E.W.E.W Copyright © 2012-2020 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter posted - September 11, 2020 

** IMPORTANT **

I don't know if wattpad sent a notification for the last chapter, but I think some of you had difficulty viewing it. Sorry about that!! Maybe try it on the browser? Also, I went back to change some dialogue from Chapter 3, 6,7,8 and 9 to better represent Sam's character (i.e. He never kisses Crystal in Chapter 9 anymore). Some of the earlier Sam was written with typical wattpad bad boy standards in mind, back in those days. But I never wanted him to come off as a total jerk, which he prob did lol?! Also the Donati name was officially changed to Donatelli. Lastly, pretend in your mind that Sam and Anna are in College/Uni. I know the earlier EWEW was written with them in high school, but it's not fitting for these characters lol. Just imagine them in their early twenties or smt. I can't change it in this wattpad version bc it'll fuck up all the timelines, but the rewritten published version of this book will be set in college/uni. xo

This chapter is one of my favs, especially in terms of communication between the characters. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did <3 Happy reading - can't wait to read your reactions <3

Playlist song: Sabrina Claudio - Belong To You 

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

{ Chapter 45 } : The magic of Beer Boy and Barbie Girl and those three words 

"We're not here to fight," said the dark haired one. "We just want to talk."

They stepped closer to us.

Sam kept me barricaded in the fortress of his arms, trying to hide as much as me, while still facing them. While digesting their words. Little brother. "Why don't you start by telling me why you hurt–"

"–We simply came looking for you – to talk. He waved his gun at us first. We don't like being threatened," Damiano, the blond one, informed. He pulled out a cigarette from inside his suit pocket and the dark-haired one shot him a zippo. "So we dealt with him."

I fought the urge to go to Anton and check his pulse. On the outside? I was calm. On the inside? Trepidation filled me, along with a healthy dose of anger.

"You want to tell me who you are?" Sam said low. "Or are we going to keep playing twenty-one questions like this is a bad first date."

The dark one barked a laugh, like he was truly humoured. "I'm Dante and this is my brother Damiano."

"And I'm not interested," Sam deadpanned.

Damiano took a drag of his cigarette, stepping closer and blowing smoke in our direction. "You want to introduce us to your...lady friend."

The jab hit deep, especially because from said lady friend's face, you could tell exactly what we'd been doing. I arched an eyebrow at him, not backing down. From now on, the only front we put on was a strong one.

Like a snake, it was time to shed old skin.

Sam made a show of whipping his head around, before his eyes landed on me. He tightened his arm around my waist. "Oh, her?" A slow smile blossomed his face, but it was callous. "Yeah her name is mind-your-fucking-business."

As Sam glared at the guys, they shared a mutual chuckle.

"Sicuramente il nostro sangue," Damiano said something in Italian that made Sam tense up.

"We were in the city because we had a loose end to tie," Dante started. He'd been leaning against Anton's black sedan but he unfolded into his staggeringly tall frame. His eyes were a carbon copy of Sam's – green, like my favorite precious stone – and they shared the same height. "Then we thought we'd stop by and see you before we left for New York. We've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Can't say I fucking feel the same," Sam threw back.

"Salvatore – our father – has been trying to get in touch with your mother, Rafael. Might want to tell her to pick up the phone, sì? It's best if he doesn't come here himself. You'll tell her won't you, little brother?"

Little brother. Little brother...They meant it literally. I could see the moment where this realization sunk into Sam's bones because my boyfriend went cold, his muscles suddenly limp at my side. I clutched the collar of bomber jacket, willing him to show strength.

Salvatore Donatelli. Sam's real biological father. Their father.

Sam recovered quickly. "I think you should tell your father to leave my mother alone, hm? If she ain't answering, there's clearly a reason why. Understand, fratello?"

"Hm. Tu parli italiano; I'm impressed. At least your mother taught you that."

At the mention of his mother, Sam's feathers ruffled and his chest expanded with the insults about to leave his mouth. I tried to stop it. A stream of angry Italian left his mouth before he took a deep breath. "Message received. Now get the fuck out of my face and don't bother coming back. I don't fuck with people who hurt my family."

"This Russian?" Damiano flicked his cigarette butt towards Anton's limp body. I gritted my teeth when ash fell onto his unconscious frame. "This motherfucker is your family, yeah? Seems you don't know the meaning of famiglia, Rafael," he echoed, eerily calm. This one, he had an uncanny resemblance to Sam. His blonde coloring was off and his eyes were blue, but it was the features that led me to believe that Samuel most likely looked like his biological father.

