One More Night

EVIE

Time slowed as fluffy snowflakes drifted through the residual smoke. Vázquez and Lowry were a mess of blackened red bricks, the front door panel shattered, but the fire was out.

The chill of mid-December nipped at my legs as I peered at the reporters behind the yellow caution tape. Red-and-blue hues flashed across their faces.

I turned back, only really interested in looking at Sam. He stood a few feet away, speaking to a police officer, who was nodding and scribbling God-knows-what into his notepad.

Firefighters gathered their hoses, chatting amongst themselves, as Sam finally made his way in my direction.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“Thankfully, the fire department showed up quickly enough to put it out before the whole place burned down. They’re gonna pull the security footage from across the street and see if they caught anything.

“Meanwhile, I’ve gotta call all of my employees in the morning and tell them we’ll be working from home until after New Year’s. Insurance should cover the repairs, at least. But, Evie…they think it was arson.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

Why would someone intentionally try to burn down a law firm? Did they have a grudge against Sam? That didn’t make sense. Sam Vázquez was the kindest man I’d ever met, and I’d seen firsthand how much he cared about his employees.

“I just don’t understand,” I snarled. “Why would anyone—”

~Jesus, fuck.~

Remembered words trailed through my head. ~“This life you’re building? It’s a house of cards, and when it all comes toppling down, guess who’ll be here to pick up the pieces?”~

What if Greg decided to give that house of cards a little push?

“Evie?” Sam prompted as my words faded like the smoke rising in the air. “What is it?”

“Greg…when he came to my apartment the other day, he seemed different,” I said, my thoughts racing. “Determined. I don’t know. It was like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Wait, your ex-husband was in your apartment?” Sam demanded.

I couldn’t hold back my smirk as he let a bit of his jealousy show. It brought me back to the night in the bathroom at Finnigan’s when he thought I’d brought another man into the ladies’ room. But this was serious.

“Keep up, Vázquez,” I said, redirecting his concern. “Greg’s staying just down the street at the Rand Hotel. We have to tell the officers.”

As I stepped by, Sam grasped my sleeve, killing my stride. “Evie, I’m sorry your ex upset you, but we need more than that to—”

“When I ran Evangeline’s in Washington, there was this guy Derek who came in every week to buy flowers for his wife. Greg got it into his head that Derek and I were having an affair. We weren’t, but telling Greg that wasn’t enough.

“That year, receipts I kept for taxes vanished. The flowers that I kept in the back died faster than usual. And sometimes the shipments I was supposed to get never came—especially the kind that Derek would buy.

“After a few botched orders, I lost Derek as a client. And suddenly, just like that, everything went back to normal. I never had proof, but I always suspected Greg was responsible for all of it.

“I think he has no problem with sabotaging my job. Arson would be a new one, but then, I’ve never seen him this desperate before. He wants me at my lowest; he wants me so beaten down that I’ll come crawling back to him.”

I took a breath, watching the heavy lines in Sam’s forehead as he thought. After he’d been so kind about my infertility, I really hoped my crazy ex wouldn’t be enough to put him off.

“Okay.” He nodded toward the officers. “Come on.”

***

The police thanked me for the lead, but I got the sense that circumstantial evidence wouldn’t be enough for them to investigate Greg much. I didn’t know what to do. Greg was an asshole, yeah, but I wasn’t used to thinking of him as dangerous.

By the time Sam and I got back to his place, it was nearly one in the morning. I wasn’t sure what the week would look like; a lot of the information on the Vázquez and Lowry system was confidential, so there wasn’t much we could do working from home.

At least it was almost the holidays. Business was slow, and the plan had been to close the office on Friday anyway.

As we headed inside, we both reeked of smoke. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower,” Sam said, peeling off his jacket.

“Is that an invitation?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Do you want it to be?” he returned, raising an eyebrow.

~I suppose I could use the distraction.~

I cocked a brow, removing my coat. “It better be, Vázquez.”

