Out of Her Dreams

Chapter Thirteen

Phyllis finished reading the rough draft of the final novel in the series and she turned her eyes to Sam’s face. “You have made him so damn real, I almost orgasmed reading this. I am amazed that this only took you nine weeks. You’ve been like a woman possessed.” She sat up and packed the pages back into the manuscript container. Her eyes slid over Sam’s slender body hunched by the window.

“What are you going to do about him?” Her voice was quiet. “I can’t keep putting him off. Sooner or later he’s going to come flying through my door with a battering ram looking to drag you back home. He’s almost a nutcase over you just up and disappearing like that. Anyone can tell he’s crazy over you.”

Sam shrugged, looking out the window of her apartment at the traffic several floors below. Snowball wound his body around her ankles, plaintively asking for the attention that she seldom seemed capable of giving him nowadays. She relented and bent to scoop him from the floor, hugging him to her as he purred contentedly.

She met Phyllis’ gaze and said quietly, “I realized that I had to back away from the dream to make it a reality in print. I had no choice.” She bent to kiss Snowball’s satiny nose. “I genuinely don’t think I’m going to be able to write that screenplay, Phyl. It will mean working with him too closely. I can’t do that.”

“I think he deserves an explanation of why you took off, Sam. Give the man a chance, for God’s sake. Shit. Most women would be running back as fast as their little feet could carry them. He wants you back.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. He got everything from me that he wanted. By now he should be as happy as a clam. He has a fat contract to make the first two movies from the series and he’s in negotiations for the rest. My life is my own again. I can actually do things on my own without having him constantly hanging on me. Constantly wanting me in bed.” She swallowed hard.

Phyllis shook her head and put the manuscript down. “You never were a good liar, Sam. You are crazy in love with him. Oh, why the hell won’t you just admit it and go see him again? He’s called nearly every day for the past two months. He only stopped when you told him to leave you alone.” The woman gave a sound of disgust. “If that man wanted me-”

Sam closed her eyes and raised her hand. “Go get him, with my compliments. He is overwhelmingly possessive and unfailingly horny. You will love it for the first little while but after a few months, it wears sort of thin!” Liar!

Phyllis glared at her star writer. “My God, girl. You are the most stubborn, bullheaded, asinine female ever to draw breath!” She reached for her coat and purse and walked to the door. “I’ll send Carl over to pick up the finished draft. And as for the script and the screenplay, you are under no obligation to write it. They only asked you to do it. We haven’t contracted you.”

Sam stared out the window at the traffic far below.

Snowball meowed again. She glanced at him and frowned.

“Not you too? Does everyone but me think he’s the greatest thing since the powdered sugar donut?”

The cat glared at her indignantly and gave a low yowl of irritation.

“I don’t need this from you, as well as from her. If you want to take his side, I’ll gladly ship you off to him in Chicago. I thought you hated him.”

The cat wriggled out of her grasp and hit the floor at a run, leaving her staring after him. “Okay, just be that way. See if I buy you that canned stuff you like so well. It’s dry food for you, you little fur-ball turncoat.”

She sank down onto the armchair beside her and rested her head in her hands. Things were just too damn complicated. After that last night with David, she had put herself on a flight back to Chicago, where she had made arrangements to return to her own apartment in Cleveland. By the time he had returned from the New York trip, she was gone. Completely. Moved-Left-No-Address.

She had written him a long letter. Had left it on his pillow. She grimaced in pain at the thought. She had told him that she couldn’t write while she was with him. That she needed her space. That she didn’t want to hurt him but she just couldn’t stand the sort of relationship he expected of her. She had offered to pay him whatever he wanted to end the sham of their “arrangement”. She had no intention of coming back. Ever. He should not bother to try to find her. She simply wanted to be her own person once again.

The only things she had taken with her were a pair of earrings he had given her and the clothes she had brought from Cleveland. All the other things he had bought for her were left in Chicago.

She had changed her phone to an unlisted number but he had Phyllis’, so he had called her business manager constantly. Threatened. Cajoled. But Phyl, bless her soul, had simply told him she would pass along the messages. She had never given him her address.

The apartment was not under her current legal name. She had leased it under the name Samantha Drake. Drake had been her stepfather’s name. She hadn’t legally changed her name back to Hastings until she had begun writing the series.

He would never find her unless she wanted to be found and, right at the moment, she didn’t.

“What are we gonna do, sweetie?” She rubbed her face with numb hands and shook her head. “I hoped he would learn to love me. He was only interested in a thrilling bed partner. Hell, I shouldn’t be telling you all this. You’re way too young to have to deal with man-woman problems.” She lifted her eyes to see Snowball yawning at her from across the room.

