SAMANTHA: Never Say Never (The Powell's Book 2) Page 3

  “Around,” she said suggestively, sashaying up to him and rubbing her voluptuous breasts against his arm.

  Daniel looked down at the buxom beauty and licked his lips. She was stacked. Just the way he liked.

  Daniel’s eyes darted around the lot, looking to see if there were still stragglers and reporters hanging about. Yes, indeed there were. “Not here,” he whispered.

  “I know the drill. I have a hotel room already reserved,” she said, slipping him a keycard.

  That sure of him, was she? He smiled slyly. “Let me change and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Don’t keep me waiting,” she purred, and sauntered off.

  Daniel watched the suggestive sway of her hips as she walked away. Oh yeah, she’d put a twist in her stride, no doubt for his benefit. What the hell? He may as well enjoy himself while he waited for Samantha. He’d have her back in his bed in no time.

  He turned to go into his motor coach and caught sight of a familiar face. It was that reporter; Allison Grant, he believed her name was. Samantha had mentioned she was an old friend of her and Tracey’s. She’d dated or had been engaged to Samantha’s brother, Declan Powell, Daniel couldn’t remember which. He wasn’t paying too much attention. Daniel had also seen her a few times with Samantha and Tracey.

  Daniel turned quickly and walked-jogged over to where she was standing with another reporter. He didn’t feel like dealing with any press people, but he needed to know Samantha’s location.

  “Excuse me,” he said, walking up to them, his lips curved into a smile. “It’s Allison Grant, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, may I help you, Mr. Ashby?” she asked with a smile.

  Hmm, she was fine. Maybe he’d have a little fun with her, too. She looked like she’d be good in bed.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Ashby?” she repeated.

  He shook himself and broadened his smile. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you, privately,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked bluntly.

  Daniel was taken aback by her bluntness. Usually women fell over their feet to oblige him.

  “I assure you it’s nothing like that,” he lied. He had very lustful thoughts about what he could do to her and with her, but the lady clearly wasn’t interested, and that wasn’t his main concern right now. “I was looking for Samantha Powell, and thought you could let me know where she’d gotten off to.”

  “I don’t have a clue as to where Ms. Powell is. I’m assuming she’s left the stadium.” Allison shrugged.

  “Yes, I know. It’s just that she left something of importance behind and I wanted to return it to her, but no one around here seems to know where I can find her. She mentioned before that you all were acquainted. I just assumed …” he said, hoping to appeal to her sensitive side.

  “I’m sorry, I have no idea where you can find Samantha. I’m on my way back to the station. I didn’t get a chance to speak with her, as I was covering the race before, during, and after. Maybe you can ask Declan. Weren’t you once a part of the Powell team?” she questioned.

  “Until recently, yes. I never thought to ask Declan. I’ll do that. Thank you for your time.” He nodded, not liking her response at all. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she didn’t really care for him. Nah, that couldn’t be it. “Have a great rest of your day.”

  “You too, Mr. Ashby.”

  “Please, call me Daniel.”

  “I’d rather not. That wouldn’t be at all professional,” she smiled.

  “As you wish. See ya.”

  “Good-bye, Mr. Ashby.”

  Daniel turned and walked away. Uppity bitch, he thought to himself.

  *

  Allison wondered what that was all about. Knowing Ashby’s reputation, she couldn’t imagine Samantha having anything to do with him other than the races.

  “He appeared to be hinting at some personal familiarity with Samantha Powell,” her cameraman, Rob, said, cutting into her thoughts.

  “It seemed that way to me. Maybe that’s just what he wanted me to think. If he was that familiar, surely he’d have her address and or her telephone number. I think Mr. Slick was fishing,” she snorted.

  “I take it you don’t care for him much?” Rob chuckled.

  “Not much. No.”

  “Good. I don’t, either. Just like you said: a little too ‘slick’ for my taste. He was asking about Ms. Powell, yet downright drooling over you. Come on, let’s get out of here,” Rob said.