I followed him to his master bath, goggling at the giant, slate-gray tiled shower wall surrounded by three massive sheets of tempered glass. It would be like showering in a huge glass elevator.

That idea immediately turned me off as claustrophobia reared its head.

I turned my attention instead to the colossal soaker tub on the other side of the bathroom. “Screw the shower,” I said, beaming. “I want a bath.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin.

***

Subtle eucalyptus filled my lungs as I settled in the tub between Sam’s legs and leaned back against his chest. Flickering candles created the serene atmosphere I’d sought all day.

The foamy bubbles on top of the water generated the mildest popping noise, which I could only hear because everything in the bathroom was still and silent.

“This is so nice,” I said with a contented sigh.

“I’ve got one more thing for ya,” Sam said from behind me, clicking a miniature rubber button on the remote sitting on the small table beside us.

Tender notes of a piano played through the speaker across the room. A woman’s tender voice quietly entered, synchronizing with each swell of the keys, completing our sexy little vibe.

“Hey…,” Sam said after a few minutes luxuriating together. “What were you gonna tell me before the police called tonight?”

~That I’m pregnant. That it has to be yours, conceived on that first night together; I haven’t slept with anyone else in months, including Greg, thank God.~

~That I’m going to try and have this baby no matter what, because it might be my only chance, but I’d really like for you to parent with me, for us to try and be a family—for you to step up just like Fernando did.~

“Nothing,” I lied.

Perhaps it was a good thing he couldn’t see my face, or he’d call bullshit.

“I’m just happy that I’m here,” I said.

It was in no way the right time to tell him. His livelihood was just jeopardized, more than likely by my ex-husband. We were both exhausted. Besides, I wasn’t even sure I’d processed everything myself yet.

“Me too,” he muttered. “In fact, I think I should ~show~ you how happy I am.”

“Oh.” I liked where his mind was at. “Please do, Vázquez.”

The sultry bass line of GRAE’s “Slow Down” picked up with perfect timing.

His touch sailed along my midsection before venturing between my open thighs. Without taking a single moment to tease me or let my butterflies build, he swirled my two favorite fingers on my clit.

I moaned, tipping my head back on his shoulder, eyes rolling closed to revel in his worship.

The heat of the bathwater tickled my nipples with every movement Sam made, but that gentle sensation couldn’t compare to the comfort of his sturdy arm wrapped around my waist, keeping my back pinned against his frame.

His strong cock pressed firmly into my spine. It almost broke my heart that it wasn’t where it should be, despite the satisfaction his hand was currently gifting me.

I gripped the side of the tub, soap suds coating my palms. My body squeaked along the porcelain, making waves in the bathwater with each tiny moan and jerk of my hips.

“Remember, it’s just you and me, baby. No employees, no neighbors, no limits…” he whispered against my earlobe, the heat of his breath nearly finishing me on the spot. “I wanna hear you when you cum.”

I always used to hate when Greg tried to talk dirty to me. Frankly, it was a turn-off. But something about Sam’s tone, the words he used, made me love every filthy thing that fell from his lips. In fact, I craved it.

Sam suckled on my neck, and without warning I tumbled into a stomach-sinking orgasm. As demanded, I screamed with pleasure, gasping for breath with each pulsing twinge of my pussy.

“There ya go, angel.”

My wails eventually subsided, his circling fingers slowed, and my tensed muscles relaxed against him, though I could feel he was still hard and ready to fuck.

“How was that?” he asked, sounding smug.

“So good,” I hummed.

And it truly was—a better orgasm than any I’d ever drawn from myself with my own fingers.

“I want you, angel,” he whispered, before planting a kiss on my earlobe.

“Well,” I said, eyeing the way we’d already soaked the bathmat, “believe it or not, I’m not a huge fan of having sex in water. The friction gets weird.”

“What about above it?” he asked.

I glanced over my shoulder with a smirk. “What do you have in mind?”