Chapter 47

Chandra poked her head out the door a few moments later, her eyes scanning the bedroom for Sam. She found him on the other side, checking his phone. She cleared her throat. "Err, Sam?"

Sam raised his head, his eyes bright and a smile plastered on his lips. "Hmm?"

Chan licked her lips, blushing profusely. "I was wondering if you have a spare shirt and pants I could borrow. My dress is all wet and not quite…"

Sam understood. He chuckled. "Sure."

"Really? Thanks."

"No problem," he said and headed over to the walk-in closet.

Still hiding behind the bathroom door, with only her head peeping out, Chan clutched the towel tightly against her body as she watched Sam retrieve what looked like a man's shirt. His shirt.

No. That wasn't what she meant. She wanted a female shirt and pants. Not his shirt.

But it was too late. He came over and handed her one of his casual T-shirts. She stared at it, not knowing what to do.

"I don't think my pants will fit you," he said. ���Just wear this for the time being. I'll put your dress in the washing machine for you. It won't take long. Stay for breakfast."

Chan couldn't help but feel delight at the invitation. She was hungry after all.

She grabbed the shirt and said softly, "Thanks. I'll put my clothes into the wash myself. You just need to show me where the laundry is."

Chan closed the door again. Alone, she sighed, her heart racing. Then she turned her attention to the gray shirt.

A few moments later, with Sam's shirt on, she stared at herself in the mirror. She wanted to cry. The cotton material did nothing to hide her slender form, not to mention the shape of her breasts and nipples. Shit! She couldn't go out looking like this, could she? No. Of course not. Not like this. Especially not when she wasn't wearing any underwear because they were all dirty and wet and needed to be washed along with her dress.

She sighed. Reluctantly, she turned to the door and poked her head out again.

���Err, Sam?"

Standing on the other side, checking his email on his smartphone, Sam hid a smile. Her hesitation in calling out to him didn't put a doubt in his mind she was requesting another shirt. Perhaps one that wasn't too thin. He knew that particular one he'd given her would look amazing on her, showing off her slender figure and tantalizing his wild imagination. That had been why he'd chosen it in the first place.

He raised his head. "What do you need?"

"Another shirt, maybe? This one is…" Chan frowned. How could she tell him it was showing too much?

"Too big?" He finished off for her.

Chan licked her lips. "No, it's not that. It's just that it's too thin. Do you have a thicker one?"

"Yes. Just wait a minute," he said, heading over to the closet again.

What he handed her this time was more decent, Chan decided. It was one of his work shirts. Pale gray with white stripes. It smelled nice, too.

"Thanks," she said and then went back into the bathroom.

When she put on the newly offered shirt, she felt much better. The sleeves were a bit too long, but it was all right when she rolled them up to rest on her forearms. The hem of the shirt was long, too, reaching all the way to just above her knees, which was perfect.

All done and with her hair still wet and unbrushed, she bunched up her dress and underwear within the wet towel and then headed out the door.

Sam's pupils dilated with interest the moment he saw her walking out the bathroom door. To say she was beautiful was an understatement. The woman was gorgeous, with her long, dark hair wet and unbrushed. Her face was flushed pink, and her eyes were bright. What added the icing on that delicious and very desirable cake was his work shirt. It draped about her body like a lover, and Sam was elated. So elated she was wearing his favorite shirt, a part of him.

He smiled as she came toward him. "Are you done?"

Chan clutched the towel against her chest as she nodded. "The laundry?"

He chuckled. Of course, he couldn't help himself. He wanted to touch her, and he did. He cupped her face with one hand and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

Chan felt a tingle of warmth within her chest as she raised her eyes to him.

"You look so young without your makeup," he said.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. You just look so innocent and vulnerable."

He wasn't lying. At that moment, she looked much younger than her age, and it awed him as well as inspired this intense need within him to protect her.

Vulnerable. He hit the nail on the head right there. Chan was indeed vulnerable. Deep inside. Scared. So scared, in fact, she thought she'd go insane. But she had convinced herself all was well now. Nothing bad was going to happen. The past was far, far away from her and her sisters now.

The feeling of warm, firm lips pressed against her own drew her thoughts back from the dark side. Instantly, she groaned and felt Sam's tongue slip between her lips into her mouth.

"Mmm…" she groaned.

Sam knew he was going nuts for this woman. She was so soft under his touch. Thus, he kissed her passionately, his tongue wild in her mouth, dancing with her and caressing her.

When he finally drew back, he noted she was breathless and shaking.

He couldn't help himself, and he trailed his hand down to her breast. There he cupped the flesh and then molded the shape in his hand.

Chan gasped and bit her lip. "Sam," she whispered softly against him. "I don't know…"

Her words drew him back to the present, to reality. He immediately removed his hand from her soft breast and stroked her hair instead. "I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"That's all right. I was just… I don't know if I'm ready…"

"I understand. I'm coming on too quick."

Chan shook her head. "No, that's not it. I…"

She took a deep breath. How could she tell him kissing him was fine? That she wanted him so badly to go further, right to the final step, but at the same time, she was scared of the journey there, afraid of that route to the top. So afraid. Had been afraid, in fact, since she'd been fifteen, when Dave had started sexually molesting her, had taken her virginity after she'd turned sixteen and threatened her ever since.

She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. The past was the past. Now she'd met this wonderful man who was like the sun to her, warming her and making her feel so glorious. Yes, he was the sun to her, and she desperately didn't want to disappoint him. But at the same time, she was lost and confused.