  “I’m right behind you,” she responded. Once in the van, Allison took out her cell phone and texted Tracey: Thought you would like to know, Daniel Ashby is trying to get the 411 on Samantha. Will call you later. She then put her cell away.

  *

  “Sweetheart, your cell is dinging,” Shane said to Tracey, who was lying down with a wet cloth covering her face.

  “I hear it. It’s a text. Look at it for me, will you?” she groaned.

  “Um, are you sure? It may be personal,” he said hesitantly.

  “Really, Shane? Other than my family, who would send me a personal text message? Come to think of it, my family wouldn’t, either. Their nosey behinds would just call or stop by. Look at it. I don’t feel like moving,” she said under the damp cloth.

  Shane picked up her cell, looked, and could see most of the text before he clicked on it. It was a message from Allison Grant. He wouldn’t tell Tracey what the content of the message said; only that Allison would call her later. He didn’t want his wife getting upset, and mostly anything with Ashby’s name in it upset her.

  He’d had his suspicions about Samantha and Daniel Ashby for a while. Nothing concrete, just a feeling. Since he’d been in a secret relationship with Tracey before, he’d recognized the signs. And then when Samantha turned up pregnant and refused to name the father of her child, his suspicions had heightened. But after a while and then nothing, he thought he’d been wrong. If he was correct, Ashby had no idea that Sam had a little girl, and that little girl could very well be his. Shane needed to have a conversation with his sister-in-law, pronto.

  “Who was it, Shane?” he heard his wife ask.

  “Oh, Allison Grant. She said she’d call you a little later,” Shane responded.

  “Did she say what about?”

  “No. Do you want to ring her?” he asked, knowing she wouldn’t. Not the way she was feeling.

  “Not at all. I’ll speak with her later,” she moaned. “Or not.”

  Shane deleted the text message and put Tracey’s phone to go directly to voicemail. If her family needed them, they knew to call the landline.

  “I’m turning your phone off, sweetheart. Any calls can go directly to voice mail.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Do you want some juice or anything?”

  “No. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  “Okay, I have to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, walking out of the bedroom, through the house, and outside to the patio, where he took out his cell and made his call.

  Chapter Five

  Adam was sitting in his home office reading over one of several new venture proposals that had been submitted to him, when his cell began to chirp. Not quick to answer, he continued to read over the proposal until the cell stopped ringing.

  After leaving Samantha’s that day he’d been so angry that he decided to engross himself in work. He’d taken his jealousy out on her, and it wasn’t fair to Samantha or little Kayla. His niece adored him, and he her. Adam couldn’t imagine not seeing his Princess on a regular basis. Just the thought of her little chubby cheeks and curly top brought a smile to his face. His cell chirped again. With a heavy sigh he dropped the report on his desk, pinched the bridge of his nose, and answered.

  “Adam,” he called into the phone.

  “Hey, Adam, it’s Shane.”

  Adam sat up straight. Shane’s voice sounded low and strained.

  “What’s up? Is everything okay with Tracey?”

  “Other th
an constantly being sick, she’s pretty good. I left her lying down.”

  “Then what’s wrong, and why are you whispering?” he frowned.

  “Listen, Allison Grant left Tracey a text saying that Ashby’s been asking for Samantha’s whereabouts.”

  That got Adam’s attention really quick. He immediately thought of Kayla.

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. I don’t think he knows about Kayla,” Shane whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Adam asked. He wasn’t giving Shane any information on Samantha, but apparently his brother had guessed, the same as he had.

  “I always figured those two had something going on, been there done that, with Tracey. And the fact that Samantha wouldn’t give out any information on Kayla’s father can only lead to one conclusion: Daniel is Kayla’s father.”

  “I don’t think so,” Adam lied. “He saw her after the race, and other than him wanting her to crew for him, I didn’t see anything there.”

  “Really? He wants her to crew for him? What a jackass. Anyway, find out what he’s up to for me.”

  “And just how am I supposed to do that, Shane?”

