Page 35 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
“Unlikely,” he grunted back. His voice was deeper than I’d imagined, low and rumbly like distant thunder.
“But not impossible?”
Evan just gave me a dead-eyed stare and went back to scouring the surrounding streets, as Sampson came over and slid back into the car. He was typing something into his phone, and waved his fingers to Evan, indicating we should go.
“So?” Jesus, way to draw out the suspense. “Enough with the cliffhanger already.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “It closed three months ago. I’ll have my assistant track down the owner to get us in there. Stop stressing. Let’s go back to the hotel, get the guys up to speed on everything, and then sleep off this fucking jet lag.”
He went back to his phone and I tried not to pout. He was such an asshole, but I trusted him when he said he’d take care of it. And I was kind of tired, despite the fact I’d slept nearly the whole flight. The last couple of days had been a lot, physically and emotionally.
The traffic was unusually light on the way back to the hotel, so in barely any time at all, Sampson was guiding me to the private elevator that led to the penthouse, his hand resting possessively on the curve of my spine.
“You seem like an honest kind of guy, Sampson. Do you think what I’m doing is crazy?”
He looked down at me, and snared me in his irises. His dark eyes were actually hazel, the outer rim of his iris dark brown and the inner rim vibrant green. They were mesmerizing, and I tried to avoid meeting his gaze for that very reason.
“Yes.”
My body sagged. He was only confirming the little nagging voice in the back of my mind, but Hendrick hadn’t cared, and Otto was a classic enabler. Sampson wasn’t the kind of person to sugar-coat things—I’d only known him for days and I knew that with absolute certainty.
“I don’t think it matters though. I think going back to college and pretending the last three months had just been a phase would also be crazy. At least you have a purpose, something to inspire passion. People have done shit for stupider reasons.”
We stepped out of the elevator and Sampson opened the penthouse door. I stepped through and my feet immediately locked like I was stuck in quicksand.
Otto was fucking Hendrick against the windows.
My brain scrambled to comprehend what I should do as I watched the snap of Otto’s hips and Hendrick’s low moan as he came all over the glass.
Sampson plowed into my back and cursed. “Seriously? Three goddamn bedrooms and you guys have to fuck in the living room?”
Otto looked over at me, his eyes flared in panic, while Hendrick laughed. Sampson grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the suite and back toward the elevator, slamming the door with an unnecessary bang. He stabbed the ground floor button, while I blinked dazedly.
Sampson frowned at me. “What? You knew they fucked.”
I did. I did know that. I just don’t think I was prepared for how I’d feel if I saw it.
Sampson went rigid beside me, and I realized I’d spoken out loud. “How do you feel?”
His tone was short and terse, like he was waiting for me to say disgusted or appalled. But I felt neither of those things. I felt…
I looked up at him, and his face morphed. A smirk curled his lips. “Oh.” He ran a hand down my spine, and I shivered. “It made you feel… hot?” He leaned closer. “Did it make you feel wet and needy, Good Girl, watching Otto fuck Hendrick?” He hit the stop button on the elevator. “If I reach under this skirt, will your panties be soaked from seeing them fuck?”
“Yes.” The answer was yes. I was soaked, my gut was churning with lust, and I wanted Sampson to find out for himself if I was wet.
He slid his hand further down my spine and over my ass. His other hand bent me over a little so he could stroke his fingertips over my core to see for himself.
“Mmm, yes you are.”
Then he pressed the emergency stop button again and the elevator jolted back to life, the doors opening all too soon onto a busy lobby. “Want to do some touristy shit?”
No. I wanted to find a dark corner and get him to fuck me into next week. I wanted to climb back into that elevator, walk back into that suite, and insist Otto and Hendrick go for round two.
Instead, I said, “I’d like to see Buckingham Palace.”
We waited for Evan in the lobby, and he looked a little pissed to be back on the job so soon, but if he was, he kept it to himself. He got the hire car and we pulled away from the curb. Really, all I wanted was a long shower and a nap, but if I couldn’t do that, I was happy to see London too. I was in London! I still couldn’t believe it.
“Hendrick arranged us a table at Nobu for tonight, so we won’t be able to do much sightseeing,” Sampson said, not looking up from his phone. You wouldn’t know that those same fingers tapping his phone had been between my thighs ten minutes ago. My face flushed at the memory, and once again, I tried to get my head back in the game.
