Surprise Package

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

BlairI checked my reflection in the mirror for the twentieth time and adjusted the straps of my bra underneath the loose, flowy blouse. My coat was strewn over the back of the chair at my desk, lying half on top of the open textbook I’d abandoned yesterday morning.

“Oh, my god, relax,” I said to my reflection in the mirror. My hazel eyes flashed. “He’s your hire. He technically works for you. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter how you look.” But I picked up a tube of mascara from my glitzy makeup bag and brushed the wand through my lashes regardless.

I’d hardly expected the escort to be this… hot. That wasn’t even the word for it.

I put down the mascara tube and squeezed my eyes closed for a minute.

This was a ballsy plan: lying to Mom, and using a man as handsome as Samson to do it. But I was desperate.

I couldn’t stand the thought of becoming like her. Becoming what she wanted of me.

A knock at my door made me suck in a breath. He’s here! Why am I so excited that he’s here?

“Just a minute,” I called, then adjusted my boobs so that a little cleavage showed. Why not, right?

I hurried to the door, my insides squirming, and opened up.

Samson smiled at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up on the left side, and his chocolate brown eyes glinting, liquid. I’d fall into them if I stared too long. His wavy brown hair, shaved on one side and combed over to the other, complemented the growing beard on his jaw.

He wore a plain V-neck shirt, the long sleeves tugging at the armpits and around his biceps. Jeans clung to his thighs, tight not because of the fit but because of what was beneath the dark blue fabric.

My gaze rested on the bulge at the front of his pants, and I flinched it away.

“Hi,” he said. “Somebody order a twelve-inch?”

“That’s not funny,” I replied and took hold of his forearm, thick and encased in cotton. I dragged on it, and he barely budged.

“You going to invite me in?” he asked, looking down at the point of contact.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said and craned my neck. The hall behind him was empty but I didn’t trust that my nosy neighbor, Cara, wouldn’t stick her head out and screech about the disturbance.

Samson turned his arm over in my hand, then slid it upward and took hold of my elbow. He walked me back several steps, kicking the door shut with his heel. “That’s better,” he said. “Now we have some privacy.”

I let go of him, and his grip on my elbow lingered a second, then dropped, too.

“Great,” I said. “You’re right on time. I think it’s important we get started right away. We’ll avoid any confusion that way.”

“Right,” he said and sat down on the edge of my single bed.

I nearly stumbled but kept it together. “Right,” I repeated. “So, like I told you yesterday, my mom wouldn’t want me to drop out. And I don’t want to study law.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“Yeah, I did. Okay, so –” I fumbled for words. Man, it was difficult to think of anything with his melted chocolate gaze tracing the curves of my body. The guy was made for s*x. He was all confidence and smiles, and I was – well, I was me.

My stomach did a flip-flop. I stared at him, my lips parted, and I licked them.

What would it be like? Being with a man like him. Christ, I don’t even have a frame of reference for that question.

“So?” Samson prompted and leaned tan hands on his thighs. “You were going to walk me through how I should behave.”

“Yes. The things you should know. Basic stuff.” I inhaled. “I haven’t written any of this down, so you’ll just have to memorize it.”

“Not a problem.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, you’re not – well, your line of work.”

“You’re assuming I’m dumb because I’m an escort?” Samson asked.

My guts bounced around like a ball on a trampoline. “No.”

“Because, you could say the same thing about yourself in that case. People might call you a jackass for hiring an escort.”

“I’m only doing it so I can do what I really want to do. Look, you don’t understand. I don’t have a choice in the matter. My mother’s the one in control of my life, and I can’t take another second of it. This is my only option.” Those were the words I’d used to convince myself of the fact over and over again.

“I’m not judging you, Blair. I’m pointing out that it’s hypocrisy to assume I’m an i***t because of my line of work.” He spread his palms. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”

My name on his lips – kryptonite.

I nodded once, an imperceptible agreement. “Here’s the deal. We met here at Harvard in one of the coffee shops on campus. You made a joke, I laughed, and we went from there. We’ve been dating for a year and a half, and you really want me to move in with you, but I can’t do it until we’re married.”

“Why?” Samson asked.

“I – my mother knows I wouldn’t live with a man without a commitment first.”