  “Get some of your people to do it!” Shane barked.

  “What people?” Adam chuckled. This was funny but not funny, all at the same time. “I keep telling you that I am not a loan shark, nor do I have mob affiliation. What the hell makes you believe that is beyond me.”

  “Adam, please, you know people everywhere, and some of them do not look all that savory. Add the fact that you buy racecars like most people invest in stocks . . . you seem to know everything about everyone.”

  “And that makes me involved in criminal activity?” Adam nearly shouted. He was beginning to think that Shane was the crazy one, not Ashby. “I keep telling you that I. Am. A. Legal. Businessman. Hell, I do all of your PR!”

  “You sure do, and I know how much it pays, and it’s not enough to live like you live, even with our Grandparents trust fund.”

  “Why don’t you just turn me in to the law, Shane?” Adam barked sarcastically. Adam knew that he lived outrageously, but he had in fact cut down on the lifestyle.

  “I can’t; you’re my brother, and I love you. Besides, it would kill the parents.”

  Oh hell no, his brother did not really think he was involved in illegal activity? Adam should be offended, but he wasn’t. Neither did he have time to banter with Shane.

  “Have you tried talking to Samantha to ask her what’s going on, Shane?”

  “Of course not, but I just may. Samantha’s dropping Kayla off to her parents in a day or so. Kayla is going to stay with them for a few weeks, and then Sam’s going to stop in and spend a day or two with Tracey. I don’t want to bring the subject up with Tracey in the house and not feeling well.”

  So Samantha was going to Shane and Tracey’s. He just may stop through there himself—unannounced, of course.

  “No, don’t ask her. She may just get defensive and leave. Your wife will then ask questions. I say let it be for now. The only thing we can do is stay out of it. However, I will check around to see what Ashby’s up to.”

  “Thanks, Adam. I have to go. I’ve left Tracey alone long enough. Talk to you soon.”

  “Yeah, bye, Shane. Give Tracey my best,” Adam said, and disconnected the call.

  Adam sat back in his leather desk chair and twirled his desk chair back and forth. Of course Daniel was Kayla’s father. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Father or not, Adam was not about to let that shit-for-brains come in and wreak havoc on Samantha and Kayla’s lives. Inasmuch as he truly cared for Samantha, he knew that she had deep feelings for Ashby. Feelings he’d hoped would dissipate over time. Evidently, they hadn’t. Daniel still got to her.

  Adam remembered just like it was yesterday how he and Samantha had ended up in bed together. She’d returned to the penthouse suite on the day that Shane and Tracey had gotten engaged. He’d answered the door to her. Clearly she’d been crying. Not wanting to upset Shane and Tracey on their big day, he’d ushered her out of the suite and had booked another room so that they could talk:

  Shane and Tracey had retired to the room. Adam had come back to the suite because he needed Shane’s spare key. Just as he’d returned to the suite there was a loud banging on the door. Not sure who it could be, he had peeked through the peephole, only to see Samantha standing on the other side, shivering. Adam had swung the door open.

  “Samantha, what’s wrong?” he asked, anxiously.

  She could barely say anything, trying to hold back the tears. “I need to talk to my sister,” she murmured, her lips quivering.

  “Clearly you’re upset. Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand. He walked over to the elevator, took the elevator down to the lobby, and booked another room.

  He ushered Samantha in slow motion up to the room. She seemed to be in a zombie state.

  “Sit,” he ordered, once in the room. “I’ll order up something to drink while you tell me what’s going on.”

  The drinks came and Samantha still hadn’t said a word. She just sat there, looking off into space.

  Adam placed the brandy in her hand and watched as she downed the entire contents of the glass in one gulp.

  “Whoa, suga’,” he chuckled. “Take it easy.”

  “More,” she demanded.

  “I don’t think—”

  “More! Now, Adam!”

  “Okaay,” he said, and poured a little bit more in her snifter. She turned that one up, too. “No more for you until you tell me exactly what the hell is going on.”