The cat sauntered slowly across the carpet to leap lightly onto her knees and settle down in her lap, purring loudly. Sam smiled at him and rubbed his ears. “Sorry about being nasty, sweetie. I just miss him so damn much.”

The cat gave a capacious yawn and licked his fur carefully. A moment later, he was licking her hand and purring even more loudly. She grinned at him and said softly, “You always know how to talk me out of the doldrums, sweetie.”

But now she had to figure out how to get her life back on track. Alone. Without some sex-crazed hunk dragging her into bed every time she turned around. Damn. She clenched her fists to keep from reaching for the frigging phone for the twentieth time today. What a wuss. Why the hell was it so damn hard to get through a day without a man fix? She felt like a recovering addict.

But recovering from an addiction to David Chance was not going to be easy. He ran through her thoughts and dreams every time she closed her eyes or tried to sleep. At times she could almost feel his lips on her skin, his hands on her body. She would drop off to sleep and come awake a few hours later after having had the most amazingly sensuous dreams-wild, orgasmic dreams that made her crazy to just hear the sound of his voice again. Even after over two months, she could still remember the scent of his flesh, the feel of his smooth, hot skin sliding against hers as he made love to her.

She shook herself back to reality and bit her lip. No. She had to get him out of her system. Out of her dreams.

Fat chance of that.

“When the hell are you gonna just go up there and drag her ass back here?” Victor Mulvayne frowned at him from across the room as he poured himself a large brandy.

“I don’t think she wants to come back. I pretty well blew it.” David’s dark eyes were on the gas log in the large fireplace.

“Have you even talked to her?”

“She changed her cell number. I never knew her address, only that she lives in Cleveland. Can’t find any record of her renting or buying anywhere in Cleveland. Believe me, I’ve had a man looking for her since she left.” His teeth were clenched. “She won’t even answer the fucking phone when her business manager hands it to her. Except once. She told me to take a flying leap and to leave her the fuck alone.” His frown was introspective.

Yvonne turned to him from the window and sauntered over to the side of his chair, placing her long-nailed hand on his shoulder. “You have absolutely got to be the biggest jackass I’ve ever met, except for Vic.”

David jerked his eyes to her face in confusion. “What the hell did I do now?”

She shook her head and exhaled loudly. “Can you draw this asshole a picture, Vic? He is blind and stupid, all rolled up into one!”

David glanced in irritation at Victor and was about to ask what the hell his wife was talking about but Vic cut off his question with a raised hand.

“Y’s right, Chance. We’ve been wanting to talk to you but the schedule’s been so damn hectic and you have been in such a fucking black mood, nobody dared try. It’s been almost three months since she took off and you’ve been wandering around like a grizzly bear with an ingrown toenail. What the hell is wrong with you? You never took no for an answer from anyone else. Why start now? Find her. Break down her business manager’s fucking door and strangle her ’til she tells you what you need to know!” He glared at David.

“She left because she didn’t want to be around me, dammit. She hates my fucking guts!” He took a swallow of his drink.

Vic shook his head and groaned. “Anybody with any brains in their damn thick skull could have told you that Sam Hastings was so gone over you, she could barely think straight when you were turning on that goddamn charm.”

David glared at him malevolently. “What the hell do you know about it? If she was ‘gone’ over me, I would have known it, wouldn’t I?”

Yvonne threw up her hands and gave a strangled little sound of disgust. “Does a goddamn brick have to hit you in that thick skull of yours before you recognize when a woman is in love? Or is it that you just couldn’t love her back? Was that it? So you didn’t bother to follow her and make things right for her?” She almost snarled at him. “Did you even think to offer her marriage?”

David’s eyes widened at her words. He’d offered her himself! Wasn’t that the same fucking thing? Did their Memorandum of Understanding not make her realize he needed her? Wanted her? Yvonne’s angry voice intruded in his thoughts.

“She was willing to jump into a ring and physically attack a man four times her size when she thought you were in danger, you fucking jerk. Didn’t that ring any bells in your fucking head? And whenever you started to make a total jackass of yourself, she always stepped in and turned you back into a human being again.”

She shook her head and stared at him like he was a bug on her carpet. “When I think of all the things that girl did to make you know she adored you, I get sick to my stomach. I have no idea why she ever agreed to live with you, Chance, but you tossed away the most precious thing that ever happened to you and you have nobody to blame but yourself, so pull your head out of your fucking ass and start using it!”

David stared up into her angry face and he was about to deliver a blistering set down, when Sam’s soft voice whispered in the back of his thoughts. I’d much rather manipulate you than let that black temper of yours spoil a good working relationship.

