CHAPTER 2

SAMANTHA THOMPSON

            I’m still shaking after Sheriff Vaugh’s visit and there’s no lack of reasons, the aura strength and raw masculinity around him is irresistible.

            The way the undressed me with his eyes, the comforting touch of his hands on mine, brought me an entanglement of scary and conflicting feelings.

            When I saw that huge man standing at my door, the first thing that came to my mind was how I felt alone and vulnerable.

            His tanned and well shaped arms and the muscled manly body visibly strong, even covered by the uniform, give out a COZINESS and PROTECTIVE feeling.

            Or maybe it’s just a feeling, an urgent need I have of being welcomed, after I was thrown in this hurricane that became my life.

            The thing is, he moved me, in the best sense of the word.

            I sit on the couch, holding my little box of memories, looking at pictures taken with my colleagues from Center Bank, in New York, and pictures from mom and Janet, my younger sister. I get the newspapers clipping and my stomach still turns when I read again the same old news from almost six months ago.

           

            “The investigations from Center Bank Hall robbery - NY on August 12 of 2014, still haven’t moved on, there is information that the FBI will take the case.”

            “The two robbers took part in the robbery of the vault of the Russian magnate Ivan K. Kedrak were found brutally murdered with torture marks on their hands and feet. Mr. Kedrak, only heir of “The War Father”, Iuri Kedrak, from Kendrak Arms Industry, was found by this paper for an interview, but he made no comment on the subject. Sources of this paper, assure that the Iceman, Mr. Ivan Kurkievicz Kedrak may have strong connections with the Russian mob.”

           

            “The mega robbery at Center Bank hall is still without solution, New York Police Department has evidence that there were bank employees involved in the robbery. Considered the most perfect bank robbery in New York City’s history, one of the gang members was found murdered, but the stollen diamonds from Russian magnata Ivan K. Kendrak’s safe were still not recuperated.”

           

            And to think how could I have been so stupid?

            I had my life all together, I got the job I always dreamt of, I got my boss’s trust and was promoted to vice manager of the bank with at just twenty-four, I was engaged and in love with Igor, I never thought he could have used me that way.

            The real truth is that Igor was never a sweet and harmless insurance agent he made me believe he was.

            I was sleeping with a cold blooded bandit, capable of fooling me, stealing, murdering and then treating me to death.

            I never met knew him as I naively thought I did, Igor was a Kedrak, Iuri’s bastard son, therefore, illegitimate brother of Ivan.

            A cold blooded genius thief that got close to me with only one purpose: hack into my computer, acquire the safe password from his brother and orchestrate the perfect crime of over fifteen million dollars in diamonds stones and bars of gold.

            He convinced me to leave New York to distract me from the investigations of the employers of the Center Bank and I only figured out I was used as a puppet when the son of a bitch ran away, not without first humiliating me in a drunk night and almost breaking my neck to eliminate me as a witness.

            I close my eyes and I still see him laughing sarcastically at me, after a few shots of cheap Russian vodka.

            “You really thought we were going to leave New York to rest from all this work? I hid the diamonds very well and you, stupid little whore…”

            He threatened me and caressed my lips, while he squeezed my neck.

            “Igor, please, don’t kill me.”

            “You’re going to be quiet, with your little mouth well shut, or you’re going to have a death so bad that that fat church goer of your mother won’t have a body to recognize in the morgue.”

            That same night, Igor ran away and I had no way of returning to New York, I’ve been hiding in Portland, but I knew that from those revelations, my life would never be the same again.

            The feeling of being watched was bothering me by the hour, this pricking and shiver on my nape has happened for three nights in a row. I look around the house and I can’t see who’s spying on me, but I know I’m not crazy, my intuition never fails.

            I need to get out of this house for a while otherwise I’ll end up going mad, woking in a shitty job to survive in this town where I only have one friend since I moved here almost a year ago.

            At least it’s something, I got a job as a waitress at Mathews T-Bone, a small restaurant in town and for now I still haven’t been charged of being an accomplice at the Center Bank robbery.

            The night is hot and I went to drink a few beers at The Sickle Pub, a bikers bar that plays dubious quality country music, but it’s the nearest bar from my house to relax between a pints of Duff.

            Some women arrive with their cowboy boots and really short mini skirts and the night seem promising. I enter the pub and go straight to a corner of the counter, a smooth Dolly Parton song comes out of the jukebox, I ask for a well bodied Duff and try to distract myself.