  Instead of talking, she burst into tears. That was his undoing. He hated a woman’s tears. Adam pulled her into his arms to comfort her. “There, there now. Tell me what’s bothering you,” he said. The next thing he knew, she was all over him.

  Samantha had his pants unzipped in a snap, and her soft hand inside of his boxers, grasping him in her hand.

  “What the hell!” he cried, shocked. “You have to stop that. You’re tipsy,” he breathed.

  “Make me feel good,” she pleaded.

  “No!” he choked out. “Cut that out now, Samantha.” She was flexing her fingers snuggly around him, and his member was responding in kind. Hey, he was a man, and she was a desirable woman. Adam’s mind and body knew this, even as he tried to fight against her advances. That was hard to do since she was holding his member in her tight fist.

  “Why not?” she whined, planting kisses across his face. He tried to ward her off.

  “Listen, suga’, you’re not yourself. You have to stop,” he begged. Adam tried to push away from her but she held him so firmly in her hand that when he pushed her away she jerked his member in her hand, causing an oh-so-sweet sensation.

  “Why can’t good girls finish first too? Why do we always have to finish last?” she moaned, stroking him.

  “Aww, hell! You don’t!” he cried, grasping her by the neck and bringing her head down to his. “At least let me grab a condom,” he pleaded. Reaching in his wallet, he removed a foiled pack. Adam felt a little twinge of guilt. He’d secretly lusted after Samantha, knowing that she was seeing someone else. Oh, nothing was public, but he knew. His loss is my gain, he thought.

  The next thing Adam knew they were both naked, he was pulling on the condom, and he was placing her on top of the little table the hotel room provided. His hands, lips, and tongue were all over her.

  The taste of tan, pebbled nipples between his teeth and on his tongue felt so right. The sweet sound of her cries of passion egged him on.

  Samantha had begged him to take her then and there, and he’d obliged. Adam had used his legs to spread hers wide and sunk his full length into her in one fell swoop. Her womanly folds held him snuggly within her. She cried out and held onto the table as he began to pound into her. She met him thrust for thrust, demanding that he take her harder. It was as if she was on a mission and she wanted to take him with her.

  She let go of the table and sa
nk her nails into his back as he palmed her bottom, practically lifting her up off the table. They were wild for one another. The room was filled with their cries of ecstasy. Samantha screamed her release so loudly he knew the other patrons in the nearby rooms heard her. He didn’t care who heard. He pushed into her a few more times before spilling himself into the condom.

  They were both breathless afterwards.

  “Damn, suga’, that was hot as hell,” he breathed into her mouth. “Now let’s give that big king-sized bed a try.”

  They moved to the bed and were at it again, him asking her how she wanted it, and her telling him exactly what she wanted and how. It was the best sex he’d had in a long time. Afterwards, he tried to talk to her.

  “You want to tell me what all of this was about, darlin’?”

  “Wha—what do you mean?”

  “Come on, Samantha, you know what I’m talking about.”

  “Adam, I’m tired. You enjoyed the sex just as well as I did. What’s the problem?” she asked around a yawn.

  “The problem is what led to the sex. Not that I’m complaining. It was good. Real good. There’s something going on and I want to know what it is. So again, what’s going on with you?”

  “You’re not going to tell anyone what happened here, are you?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell. Although I just may have to wear a shirt at all times. Your nails got my back good,” he smirked.

  “Sorry about that.” She blushed.

  “You can’t be shy the way you just rode the hell outta me,” he chuckled.

  “This is not going to change the way you act towards me, is it? I mean, we can’t do this again,” she hurried on.

  “Why can’t we do it again?” he questioned.

  “My life is complicated at the moment,” she whispered.

  “How complicated, Samantha? Talk to me,” he said.

  “I’m pregnant, and don’t ask who the father is because right now it just doesn’t matter,” she whispered, her eyes watering. “Before you say anything, I know I wasn’t supposed to be drinking and…I don’t know. I wanted to feel like a woman for a little while.”