separation. I bit my tongue. I wanted to question her, push her buttons so she spilled what was wrong, but that wouldn’t work anymore for us. Sam needed to tell me on her own.
My own pain sliced through me. There was distance between us, physical and emotional. My hand lifted and I rubbed a thumb over her lips, lingering over the bottom. I murmured, “I know something’s wrong.”
She stilled.
I never looked away from her. “I can’t push you to talk anymore, Sam. You have to tell me on your own. This won’t work otherwise.”
A tear formed and, biting her lip, she jerked her head in a nod. Some of her hair fell forward to block her face, and I tucked it behind her ear, my hand lingering there. I began to make circles on her cheek with my thumb. It was a loving gesture, and my god, I loved this girl. Feeling a surge of that emotion go through me, it pushed the pain away. We’d be fine. We’d have to be.
I let her back down to the floor, but kept her in my arms. Resting my chin on the top of her head, her arms slid around my chest, and she burrowed into me again. I asked, “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
I felt her nodding against my shoulder.
This was important. The urgency of it coursed through, me and I tipped her head back up. Our eyes collided and held. “I mean it, Sam. You have to tell me. This shit is work. We both have to put into it. No running.”
“I won’t.” A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she cupped my face in her hands. “I promise. I won’t.”
“What’s wrong?” Because I knew there was something going on. “Is this about your dad?” No… That didn’t feel right. It was something else.
She hesitated.
“Sam.”
She shook her head. “You know me and my family. Terrifying. But no, I just…” She faded and glanced away.
I bit back my words. I wanted to make her tell me, but Matteo’s words stayed with me. His woman smacked him back into place when he faltered. Sam didn’t do that for me. It hurt to acknowledge that. We needed to have that. I hadn’t known how bothered I had been when he said those words, but it did. Sam rarely put me in my place.
“Sam,” I whispered.
“I know. There is something, but I’m not ready to talk about it.” She held my gaze, and I saw she meant what she was saying. She added, “I will tell you, but not yet.”