"Yeah, I guess I really fucking don't. Considering five minutes ago, I had no damn clue about any existing brothers. Oh, and my enforcer was alive. So sue me why don't you, stronzo."

"Let's go, Sam," I whispered in his ear. "I don't think they'll hurt us. Let's call Danny and get away while we still can."

Sam stayed planted where he was, eyes narrowed on his half-brothers.

Dante seemed like the more rational, older one. "The enforcer was an accident." He scratched his stubbled jaw and regarded Sam with a curious look. "You aren't even the slightest bit interested in catching up, getting to know us?"

"No," Sam said with authority. "If that wasn't already clear. I want you out of my fucking city, and away from the people I care about."

Dante ran his fingers through his dark hair, his tongue running over his front canine. Jaw flexed like he was holding back more words. Maybe even something like hurt flashed over his eyes for a brief second. "Very well, Rafael. Enjoy the rest of your night."

With a quick look at Sam, he ran his eyes over my figure, smirking, before politely bowing his head. He headed for the black Jaguar f-type tucked in the corner lot. "Dami, andiamo."

Damiano was a little bit more reluctant to leave. "Nice meeting you, too." He dug in his trouser pocket for something. When he retrieved it, he launched it at Sam's chest. Sam caught it with one hand, without looking away from Damiano's face. "A little gift from us and daddy dearest."

Sam's jaw ticked.

Damiano shook his head, throwing out his cigarette. "Oh, and that friend of yours – Ivanov? We can deal with him faster than you can utter mafioso. The Donatellis don't take well to threats. He'll be wise not to retaliate for this. We only spared him last time because we figured that you and tua madre are fond of him. That's the only mercy he will ever get."

The jaguar pulled up beside Damiano. He gave us a salute. "Ciao. Have a great life, eh, little brother."

Then he rounded the car and got into the passenger side. It blazed out of the parking lot with the sound of rich, expensive and fucking dangerous.

Sam didn't look at them. Instead, his gaze was riveted on the golden switchblade in his palm. I leaned closer. On the handle, initials in cursive lettering were engraved. SRD.

"What do you think it means?"

My boyfriend's voice was soft. "Samuel Rafael Donatelli."

* * *

Sam called Danny and calmly explained to him that we'd found Anton laying unconcious in the parking lot while we were in the Church. Thankfully, my enforcer was still breathing. I kept two fingers on his pulse. His heartbeat was weak.

I gave my boyfriend a sidelong look when he didn't mention to Daniel that we encountered his half-brothers and that they were the reason for this.

Careful not to touch the blood on Anton's temple, I turned him over to his back. He was breathing a bit more even, but the lights were still shut.

Sam came beside me and crouched down to my level, kissing my forehead. "You okay?"

"Yes. I just hope Anton is too. I feel so bad, Sam."

He nodded, before thrusting his fingers into his dirty blond strands. Gently, I roved my fingertips near the side of his head, where he always kept his hair faded and cropped short in a stylish manner. He shivered at my touch. "Why did you lie to Danny?"

His jaw clenched and he gazed away.

"You protected Dante and Damiano."

"They meant no harm, right? They just wanted to see me and Anton was an unfortunate casuality. They assumed he was a threat to me. Russians and Italians don't mix, Tesoro. Not where they come from."

It wasn't their fault – they couldn't have known any different. But hurting Anton was definetly on them and neither Sam or I were in a forgiving mood.

"Anton might remember and spill everything to Daniel."

Sam shrugged. "So let him do it. As far as we're concerned, nobody was here when we found him. Right, bellisima?"

"Okay." I gave him a sad look and cupped his jaw.

Sam sighed frustratedly and rose up. "What was I supposed to do, huh? I may not know them, but they're still my brothers, right? They're still my blood, right?"

Oh, Sam. My heart ached for him.

I got up as well and Sam helped me, seeing as it was a complicated ordeal in my stilettos. "Your heart was in the right place, Sam, and that's all that matters."

He held me in his arms and we swayed in the quiet night air for a moment. "I wanted to take you out for dinner and then maybe a club or a bar. Somewhere where we could just relax and dance a little. I wanted to get away from the bullshit for just one night and be Sam and Anna."