“Why?”

I pressed my lips together. This would’ve been way easier if he wasn’t attractive. But then would my mother have bought it if he’d been just a regular looking dude? Probably not.

“I need all the facts, Blair,” he said.

“I’m giving them to you.”

“Then how would your mother know that? And why don’t you care what your father thinks?”

“I never knew my father. My mom doesn’t even know who he is,” I replied. “And before you get to pitying me, it’s not a big deal, okay? You can’t miss something you’ve never had.” Not entirely true. “So, anyway, we’re engaged. You asked me – uh, I haven’t figured out this part yet.”

Samson rose from the bed and walked over to me, his ankle boots scraping on the roughhewn boards. He stopped in front of me and took hold of my shoulders, gentle pressure that sent shivers racing down my spine.

“I know how I did it,” he said and sucked me into those chocolatey eyes. “It was right after we went to your favorite art gallery. You talked me through all the displays. Explained them to me, since I’m such a dope when it comes to that s**t. And then, I got down one knee and slipped the ring onto your finger.”

I melted into a sloppy mess. Of course, I’d told him I wanted to be an artist. It wasn’t just some weird twist of destiny that he’d picked the best possible method of proposing.

“s**t,” he said. “The ring.” He lifted my left hand and studied my fingers, then brought his lips closer. His breath chased across my skin, and the tiny hairs on my arms stood to attention.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “I have one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I borrowed one from a friend. It’s no big deal.” I’d already stowed Melanie’s ring in my purse. The minute we left for Mom’s house in Syracuse, I’d put it on.

“Good.” Samson released my hand but placed his fingertips against the side of my neck. “What about affection?”

“Huh?”

“In front of your mother,” he continued. “We’re going to have to make her believe it’s real.”

“You can hug me,” I said.

“And touch you.” He leaned in and rested his warm cheek against mine.

I inhaled the scent of his tan skin, the light cologne, black amber and a touch of, what was that, something spicy – cardamom? Whatever it was, it smelled delicious and mingled with his natural aroma perfectly.

His fingers were still on my neck, two hot points against my skin. “Your pulse is racing,” he said and finally moved his hand up and hooked it into my hair. “What would your fiancé do, Blair? Now? What would he do if he had you alone in your room?”

I pictured it while breathing him in.

He’d slip my blouse over my head and reveal the lacy bra I’d chosen this morning. Perhaps he’d slip one cup down, drag the fabric across my n*****s, already puckered for him. And then he’d reach between my legs, slide those thick, seeking fingers down, past the lip of my jeans and into my panties.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Really? Nothing?” Samson pressed his forehead to mine and devoured me with his gaze. His lips inched closer, closer, so achingly close. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing,” I repeated, slipping out of his grasp.

He didn’t hold onto me, but he stiffened a little and light glanced off his brown eyes. He smiled, as easy as every other one had been, and I lowered my gaze to hide my blush. Except, I caught a full-frontal view of the bulge at the front of his pants instead, and my cheeks heated even more.

He was painfully erect. And massive.

I turned my back on him and walked to the window, silently mouthing, “Oh, my god.” I took a minute, staring out at the gentle snowfall that drifted between the buildings and settled on the sidewalk below to calm myself.

“We’ll have to figure out what it is you do for a living,” I said.

“That’s easy,” he replied. “I’m a businessman. Ambiguous. If she asks, I’ll say I’m in hospitality.”

“Funny.” And smart. I allowed a nervous chuckle to pass my lips, then faced him again.

He stood in the exact same spot, a center point in my crappy dorm room, larger than life. “I’m a funny guy,” he said, then checked his watch. “Is there anything else?”

Oh, god, did he have an appointment with another woman? Someone who’d enlisted his services and definitely without the ‘no s*x’ clause?

“Yeah. I’ve got a problem with transportation. My Hyundai is kind of out of commission, so I don’t have a car to get to my mother’s house.”

“And a businessman like me would certainly have one. Don’t worry, the escort service has vehicles for emergency situations just like this. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s perfect.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Blair. I’m looking forward to the weekend.” He didn’t come in close again, though this time, I wanted him to, just to test if I’d be able to resist again, of course.

Samson winked at me, then let himself out of my dorm room, trailing cologne and power.