Home > Heart of the Billionaire ~ Sam (Billionaire's Obsession #2)

Heart of the Billionaire ~ Sam (Billionaire's Obsession #2)
Author: J.S. Scott


September 15, 1996

HE sat next to me again today. I have to assume it’s just a coincidence, because I can’t imagine why he would want to sit next to me or give me one of his incredible smiles that appeared to light up the rather dreary room of our college English Literature class. I’m not sure if I’m happy or not about the fact that he sat right beside me. Honestly, I had to look around to see exactly who he was smiling at. Certainly not me. Not Madeline Reynolds, the plain red-headed woman with the dorky glasses and too much meat on her bones. But there was nobody else in the room at the time, so I suppose he must have been smiling at me. I didn’t smile back. And I had a very hard time focusing on the classics with HIM sitting next to me.

September 16, 1996

HIS name is Sam Hudson. He introduced himself today. The man makes my palms damp and my mouth go as dry as the desert the moment I see him. When he reached out his hand today and introduced himself, I had to wipe my hand on my jeans before I stammered my name to him like a complete idiot. He was flashing that smile at me again and I went completely brain dead, unable to find even one intelligent thing to say to him. Why does he have to be so handsome…and tall? Everything about the man is just…too much. Maybe tomorrow he’ll sit next to someone else. I almost hope he does. He makes me too nervous. There’s something strange about a handsome guy paying attention to me with so many other gorgeous women in the same classroom.

September 17, 1996

Sam caught up to me tonight after class to ask me if I wanted to study with him. He’s doing the same thing that I am right now, working during the day and knocking out as many classes as he can toward a business degree in night courses. I have no doubt that he’ll be successful in business. He has a hungry look, a determination to succeed in those beautiful emerald eyes of his. I told him I wanted to be a doctor. I’m not quite sure why I told him. I tell so few people because it’s laughable that dirt-poor Maddie Reynolds, a girl shuffled from foster home to foster home, could actually aspire to be a doctor. Sam just smiled, but it wasn’t a mocking one. Then he told me sincerely that he thought I’d make a great doctor. How could he know that? He doesn’t even know me. But at least he wasn’t laughing at me.

November 14, 1996

I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to write for a while now. I’m doing all the double shifts at the nursing home that I possibly can, plus my classes. I have to have enough money to pay for my next semester. Sam took me to his apartment to study tonight, and he actually seemed embarrassed because it was a studio apartment that wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood. I don’t know why he should be embarrassed. He works so hard. His construction job is hard physical labor and I know that he usually works from early morning until evening nearly seven days a week. He’s trying to get enough money to bring his mom and his younger brother here to Tampa to live. Sam talks mostly about the future, probably because his past hasn’t been so good. I can relate to that. I’d rather think about the future myself. I’ve only known Sam for a few months now, but he’s become the best friend I’ve ever had except for Crystal, and she’s been gone for so many years now. I feel a little silly that I ever had doubts about Sam. He’s a very good person, the best man I’ve ever known. And he’s so supportive about all of my goals. I just wish he’d get over calling me his ‘Sunshine’ and pulling the rubber band out of my hair because he says it’s a shame to confine such beautiful hair. Is the guy blind? My hair is absolutely tragic!

December 12, 1996

Sam said something to me today that I thought was strange. He said his friendship with me made him want to be a better man. I’m not sure what that was all about and he just shrugged casually when I asked him what he meant. How much better could he be? He works his ass off, tries to help his family, and is working to better himself by getting an education. Does he think being rich makes a man good? If so, I wish he wouldn’t think that. Sam Hudson is fine just the way he is. He’s perfect. I just wish he didn’t have to work so hard.

January 10, 1997

Sam and I don’t have any of the same classes this semester, but there is rarely a day that goes by that I don’t speak to him. I don’t know if I could stand not talking to him or seeing his handsome face. He makes me laugh when I’m tired and crabby, and I try to keep a tube of muscle relief cream around for when his body has been pushed to the limit from working so many hours. He tries to uplift my spirits while I try to relieve his physical pain. I guess that’s what friendship is about. He stripped his t-shirt off today so I could put the cream on his back for him. Every time I do this, it gets more difficult to keep my hands from shaking, and I hate myself for it. Sam and I are friends. He gives me so much support and I’ve come to rely on his friendship. I’m a nursing assistant for God’s sake. It isn’t like I’m not familiar with the human body. It’s just…Sam’s body. His skin is always blazing hot and his muscles are tense. Sometimes he groans a deep, masculine groan of relief from his back pain when I apply the cream, and I flood between my thighs and my ni**les get hard. I start thinking about other things than just his back pain. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I know most women have done “the deed” at my age, but I haven’t. I’ve never wanted to. Not until I met Sam. But he’s just a friend and I need to remind myself of that fact every single day, even though my heart and body want so much more.

February 14, 1997

It’s Valentine’s Day and something happened today, something extraordinary. Sam Hudson gave me a single red rose…and then he kissed me. It wasn’t the usual peck on the cheek he gives me as a friend. It was a real, hot, wet, toe-curling kiss that made my heart pound and my body burn for more. We both came out of the kiss panting. I’m sure I looked dazed and confused because that’s how I felt. Sam looked horrified. He cursed and started rambling about how he hadn’t meant to do that and how I deserved so much better. He said I should have dozens of roses instead of just one. I told him that one red rose was so much better than anything anyone could ever do for me because it came from him. I cried. I couldn’t help it. So he kissed me again…and again.

April 10, 1997

Sam and I have been a couple for two months now and he still won’t do “the deed” with me. I want to. I’ve told him that. My body responds to his every touch, every kiss. I love him so much it hurts, but I haven’t told him because he hasn’t said it either and I’m not sure he wants to hear it. He says I purr like a kitten when he touches me, kisses me. Sadly, I think I do, but it’s rather embarrassing. Not that I have a lot of experience, but I don’t think any man can kiss like Sam. He knows that I’m a virgin. I told him. He says he’s afraid to touch me sometimes because I’m too pure, too good. If only he knew the dreams I have about him. He wouldn’t think I was so very good at all. I love him so much and I want him to be my first. My only. I want to tell him that I love him, but I’m scared. What if he doesn’t feel the same way?

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