Samson's Lovely Mortal

“Listen, and just once do what I suggest. Just once. Find that woman again and have sex with her. Get it out of your system. I promise you: once you’ve had her, your body will remember what it was like and go back to normal. Trust me on this.”

“But she’s a mortal. Don’t you understand?” The good doctor couldn’t have forgotten this small detail that easily.

“I fully understand the implications, trust me. I understand the danger she’ll be in.”

“I’m not so sure you do. If I lose control, I could seriously maim her, possibly kill her. In the heat of passion, caution is my least concern. There’s no telling what I’ll do. Bite her? Suck her dry? Kill her?” The very thought was revolting. “After such a long abstinence, how can I be sure I can control my body?”

“What is she to you? Nothing, just a mortal, a human. Take what you need from her, and get on with your life. You need to have sex with her as soon as possible; otherwise, this window of opportunity might close again. Don’t you see? It’s like she was sent to you to help you. Do it, and stop worrying about the consequences. Heck, she might even enjoy it, considering your reputation …” Drake had the audacity to chuckle.

Samson nodded. Maybe he could do that. He knew what he was capable of in bed. He’d always lived up to his reputation. He would be careful, try to be gentle so she would enjoy it. He’d have to make sure of it. That was the least he could do, give her a night of ultimate pleasure, a nice memory. And if his doctor thought it was that simple, maybe it was. For once he had to agree with his shrink. Damn, he wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless, and now he had the doctor’s order to do so.

***

Delilah sank into the warm tub and wished she’d bought bubble bath. She was in the mood for a long, hot soak, and bubbles would have been perfect. Her body ached from the tension. She tried not to think of the thug who’d grabbed her, but instead concentrated on her unlikely rescuer.

She hadn’t really been able to savor his kiss since she’d been too preoccupied with fighting him off. Too late. She’d already screwed it up. With her luck, he would be finding a much more willing participant in the stripper who had obviously been hired for that purpose. Men could be such pigs.

If she hadn’t been such a prude, maybe he would have sent his friends and the stripper packing and … Oh, what was she thinking?

Dreamer. Hopeless romantic.

Gorgeous men like him didn’t exactly fall for boring little auditors like her. And besides, she was a little too starved for some affection. Okay, maybe a lot. So maybe she hadn’t dated a lot lately, okay, maybe not even a little. God, who was she kidding? She hadn’t been with a man in over a year, and even before that she had barely dated.

Why would some man like he even be interested in her? He probably had all kinds of women swooning over him. He looked like the perfect eligible bachelor. Yes, she had noticed that he didn’t wear a wedding band. And he was obviously well off. Living in an old Victorian in Nob Hill with a private chauffeur and limousine to boot just reeked of money, old money. Even as a non-San Franciscan she knew that Nob Hill was a very expensive area.

She’d noticed the elegance of the home with its rich furnishings, the old paintings on the walls, the expensive crystal he had served her brandy in. The bathroom she had changed her clothes in had shown the same elegant style. It appeared he had either bought the house in excellent condition or painstakingly restored every period detail of it.

But the money didn’t even figure into her attraction for him. The man oozed sex appeal from every pore of his body. And she would love to lick it off him, every single drop of it.

Great!

Now she wouldn’t be able to sleep all night. She’d be thinking of Prince Charming. Prince Charming who had kissed her because he thought she was a stripper. Would he even have tried if he’d known she was only some little auditor?

Work. She’d completely forgotten about it. She wanted to look at the files she had remotely sent to her virtual server without John noticing. Reluctantly, Delilah stepped out of the bathtub and dried off. A few hours of computer work would probably make her tired after all so she could get some sleep before she was due back at the office in the morning.

While her laptop booted up, she peeked in the refrigerator. Except for the leftovers of last night’s dinner, it was empty. She popped the carton into the microwave for a couple of minutes.

Delilah logged into her virtual file server and pulled down the files. Long rows and columns of transactions stared at her. This could take a while. She dug into the leftover pasta, eating it straight out of the container.