My arms wrapped around his neck and his tighetened on my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder as he continued moving us slowly to our very own dance. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. "It's okay, honey. Another time. Why don't you just come over and we can watch a movie at my place? Michael's been missing you a lot."

Sam smiled into my hairline. "Yeah, I'd like that. Your mom helped me video-call him yesterday. He begged me to have a superhero movie marathon with him."

"And you agreed?"

"Of course. Anything for my little man." Sam laughed. "I got him a Thor figurine – he said it's his favorite. I was planning on giving it to him the next time I saw him."

I pulled away from his shoulder to look at his face, licking my lips. "You know that's his favorite because he reminds him of you?"

Sam grinned. "I do not look like Thor, but fuck it. I'll take the compliment."

"Meh. It's the blond hair."

And the fact that you're both Gods in your respective ways.

* * *

Danny told us to flee the scene when his enforcers were near. He said not to be anywhere around Anton, in case anyone of interest saw Sam and I. After assuring him that nobody had witnessed us in the stationnement, we left.

I drove to Marnie's Shack and Sam followed closely behind in his Ducati.

I was in no condition to go inside and order food, so Sam took one for the team, while I fixed my face. When the evidence of me choking on Sam's cock was long gone, my boyfriend emerged from the restaurent with two bags of takeout in his hands.

We'd decided to eat in the parking lot, before going back to my place. I made sure to park in a secluded area where we couldn't be seen. My tinted windows insured the added privacy. I was quickly falling in love with my black Mercedes and was two breaths away from begging Danny if I could keep this beauty. Or, work out some payment plan, because I was officially enamoured.

When Sam opened the passenger door and dumped his big frame into the fully-reclined seat, he instantly wheezed. Then he threw the takeout bags on the floor, glaring at me. "Why the fuck is this seat angled like this?"

Because I took a nap yesterday while my mom ran into the pharmacy to pick up medication. I gave him a mock-guilty smile, trying to look ashamed. "Sam, I..."

His eyes widened. "Have you had other guys in this car?"

"About that..." I laughed awkwardly.

Suddenly, his fingers were around my throat and he was pulling me into him, his nose at my cheek. "I'm not playing with you. Who do I have to kill, Tesoro?"

I rolled my eyes. As if I'd ever cheat on him. "Nico. I fucked Nico in the passenger seat of my borrowed car because apparently I'm a two-timing bitch."

He growled playfully against my jaw. "Then he's dead."

I elbowed his chest, chuckling and reaching for the takeout bags near his feet. "Get over yourself. My mom drove with me riding shotgun. I took a nap while she did errands."

He pouted like a sullen little boy being reprimanded. I shot a fry at him. "Like I have plans of doing anybody else, Beer Boy."

"Hmm. So when do you have plans of doing me, Barbie?"

I paused for a second, giving him a quick look. I cleared my throat. "You do know that we haven't had sex yet, not because I'm playing coy or anything, but because I never felt ready before. For weeks, I was just getting to know you, learn you. I don't want to rush into something."

Not like I did the first time.

His eyebrows knitted together, a crease on his forehead. "Jodanna, I never want to pressure you into doing something you don't want. I'll only take as much as you give. Yes, I like pleasuring you. Yes, I call you my fucking cocktease, but not because I'm angry and eager for you to spread your legs. I just like seeing how my words turn you on and cause you to blush."

"I'm not trying to play a tease on purpose or anything like that," I rushed out quickly. I sought his eyes before I continued. "Sex scares me a little. Intimacy scared me before, well, you."

"This is the first time we've spoken out loud about this." He angled his body my way to give me his undivided attention. "Talk to me."

I reached for my caramel milkshake. "Before Joey, I used to date around. Yes, I fooled with guys, but I never took it far. Not because I was playing hard to get, despite popular beliefs. I'd just never found anyone I loved enough to give myself away. And while I thought I loved Joey, I wasn't ready to have sex with him, Sam. He took what I wasn't ready to give." I paused to avoid his gaze and took a sip of my drink. "And I gave it because I thought I owed him for giving me a place to stay when I fought with my parents. Back then I was thinking: what's the point in waiting? You can do this! But when he was inside me...It felt wrong and degrading and disgusting and all kinds of I'm not ready. But I still let him take me and it was the second worse experience of my life."

When Sam remained quiet, I added softly. "The first experience was the morning I found out my dad died from the eight bullets inside his body."