            I look towards the Pub entrance and my eyes are attracted like bees to honey by that mass of muscles and masculinity, modestly sexy.

            The austere image of law authority remains in his imposing posture, with his legs a little spread, biceps strongly evidenced by the folded arms and by the gray cotton sweater.

            But it’s his casual ways, almost messy wrapped in dark jeans, beat up boots, and the untidy hair spiked up everywhere, that surprised me.

            I need to get my breath back and balance back that he kicked away from this bar in each step towards me.

            He came walking in my direction, his burning brown eyes staring mine and the temperature in the environment increased dangerously.

            “Good evening, Miss Thompson.”

            I can only smile a bit embarrassed, shyness making me want him clearly, I don’t have the strength to look at him. I can’t decide if he’s more handsome with or without his uniform, but tonight, he’s as sexy and hot as hell.

            “Hi, Sheriff Vaugh.”

            He smiled and in his face I saw two dimples.

            I’m scared to feel my thighs getting wet by the sight of that delicious package of male man right in front of me.

            “Please, I’m off duty, call me Adam.”

            I try a smile without seeming silly and I point at the empty seat by my side.

            “Only if you call me Samantha.”

            “Okay, Samantha, what are you drinking?”

            I show him my empty Duff and he asks the bartender another pint and a shot of straight up whiskey.

            The bartender narrowed his eyes and I don’t understand what’s going on.

            The guy is huge, a somber look, a handsome type, but kind of scary, my thighs are two sticks next to this man’s arms, they stare at one another and the bartender signals to Adam to approach his face and teases speaking slowly:

            “Miss, have your bear, whiskey only if you’re not driving.”

            I get scared, fuck this shit, this is going to end up in a fight, Adam gets even closer to his face and growls.

            “Take care of your life, you bastard son of a bitch.”

            The bartender signals Adam to get even closer, showing some indignation.

            “Did you call me a bastard?”

            And he completes it making fists:

            “And son of a bitch? Was that really what I heard?”

            Adam nods and with a dash of mockery.

            “You always say the right thing, Damy Boy.”

            And them both laugh, banging their fists on the counter, the bartender kisses Adam’s forehead and smiles to calm me down.

            “Nice to meet you, Hunter Vaugh, Adam’s brother.”

            Geez! Wow, if they wanted to kill me why didn’t they just shoot me? It’s quicker, and painless, my heart almost leapt out of my mouth. Adam is a very strong man, but Hunter is more like a war tank type with two legs, completely scary, I sigh, fuck! If they were going to really face each other, there wouldn’t be spared a chair left in the entire pub.

            “Samantha Thompson, the pleasure is all mine, Hunter.”

            Hunter kissed my hand and then poked his brother on the chest, with the clear intention of provoking him.

            “You may be older, Damy Boy, but my word remains the same, whiskey only if you’re not driving.”

            Adam looked amused and calmed his bother.

            “She’ll take me home, don’t worry.”

            I lower my head without disagreeing, feeling my hands sweat and my face blush, if the bar had better lighting I would die of embarrassment, my cheeks burned with me imagining everything obscene and delicious that I could do to Adam by taking him home drunk.

            I could run my hand through his well defined abs feeling his six pack under my fingers, I could pull his messy hair that make him even more handsome… And the mouth, I could lick his lips, taste his soft mouth mixed with bourdon and maybe blow him and go down…

            “Samantha? Did you hear me?”

            “Uh, I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

            “I asked you if you always come here.”

            “No, this is the second time I come here, I’m new in town.”

            He seems relaxed with his legs stretched out on the chair, playfully spinning the ice in his whiskey glass.

            “Where you are from?”

           

            I’ll have to lie, I can’t say I’m from New York.

           

            “Virginia. And you?”

           

            I’ll have to lie to her, I can’t say I’m from Alaska.

            “I’m from here.”

            We have a fun talk, I found out that just like me, he loves books, we like the same suspense writers but we disagree a lot about music, he enjoys blues and I’m a lover of romantic ballads.

            Adam takes me to the pool table, his hands rest possessively on my back and a warmth ran through my body when he whispers in my ear:

            “Do you know how to play pool?”

            “More or less?”

            “More to more or more to less?”

            “More to I know what a cue is, a ball and this funny green carpet, nothing besides that, get it?”

            Adam scratched his chin teasing me.

            “Let’s see what I can do with your wide knowledge in pool.”

