AlTonya Washington - His Texas Touch

Avra could only press her lips together in response to his query. Sam appeared satisfied and eventually stepped back to open the passenger door and wave her inside.

* * *

“What are you doing?” she asked when they arrived at her building and he shut down the truck’s smooth engine.

“I’m going in.”

“Why?”

“Are you packed?”

“Yes, and I only have to grab my bag and I’ll be right out.”

A smile tugged the shamefully sensual curve of his wide mouth. “You’re lying,” he said after studying her for a beat.

Avra rolled her eyes past the windshield. “So what’d you ask me for, then?”

“To see what kind of lie you’d come up with.”

Avra opened the door and left the truck cab in a huff.

Sam chuckled and left the vehicle with ease.

Of course the guards knew Sam. Almost everyone in Houston worked for or knew someone who worked for Machine Melendez.

“Evenin’, Miss Avra,” Claude Bevins greeted and tipped his cap before grinning broadly at Sam and extending his hand for a shake.

“Need us to have your truck parked, man?” Joel Henries asked after he’d shaken hands with Sam, as well.

Grinning, Sam waited for Avra’s coffee-brown eyes to come to his dark ones. “Thanks, guys, but we won’t be long. Ms. Ross is spending the night at my place.”

The look she sent his way should have reduced Sam to a pool of waste on the lobby floor. It had had a similar effect on others. Sam’s grin merely broadened when she left him standing with the guards.

“Better head on up before she changes her mind, boys.” He clapped Joel’s shoulder and slanted a wink toward Claude and sprinted off.

Avra didn’t bother holding open the elevator door. She was only intent on closing out the sound of Sam’s laughter with the guards. The cherrywood doors were almost sealed when a hand slid between them. Sam eased inside the car a few seconds later. Avra slapped him as soon as the doors closed at his back.

“High school was never my favorite game to play, Sam.”

“What?” He raised both hands in an innocent move that mocked the grin on his face. He sidestepped her in the small confines of the car, when she moved to hit him again.

“You are spending the night at my place, right?”

“Oh, please.”

“What?”

“You jackass, you know that’s not what you wanted them to think.”

Taking the risk of being hit again, Sam stepped close. “What is it you think I wanted them to think? Ahh…” Enviously long lashes shielded his eyes then. “That you’re going to my place to have sex with me…”

Avra snorted. “That’ll never happen.”

“Is that right?” He slammed a fist against the elevator’s stop button without looking toward the control panel. “Never?” he probed.

There wasn’t much space to retreat. Correction: there was no space to retreat when one shared an elevator with the likes of Samson Melendez. Avra cleared her throat but refused to show any other trace of unease.

“Is this crowding supposed to intimidate me or have me panting like an idiot and hoping you’ll do something I didn’t know I wanted?”

The unexpected challenging inquiry softened Sam’s

copper-kissed features with thoughtfulness instead of humor.

“Have you put much consideration into me doing something like that, Av?”

She rolled her eyes, edging away from him in one cool move. “Is this your way of making me change my opinion of you?”

Sam leaned on the opposite wall of the car and raked his pitch stare down the rigid line of her back, which she’d turned his way. “What’s the point in tryin’ to better myself when you’ve already told me it’s pointless?” He studied the lines in his palms and waited for her answer.

Avra looked up at the floor number, which had lit up when Sam stopped the car. “I’d never tell you it’s pointless to better yourself, Sam.” She turned her head a fraction. “It’s only pointless to think bettering yourself will get me in your bed.” She didn’t need to turn around. She could feel his wide frame less than an inch away.

“I never said it had to be my bed.”

His words preceded touch. Avra bit her upper lip and swallowed when one of his big hands smothered a small yet full breast. Not long after, he’d worked the nipple into a firm nub beneath her shirt and eased it past the barrier of her bra.

Avra didn’t try resisting. She already knew she couldn’t. Instead she moved against the subtle, pleasurable massage. Barely there, breathy sounds slipped past her mouth as she pressed her nipple deeper into his palm. She was moments from turning to him when she snapped to.

Sam had hit the elevator’s stop button again. The car continued its ascent. He put space between them, giving Avra time to fix her clothes and collect herself. She kept her back turned for the duration of the trip. Once the doors whispered open, she bolted from the car.

Alone then, Sam allowed his smug playfulness to vanish. Pressing a thumb to the corner of his eye, he sighed heavily. “Nice, Sam, nice…” he muttered.

He left the car reluctantly and was more than a little surprised to find Avra holding open the door when he arrived at the condo. He crossed the threshold as reluctantly as he’d left the elevator. His dark gaze was astute, alert as he observed his surroundings in the event that an anvil or some other destructive device might come crashing down on his head. He moved no farther than the foyer.

“Drink?” Avra slammed the door and moved past him and into the condominium.

Sam continued to tread slowly. Hands in his pockets, the alertness in his eyes transitioned into something more akin to curiosity. He watched her kick off the chocolate pumps that complemented the mocha and tan of her blouse and accentuated her shapely long legs beneath the flaring hem of her wrap skirt.

Avra prepared a gin tonic, took a sip then wiggled her glass in silent inquiry to Sam.

“Got any Jack?” he asked, relaxing just a smidge.

She dutifully prepared the drink and then crossed the room while sipping her gin. She handed him a beaded glass and waited for him to drink.

“Why is my dad protecting yours?” she asked when he nodded his approval of the liquor.

Samson blinked deliberately, his attempt at ease sailing right into oblivion. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Right.” Avra shook her head. “I see your dad shares about as much as mine does.” She demurely sipped more of her drink.

Sam downed the rest of the Jack Daniel’s. “I’m still confused, Av.”

“My dad called a meeting today and basically threatened to fire his reporters if they so much as sniffed at the Melendez story. Why would he do that? Protect MM that way?”

Sam was twirling the empty beaded glass in his hands. “I haven’t got one damn clue, Av.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

“Darlin’—” he grinned wearily “—I sure as hell would if I knew where to start. All I have are bits and pieces of junk that may or may not be anything.”

Avra believed him. Especially since her own luck at finding answers had proven to be just as dismal. She was certainly in no position to share what she had,

either.

“I’ll get my stuff packed,” she said and set her glass on an end table before scooping up the shoes she’d kicked off. “Won’t be long,” she called over her shoulder.

Alone in the living room, Sam went to help himself to another drink. He scanned the room and looked thoughtfully toward the mound of files and papers lying on the coffee table.

* * *

“What the hell is this?” Brad Crest’s tanned face was a study in frustration and confusion. One of his men had just set the last of eight boxes on the counter in his office at the precinct.