Sam stared at me, throat bobbing uncomfortably. He reached for my hand to give me comfort. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Thank you." I gave him a grateful smile, but it was weighed down by regret.

Sam took a sip of his own drink. "I always kind of figured that you weren't ready for intimacy. It was all over your body language. For the longest time, I thought it was me. But then I noticed how you acted around all boys and I realized that there was something more. Every time I got close to you, just a little bit intimate, I got scared you would run away and I'd lose my chance."

I blinked at him. "Is that why it took you so long to kiss me?"

Sam stroked my cheek softly. "What do you think, baby?" he shaked his head a little. "I wanted to get close to you in a way where I just, fuck, got under your skin. The same way you crawled under mine the first time I saw you. That way, I figured you'd seek me out too – that way, I wasn't the only one doing the chasing. I wanted you to want me as bad as I wanted you."

"You did get under my skin," I whispered. "And it scared me because you were exactly the kind of guy I programmed myself, after Joey, to stay the fuck away from. The kind that screams trouble – your reputation, your scars, your behaviour. Because look where my biggest mistake landed me? With a dead father."

"I don't blame you for being weary of me," he whispered back, green eyes swimming with vivid emotions. "I don't blame you at all."

"But you consistently proved me otherwise, didn't you?" I flicked his chin adoringly, the way he'd done to me earlier tonight when I was on my knees. "You kept surprising me at every turn. Kept making me realize how wrongly I had pinned you."

"Was it difficult trusting me?" he asked softly, his thumb now grazing my temple lovingly.

I turned my head and kissed his wrist. "Not as difficult as I would have liked. You never gave me a reason to not trust you, because you were always at every corner, defending me. It was just my own prejudice against you, but that shattered away faster than I thought."

"Until Crystal claimed to be my girlfriend." Sam winced, reaching into his takeout bag to scoop out some fries. "I'm still so fucking sorry about that."

"What's the deal with her, by the way? I never understood that."

A pained expression flashed on his face. "Anna, it's not my thing to say."

I arched an eyebrow. "I won't tell anyone anything, but don't you think you owe me a little bit more truth surrounding her, considering I'm your girlfriend?"

"Okay. Fine. Fair play." He took a deep breath, and his head flopped against the headrest. "When Crystal was thirteen, she was... raped by her stepfather. Then stepbrother. Repeatedly. Her mother and grandmother died when she was young and so she lived with those two fucking monsters, Anna. It took her one whole year of enduring sexual abuse to be able to speak out against it. I met her when we were fourteen. She was sitting outside the school's psychologist, waiting for her appointment and so was I. It had been a year since my sister died and my head still wasn't in the right place. I was getting into too many brawls at school. Even my mama was losing hope with me, crying and drowning in her sorrow because my dad – David Adams – had abandoned us, too."

I was speechless. I had made up so many scenarios in my head regarding her, but never that. Hearing this out loud just made me realize how many women go through sexual assault and how so very little speak out against it. "Sam, oh my God. I don't even know what to say."

"It's fucking shitty, huh?"

"Nobody in the world deserves that." My throat tightened at the thought of Crystal and how many times I'd crossed her in the hallways, registered her icy demeanor, and not once thought of this as the reason why.

"After that, Crystal and I formed a friendship and she eventually told me what happened to her. I was so angry. It was bad enough that my sister was...gang raped, but monsters prayed on little girls too? I couldn't wrap my head around it. I was raised to respect women. Weren't other men taught the same? Witnessing all this shit just made me more resentful at the world and caused me to act out."

"That's why you defended that little girl all those years ago, when you got beat up in the alley and Nate found you?" To stop her from becoming another Samantha and Crystal.

He hummed in agreement.

Similar to a blooming rose, a new petal – a new layer of Sam – was revealed and solidified the love I felt for this being.

Unfortunately, society constantly taught girls how not to get raped. But it never taught the sickos not to violate, or that a woman's attire wasn't an invitation.

"So why did Crystal call you her boyfriend? I still don't get it."

"I was sort of her safety net, you know?" Sam said. "When we were sixteen, she asked me if I would sleep with her."

I didn't say anything, despite the jealousy looming inside my chest.

"I said I would do it, if it would help obliterate the past trauma. One night to help her heal and realize that consensual sex between two individuals could be fun, right? Only one time turned into two, and two times turned into a friends with benefits relationship. But none of us had deep feelings for each other. Crystal and I cared and respected one another – still do – and this was just a way to blow off some steam. Because some time around sixteen, I had seen a girl in the student parking lot and thought 'Holy God, who is that and how do I marry her?'"