            He patiently taught me the basic rules and I confess that I didn’t understand a lot, but to be by his side it was something so good that it was worth the effort, I wanted to keep his strong and masculine body with mine, even that for that I had to pretend to be an ace playing pool.

            “You’re not holding the cue correctly, lean over a bit more and aim calmly on the ball.”

            I leaned more towards the “green carpet”, I felt all the heat that was coming from his body, he bend over behind me and his sex stuck to my ass, his hard penis moving with his hips, he grabbed my hands and directing the blow and his bourbon and mint breath burned my skin with desire.

            His lips so near my neck, I don’t know if it was me or him, but when the music stopped I heard a moan.

            “You learn quick, Samantha.”

            I turned my face to his and our mouths were no close that I panted by watching him wet his lips.

            “Thank you, it’s not so hard and you are a great teacher.”

            A new song began and I dropped the cue, pulled him by the shirt to the dance floor. He bit the corner of his mouth and confessed he didn’t know how to dance.

            “I’m good at pool, but I’m not good dancing.”

            “You just have to do what I do, it’s easy, let your body feel the music.”

            I turned my back to him, the dance floor was full of couples dancing and some women who were alone salivated for Adam. He touched my waist and slid his fingers through an opening on my outfit on my naked stomach.

            I couldn’t resist, I held his hands and moved my hips to the rhythm of the sound, in the compass of my desire that grew more and more, the feeling of having his body stuck on mine is so divine that I don’t know if we are really dancing or fucking with our clothes on.

            I turned to face him and before I could think of stop dancing, he pulled my hands and put around his neck, wrapping my waist with his strong and cozy arms.

            I was home, feeling his arms around my body, it’s so comforting, so warm.

            Adam is so strong, but his touch is gentle, caring.

            I buried my face on his chest and his smell invaded my body, knocking down any resistance I could have.

            Wow! His smell is so good, manly, clean, engaging.

            Adam pushed away a tuft of hair that fell on my face and I could feel him smelling and kissing my hair.

            We drank another beer and he got me by the hand so we could say good bye to Hunter.

            “Hunt, we’re going.”

            Hunter put down the drink mixer, cleaned his hand on his jeans and kissed my hand, staring Adam.

            “Take good care of this sweet, Damy.”

            “I will, I’ll see you home.”

            We walked to Adam’s truck in silence, enjoying the loud sound if the night, the aura of desire and tenderness that involved us.

            He left me by my door step and waited for me to find the keys. My hands were shaking while holding my purse, as if I wanted to prolong this night, keep the moment forever. It had been a long time since I felt genuine satisfaction beside a man.

            Before I turned to get inside the house, Adam held my nape and I knew what was going to come, but even knowing what would happen, I wasn’t prepared to this wave of feelings, the sweet agony that was the butterflies playing in my stomach, when I felt the soft and moist touch of Adam lips against mine.

            A smooth caress, exploring me carefully, his lips recognized mine very slowly, he wasn’t in a hurry to kiss me, but when I moaned, the kiss went deeper, making us dive in the blackness of a raw and palpable desire.

            His tongue tasted, tested, took whatever it wanted from me, my resistance, my fears, it was delicious the mixture of our saliva, his mint and cinnamon taste filling my body with life, with heat.

            His hand seemed to go through my back, my hair, tightening me in a protective hug, the feeling of being in his arms it was sweet and warm welcoming. He nibbled my lips and the walls of my vagina contracted anxiously for being filled.

            I’m wet, very wet and the delicious and increasing throbbing in between my legs scared me like hell, I never got so excited with one simple kiss, it was never so divine, so perversely perfect.

            With difficulty I’m able to untangle myself from Adam’s hands that caressed my ribs, making my nipples desperately hard and sensible and he licks my lips, feeling sorry for letting go with a moan and a long and strong sigh.

            “Thank you for the night, Adam.”

            “See you tomorrow.”

            “How?”

            Adam bit his lips while he slid his thumb on my lips, caressing them.

            “I said see you tomorrow, Sam.”

            I kissed the palm of his hand that was caressing my check, smiled at him, feeling my cheeks burn from embarrassment, what does he mean with that, he wants to see me tomorrow? Better not, this won’t end well.

            “See you, Damy Boy.”

            Adam smiled shyly, liking my boldness in playing with his family nickname.

            I entered the house, still searching for steadiness on my legs that left me in the exact moment I saw Adam for the first time, at the door of my house, from that moment, I knew that if he got to close you me he would inevitably impress me.