He drew a deep breath and swallowed his anger. Love him? Did Sam really love him? He rose from the chair and stared at his friend’s angry face. “Yvonne, has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” And he caught the back of her head and kissed her quickly, startling her.

“I’d start by walking into her business manager’s office and busting heads until they cough her up. It shouldn’t be that much trouble.” Her eyes were a brilliant ice blue. “And if she doesn’t want to come back, get on your goddamn hands and knees and promise her the earth if you have to.”

He placed his empty glass on the coaster and left without another word. The truth in what they had told him hit him in the gut like a fist. He had known she wanted him. That she loved what he did for her in bed. But he had not noticed the other things she seemed to love about him. The way she humored him when he was pissed off and the way she always made him forget to be angry when tensions rose. The way she stood up for him against the press when they made comments she didn’t like. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. The light that came into her green eyes when she saw him after even a short absence. The way she got pissed off at him when he came home battered and the way she gently cared for his cuts and bruises.

She didn’t hate him. So there was hope.

He flagged down a passing taxi and climbed inside, giving his address. The driver watched him for a while until he looked up and met the brown eyes in the rear view mirror. The man waited for him to acknowledge him with a nod and then he said in heavily accented English, “I have not seen your little woman for a long time on the television. She is not ill, I hope. My wife and me, we watch because she is so brave and so pretty. My daughter wants to be just like her someday.”

David drew a deep breath. “I don’t know where she is but I intend to remedy that damn soon.”

“That is the spirit, Mr. Braza. You cannot let her run away from you again. If she was mine, I would find her if I had to go to the ends of the earth.” Then he cleared his throat and said more softly, “But do not tell my wife I said that. She will be very jealous.”

David grinned at him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t breathe a word.”

He sank back into the seat and exhaled heavily. He wondered if he had completely botched the deal by not trying harder to find her. He had told her that he would give her some room, some space. But he had also told her that he would never let her go.

And he had done exactly that.

He had waited for her to come back to him, thinking that after she had her freedom for a while, she would find that she needed him as desperately as he needed her. Would miss him. But he hadn’t counted on that damn pride of hers.

She hadn’t come back. And when he had tried to talk to her, she had refused his calls. The one time Phyllis had managed to get her on the phone, she had been cool and polite but her voice had held none of the delightful depth that it held when she had been with him those wonderful months. It had felt as if he was talking to a stranger. A cold, distant, annoyed stranger.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as remembered once again that he had often wondered if she had just wanted him for the sex. She had never lied to him about the way he affected her. She had also never told him that she wanted more from him than sex alone. She had never said she cared about him. Even after he had begun to question if sex was enough and why he wanted her to admit she wanted more, she had never admitted anything beyond their amazingly sensual bond. But then, he’d never told her how he felt either.

During the past three months, he had been the old, nasty, vicious Chance Braza, terrorizing his fellow wrestlers and behaving in real life like the bastard he’d always pretended to be in the ring. He had reverted to his angry, unrelenting persona with a vengeance, drawing even more notoriety as he had worked his way through a dozen challengers, without allowing anyone a fighting chance to take his championship belt from him. Not after he had told her he’d won it for her. Not after he had shown the world he wanted her and had laid his soul at her damn feet. He had completely ignored his contract and the number of fights he was supposed to let others win to bolster their images. Nobody wanted to get into that ring with him now. Not even the Wolfman.

But what had he given her, besides the constant sexual satisfaction she seemed to crave from him? He thought of the many times they had lain in each other’s arms after making love and although he had wanted to tell her that she was more than just someone to enjoy in his bed, he had not uttered the words. There had been times when he had felt that she expected something more from him. But he had let those times pass. What had he expected from her? He clenched his teeth and swore silently at himself. Fucking idiot!

He had expected her to give up her own existence to serve his needs and wants. He had expected her to leave her home and move in with him. Would another woman have been so willing to give up everything to suit his needs? She had left an independent, self-sufficient life to save a friend from financial ruin. She had agreed to be his personal plaything to make up what she thought was a wrong she had certainly not committed.

And he had let her. He had used her. He was a selfish prick.

He was missing. Something more than her presence in his bed. More than her warmth in the night. More than the way she made him feel like he was Superman incarnate. God, yes.

He groaned softly deep in his throat and closed his eyes. Had he fallen in love with her? He knew the answer to that question without having to think it over. He had fallen under her spell.

He wanted her. His woman. His.

He drew a deep breath. She was still his. And if she thought she could simply dump his ass like some second-rate jerk, she had another think coming.

Sam drew a slow breath, stretching in the chair to ease the muscle cramp that had interrupted her writing. Her hands went to the tight knot in her back and she frowned. Sitting for hours at the keyboard was a royal pain in the ass. As well as the back.