My heart fluttered and heat warmed my face when I realized it was me he was talking about. How do I marry her? Played on a helpless loop inside my mind. "You did not think that."

Sam realized he said too much, if the vulnerable glint in his eyes was any indication. To soften the blow, he recovered and shot me a mock kiss. "Obviously not. My first thought was 'Damn, she's hot' and 'How do I get into her pants?'."

I rolled my eyes at that, especially because I knew the true depth of his feelings. Even if Beer Boy couldn't say them out loud.

"Anna, you never have to worry about Crystal. I haven't touched her like that in over a year. What you saw at the library was just us hugging," Sam assured me, serious once again. He cupped my chin until I looked him in the eyes. "I felt like dirt when you found us together, even though you and I were less than acquaitances back then. The last two years have revolved around Crystal and I talking about our issues – well, mostly her. I listen because I think she's a genuine person who deserves to be heard. She doesn't have many friends, save for Rachel, but she only trusts me. I guess because my sister went through the same traumatic experience, she feels like I understand her best. She just called me her boyfriend that night in the locker room because she was distressed and had just suffered through an episode. She was desperate and shaken and needed me. I hated having to chose between you both. I wanted to be there for her as a friend, but I left you with the crappiest impression of me. I was mad at Crystal and when I told her that you and I were actually progressing, that I'd finally gotten somewhere with you, she felt horrible."

"I get it, Sam." I twined my fingers around the nape of his neck and leaned forward to peck his mouth. "I'm sorry about everything she had to endure. Thank you for telling me."

For being the best kind of human I've come accross in all my years on this earth.

He pressed his forehead to mine, his hands gently running over my waist. "S'okay, baby. If she was ever rude to you, know that it's just because she's protective of me."

And who wouldn't be? You're so perfect, Sam.

I thought of his friendship with her and it reminded me of the friendship I had with Nico pre-Joey-Donald. Except Nico and I had never fucked. I couldn't even be mad at Crystal. If they wanted to continue being friends, I wouldn't demand an end. It would be hypocritical of me, considering the fact that my closest guy friend was still Nico.

I felt for Crystal. Sam wasn't just an amazing lover; I knew he was equally an amazing friend to have in your life, and I would never deprive her of a person who understood her demons. Especially when she had no one else.

There was no envy in that sense. So long as she didn't try to fuck my boyfriend, I was okay with their bond. I was confident enough with my place in Sam's life. Other women did not make me insecure.

"I kind of get her," I told him, pulling back. I reclined further into the driver's seat. "She was dubbed as an ice-princess because she was beautiful, but didn't talk to people, let alone guys. Understandable considering what she suffered. On the other hand, I was labelled a conceited bitch. No longer holding the title of the cool 'party-girl' because apparently I thought I was too good for guys, because I never gave anyone a chance anymore. But no one knew that I was heavily guarded after what happened to me. And you know what? Fucking good. It was best that people thought that about me, instead of seeing how broken I was on the inside. Even today, I'm still healing."

"You have to be kinder to yourself," Sam murmured, sliding his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp. "You're not broken, my love."

"I'm trying," I murmured back, but my voice broke. "After what happened with Joey and my public humiliation in front of Westwood High, I withdrew in a shell. Even Layla and Gabriela didn't know the full breadth of my turmoil. I wouldn't let them in; they could only get the surface level Jodanna. Not because I didn't think they deserved to know, but because I hated talking about it and reliving the pain. I tried going to a therapist and I hated it. My nightmares would fade away with time, I told myself.

Eventually, fashion became a coping mechanism for me. No matter how shattered I was on the inside, nobody could see it on the outside. My exterior was made of stone. The way I dressed made me feel good about myself, my makeup was impeccable and not one piece of hair was ever out of place. So who cared how much of a mess I was internally? As long as I woke up every morning and took the time to make myself presentable, petty insults couldn't penetrate my walls. I was above these people. I was too good for them. These same people – society – had dissapointed me, called me disgusting names, so why should they see my demons, when they would only judge me further for them?"

"Fuck society," he rasped. "Fuck everyone who had something bad to say about you."

"I picked my battles. Sometimes I stood up for myself, and othertimes I was too tired, letting my outside appearance do the talking."

