Poor Laurel. She’s too sweet and innocent to know how to handle a man like Sam. But she’s gonna have to learn and learn quick because he’s got her scent in his nose, and he’s not about to let her get away from him. In this unedited snippet – which picks up where the last one left off – we get a taste of the lengths he’s willing to go to get his way.

Naughty2Sam! She rose, nearly slipping in her rush to get out of the tub. How had he gotten in? What the hell does that matter? He was here now.

“Laurel, open this door. Don’t make me wake up your neighbors.”

She wrapped her soaking hair and threw on her robe, a ratty terry cloth thing she’d had for ages that was never supposed to see company but kept her wonderfully warm. Typical Sam to have her at a complete disadvantage. She nursed this anger as she opened her locks.

He pushed past her immediately.

“What the fuck?”

Good, he was pissed.

“I might say the same thing. It’s kind of late for a visit.”

“Or early, depending on how you look at it, and this isn’t a fucking visit. Why’d you sneak out like that? And why didn’t you answer your fucking phone? I thought you’d been murdered and thrown off that bullshit ass train you like so much.”

She glared at him, irrationally angry that he looked so good when she felt like shit. “I didn’t answer because I didn’t wanna talk.”

“Are you gonna let me in, or do I have to stand in the doorway?”

She glared at him. Then sighed. Jesus she didn’t feel like dealing with this. “Take your shoes off,” she said reluctantly.

“If you don’t want me here I can go.”

“I don’t want you here,” she said baldly. She didn’t. It was a small space, and it was her sanctuary. Before he arrived, it was, or it had been, free of any kind of taint. He would haunt the place forever if he stayed.

He raised a brow.

“Look, I’m sorry I’m being rude. But it’s late. I’m tired. Can’t we just talk later?”

“I wanna sleep with you.”

She reared back, and just like that his ire faded and he laughed. He raised his hands in front of him like he was harmless.

“Jesus, if you could see your face. You’d think I was a rapist the way you’re looking at me. Just sleep; we don’t have to have sex, alright?”

She eyed him, obviously not believing him for a second.

He crossed his heart. “Scouts honor?”

“Were you really a boy scout?”

“For a bit. I dropped out,” he admitted. “I’m not much of a team player.”

No shit.

“Can I stay? Please?”

Laurel shook her head and sighed. She needed her head examined pronto. Only a few minutes ago she’d been thinking how good it felt to be away from him. Now she was relieved he was here. “Shoes.”

She could feel him looking around while she gathered her gown and underwear. She refused to do anything different. He was uninvited. He could damn well take her as she was, granny gown and all.

She went into the bathroom to change, letting the water out of the tub and cleaning her teeth while she hung up her towel and put the little room to rights. She’d slopped water on the floor answering the door.

“I washed up in the kitchen sink,” he told her, looking way too comfortable lying on top of her covers in his blue silk boxers.

She nodded.

“I like your place.”

Bull. And who asked you? “Thanks.”


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