Snowball meowed at her from where he sat on her lap, cleaning his rear half, and she grinned at him. “I appreciate the encouragement, sweetie, but I think I’m about done here. Have to stop sitting like a damn lump and start taking walks again. Maybe get out my old Pilates tapes. Huh? That sound like fun?” Oh sure.

She reached for the keyboard and attempted to type again, then sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes. She was once again at a mental roadblock.

It wasn’t as easy to write a screenplay as it was to write a book. She had gotten some very good software that helped her edit and cut out extraneous material that could never be truly useful in a film or play but she had been forced to cut so much out, it didn’t really make sense to her anymore. She had cut a novel from a thirty-hour read to a three-hour skeleton of what the story was about. It made no sense whatsoever. And still more had to be pared to fit.

She drew a shaking breath and shoved the keyboard away. “Sorry, Snowball, but I have to get up and walk around. And I need food.” She put the cat on the floor and stood, stretching wearily. Her stomach growled. Just as she started into the kitchen for a snack, the doorbell rang and she swore softly.

“What the hell is it now?” she muttered, turning into the living room. She glanced at her watch and frowned. No one she knew would bother her after seven. Unless Phyllis had been in the area and felt the need to check on her progress. She sighed and opened the door, leaving the chain lock in place.

He seemed to fill the entire hallway outside her apartment door and she found herself just staring at him. No sound came from her open mouth as her eyes moved over the well-remembered body that stood before her. Her heart was hammering in her throat. Her pulse was racing.

No. He could not still have this kind of effect on her after nearly three months!

She lifted her gaze to those haunting black eyes and saw uncertainty there. Her eyes drifted down that impossibly muscular frame, hot memories flooding back into her mind and causing reactions throughout her body. She bit the corner of her lip and prayed that he wouldn’t notice her legs shaking.

David swallowed as she opened the door a few inches and her eyes widened in shock at seeing him standing there. He found his pulse racing, his blood roaring in his veins. He tried very hard to remain calm. He felt as if he’d just been body-slammed to the mat as his eyes drifted down her succulent little body clad in sweatpants and a loose-knit sweater. Sweet Jesus. She could wear a fucking gunnysack and still manage to turn him on. He fought not to heave into her chain lock with his shoulder and drag her into his arms and-

“You gonna slam the door in my face, or are you gonna be polite and ask me in?” His voice was tight.

Sam shivered at the sound of that deliciously husky voice and she thought seriously about doing the former. But instead she closed the door, unhooked the chain lock and opened it fully to say, “I just didn’t- I mean you didn’t-” Her eyes narrowed. “How the hell did you find me?”

“Your business manager barely managed to squeak the address out as I was strangling her to death.” He ran a lean hand through his rumpled hair. His eyes were dark, smudged from lack of sleep and thrumming with what appeared to be deep frustration.

She swallowed hard. “Come in, David.” She stood back and watched him walk past her into the center of her living room. The sight of him had taken her breath away and she was unable to say more. She closed the door quietly and motioned to the sofa. “Please sit.”

He was looking around her apartment, his dark gaze sweeping the comfy room with its soft pastel furnishings. “Nice place.” His murmur was soft. He remained on his feet, looking massive and brooding and dangerous and madly sexy.

“We like it.” Her voice was breathy.

David returned his eyes to her pale face and he tensed. “We?”

“Snowball and me.” She saw the look of relief in his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna offer me a cup of coffee or a sandwich?” His expression was unreadable. He seemed to fill her entire living room with those broad shoulders and that menacing size of his. He was looking at her as if he would happily forgo the sandwich and would prefer to feast on her.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t have a coffeemaker here. I never drink it. But I do have tea. Want some herbal tea?” Why the hell was she so eager to jump to do whatever he wanted? She bit her lip. “Or I might have a soda somewhere buried in the fridge.” God she was pathetic.

“Anything you have for me would be fine.” His eyes were enough to make her swallow her tongue. She sensed the double entendre but chose to ignore it.

“Come on into the kitchen, David. I’ll see what I have in the fridge.”

Snowball was winding his body around David’s ankles and she frowned at him. She was about to tell him to go away but large hands scooped him from the carpeting and carried him up to that marvelous chest, where he scratched the cat’s ears and grinned as the damn little turncoat began to purr loudly. She felt an instant irritation that he had charmed her cat.

“Hello, buddy. You miss me?” David asked the purring cat in obvious surprise. He stroked the soft fur as he followed her into the kitchen.

“I hope you like root beer with your ham sandwiches.”

“Fine by me.” His voice was tight.