"It doesn't make you weak letting people step in occasionally to fight your battles with you."

"I know," I said. "You've saved me twice, but I never saw myself as weak because of that. When push comes to shove, I know I can fight. But mentally? I've been fighting bigger demons that I'm just tired." My proudest moments in life had to be the two times I'd clocked Joey motherfucking Donalds when I encountered him and he brought up my father. I just wished I'd been able to do more damage.

"I never saw it that way," Sam mumbled, before a grin spread his lips. "So all the sexy revealing outfits, fuck-me shoes, and sparkling jewels are a disguise?"

"Not completely. I love fashion. I'm not really a tradional artist, but I choose to express myself through this form. My body is a canvas and every morning, I paint the mood I'm feeling. Does it bother you the way I dress?"

"No, sweetheart. Your clothes aren't consent. Your dress doesn't mean yes. If someone dares to say something about it, they'll have to deal with my fists. I don't give a damn how short your hemline is –" Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across mine mischiviously. "–So long as I get to be the one to pull it higher and see what you're hiding between those thighs."

This guy, he just got me. This guy, he was was nothing but impish and my favorite brand at that too. I gulped down a mouthful of my milkshake to quench my thirst.

"You blushing for me, Anna?"

"Maybe."

Sam licked his lips and leaned back into his seat, finally digging into his sandwich. "There were all these rumours around campus about you. Most that I chose not to believe. Usually about your appearance because you were 'too' beautiful. All these unkind and untrue things. Oh, and how some people thought you got a boob job. That's where the nickname 'Barbie Girl' stemmed from, by the way. Can't take credit for it. The first time I used it on you, it felt like a playground insult. But you'd literally just asked if my parents were alcohol lovers or history fanatics and left me triggered. My name is obviously a sore spot, considering my parents must have been fucking high when signing my birth certificate. Because Samuel Rafael Adams? Fuck my whole childhood growing up."

"I'm sorry I ever made fun of your name." I laughed. "I think it's pretty fucking sexy coupled with your middle name. Also, I definitely didn't get implants. My girls are real."

"Oh, baby, trust me. I've felt them. Those are all natural." Sam wiggled his eyebrows like a jackass, and I shot another fry at him. "So is that ass because Goddamn does it bounce back when I hit it."

"You're a dog." I blushed, more pleased than I'd admit.

"Nah, I'm just honest. I think every inch of you is beautiful and I'm not afraid to say it. Plus, don't act like I'm objectifying you. You give me horny eyes and drool everytime you stare at my ass, my abs, my chest and my fucking dick. Don't even deny it."

I laughed in disbelief. "Okay, guilty. But for what it's worth, I like the inside of you a lot more."

"Right back at you, babe. You're loyal to a fault. You fight fiercely but quietly to protect the people you love. You stand for what you believe in. Even after you've been burned the way you have, you still haven't lost faith in people. Did I mention I love how you take care of your little brother like he's your own kid? I've never met such a nurturing, gentle-hearted girl like you. To me, these are the things that make you a strong, invincible woman. Yes, it was lust at first sight, but I've been smitten with you because of all these little things," he mumbled, taking another bite of his sandwich. "There's more to you, I know, but I just haven't unraveled those layers yet."

Fuck the food. I launched forward to maul Sam's face with my kisses. I planted one everywhere I could and Sam feighed horror as he tried to bat me away. "Stop it! You're getting lipstick all over me," he joked. "I don't want your cooties!"

"You." Kiss. "Didn't." Kiss. "Seem." Kiss. "To." Kiss. "Mind." Kiss. "When." Kiss. "I was." Kiss. "Staining." Kiss. "Your dick."

He chuckled boyishly, yanking me into his lap. "Fuck yeah, I didn't mind that. If I have it my way, you'll be sucking me like that for the rest of your life."

I framed his bristly jaw in my hands. He smiled roguishly, eyes gleaming. "The best part about you is that you'd do anything for the people that mean the world to you. You're not the giving up kind. You know how important family is, even the one you've never seen before – Dante and Damiano for instance. You treat your friends like your brothers, because you know blood doesn't define family. You make me feel like the most valuable girl in the world. And you fight hard...but you love harder."