She sensed that his eyes were on her as she worked to fix him a thick sandwich and she almost lost hold of the mayonnaise jar. When she carried a plate over to the table and set it in front of him with a glass of ice and the soda, he thanked her politely and poured the root beer into the glass slowly, as he took a huge bite of the sandwich.

“Why did you come all this way, David?” she asked numbly.

“To get a sandwich and a soda. Good sandwich. Thanks. I didn’t stop for anything to eat and the flight didn’t serve a meal.”

She watched him, mesmerized, as he finished the sandwich and drained the glass. And when he sat back and sighed, she nearly lost control of her voice as she asked softly, “You think I’m going to just run back to Chicago with you again? Leave everything? I can’t do that, David. I won’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. Your place works fine for me. I don’t mind making Cleveland my home base.” His eyes were unreadable.

Sam stared at him. “You’re that sure I would invite you to stay with me?”

“No. But I’m hoping.”

She stared into eyes that seemed to devour her. “I can’t go back to just being your sex slave, David. I-” She barely stopped herself from saying it.

He seemed to be suddenly closer than he had been a moment earlier, and as his familiar, large hands slipped around her throat to cup the back of her head, he murmured softly, “Finish.”

“Finish what?” Her voice was a husky whisper.

“Finish what you started to say.” His eyes were on her mouth, making her suddenly dizzy with need.

Sam would have slipped to the floor if he wasn’t holding her upright, his left arm supporting her suddenly limp weight as his right hand cupped her face so gently, she almost cried. “Please…” His single word was enough to undo her resolve not to tell him.

“I love you too much to live like that.”

Further words were impossible as his lips caught hers with sudden savage passion, his tongue sweeping aside her mouth as she opened to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his powerful neck. Who the hell cared if he couldn’t love her back? This could be enough…couldn’t it? He had come after her! He had found her! He wanted her back…

Hands shook and breath caught in throats as they fumbled madly to undress each other. She was practically wild to feel him inside her again as he swung her off her feet and carried her toward the hallway, his mouth still devouring hers. He lifted his head just long enough to ask tersely, “Where’s your bedroom?”

She pointed and caught his head with both hands, dragging him back to her mouth with a mindless little whimper of need. She felt her comforter beneath her bare skin briefly until he rolled on the bed and dragged her on top as he scooted up to rest against her pillows.

He was completely on autopilot as he arched into her downward surge over his hungry, hard-as-fucking-steel cock, desperate to feel the heat and warmth of her sheath cradling him once more. He stared up at her incredible little body undulating on his as if she couldn’t get him deep enough into her. His heart pounded crazily against his ribs and his body slipped into the zone again as he felt her channel clench hard around him. He watched in awe as she came apart in an orgasm that was so beautiful, he couldn’t keep himself from following her, exploding as his cock bathing her with three fucking months of saved-up cum!

As she sank across his perspiring chest to rub her lips over his unshaven chin, he caught her face between shaking hands and lifted it to devour her mouth like a man who’d gone without sustenance for far too long. When he finally came up for air, gasping and swallowing the tight knot that threatened to keep the words buried deep inside, he forced them out. God knew she deserved to hear them. God knew he wanted so fucking badly to tell her.

“Do you think you might want to make our original agreement just a bit more permanent?” Not what he’d intended to spit out, but close.

He watched her eyes widen as she pulled back to stare down into his perspiring face questioningly. “I don’t need any contract to stay with you, David.”

Her words sent a thrill of possessive pleasure through him. “I wasn’t asking for a contract.”

She frowned. “Then what-”

He cut her words off with a finger to her kiss-swollen lips.

“I can’t live without you, Sam. I won’t live without you. Not ever again. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone before, but…”

Sam blinked down at his adorably confused expression. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” He seemed even more confused now.

“Oh for God’s sake, David Chance! You can face some frigging behemoth in a ring, but you can’t just tell a girl you love her?”

His dark eyes changed slowly from confused to totally wicked. “Words come easier to you. But you’ll never have reason to doubt that I damn well do love you, Sam Hastings. And if you don’t agree to marry me and make an honest man of me, you won’t get one more minute of hot sex. You got that?”

“Too late,” she whispered huskily as she smiled against his mouth, feeling his cock growing ramrod-hard inside her once more. “But I will marry you, David Chance. If you think I’m giving you a way out of this arrangement, you-”

Her thoughts melted under the onslaught of mouth and plunging cock as he rolled her beneath him and stopped her threat with a lush expertise that wiped the giggling smile from her lips and brought a scream of pleasure in its place.

“Hold that thought.” His voice was a rough growl against her mouth as he made her forget her own name.