Once again, Sam looked at me like I was the creator of his universe. He rubbed my back gently, as if locked in a trance. "I've never fully felt appreciated until you came along. Yes, I have my mother, Richie and Nate. But you always say the words I need to hear. You give me purpose. More reasons to look forward to the next day. I wake up in the morning and you're my first thought. I go to bed and you're my last thought. I want to make you smile. I want to make you laugh. I want to be the guy you call when you've had a bad day or when you've had a good one. How is it that you've turned my life around in such a short amount of time?" he asked in a whisper, but he didn't need an answer.

I pressed my forehead to his for two seconds, grounding myself, before pulling away.

"I know I was a douchebag the first time at Joshua's party, propositionning you, but I was bluffing. In the past, any time I've approached girls, even if it was just to have a semblance of a decent conversation, they wanted inside my pants. It was a no-brainer. My so-called reputation preceded me, and suddenly it felt like I had to act the part of a playboy if I wanted your attention."

"No offense, Sam, but I wanted nothing to do with your pants back then." Yes, I'd found him hot, but I had no intentions of acting on that attraction.

"I know, baby," he said cheekily. "You never said it out loud, but I could tell sex frightened you a little. Which made no sense based on all the rumors people sprouted about you. That's why I took baby steps. I only touched you more freely when your walls started lowering, testing the waters to see if you could handle me. I could tell too many guys in your past hadn't been careful with you. I didn't want to make those same mistakes and drive you away."

Sam didn't handle me like I was made of glass. Who was I kidding? He had rough hands and the filthiest mouth I'd ever encountered. But, in his own way, he did treat me like I was delicate. Not because I was weak, but because I'd been strong for too long. I adored him more for it.

"I love being able to talk to you like this." We always whispered so much at night in bed, but it seemed like we never ran out of things to say, to admit. "We've always skirted around the topics that make us umcomfortable."

"Because they're the ones that matter, Anna." Still in his lap, Sam rubbed my thighs, warming me up. "The uncomfortable topics are usually the ones that define parts of you, and no one wants to feel small for the important moments that compose their lives."

Speaking of moments that defined us and were uncomfortable, I felt the need to finally relay my first experience with Joey. More so if I wanted him to truly understand the depth of my fear and my mental anguish.

One look at Sam's encouraging face said he deserved to have it all.

I toyed with his the collar of his dress shirt. "The night I lost my virginity, I bled so much I literally thought I was dying. My introduction to sex was horrible. I was sixteen and honestly not well versed when it came to this kind of stuff. Before that, I'd just given a handful of blowjobs and had a guy play with me down there. I didn't find any pleasure in the act of fingering. Yet I still thought that having sex for the first time couldn't be so bad, right?" I chuckled bitterly. "I was so wrong. With Joey, it all happened so fast like a fucking trainwreck. I couldn't even consult my friends beforehand and just have that talk. You know, the one girls usually have to mentally prepare themselves. Joey wasn't kind. He took me with a vengeance I didn't understand or deserve. I don't think I was even fully prepared when he penetrated me. He didn't make love to me, Sam; he fucked me like an animal. By the way, his dick wasn't anything spectacular. Not like yours, of course, but it still hurt the same.

"I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience laying underneath him. My wrists were pinned by my head and my tears were soaking his pillow. I was looking up at his face, but he was blank. The whole act was mechanical, and there was no pleasure to be found in the pain. His kisses were impersonal; there was no emotion. I felt like he was ripping me apart in two –"

"Stop. Stop. I can't hear this." Sam's big chest bowed with a stuttering inhale and he pressed a fist to his mouth, looking somewhere out the window. He was trying to get his breathing in control, continuously shaking his head.

I gave him a moment, before the tension got too thick.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I never really explained to you in details the experience that made me so cold, so untrusting towards guys."

"You're not making me uncomfortable." Sam chuckled without humor, the sound slicing the the privacy of our bubble. "You're breaking my fucking heart."

My eyes widened and he looked bewildered that we weren't on the same page.

"Don't you get it? What it does to me knowing someone fucking laid their dirty hands on you? Hurt you?" His fingers clutched the ends of my blond hair and he sucked in a deep breath. "It fucking kills me, Tesoro."

"I'm sorry."

A shaky exhale left him, and he briefly closed his eyes, gathering courage. Our food lay forgotten. "Go on. I need to hear this." Fury flashed in his eyes as he rolled his tongue over his bottom teeth. "I need more reasons to kill the fucker."

"Mentally, the whole experience left me scarred. When it was happening, I didn't think of it as rape. In my head, the words 'you-love-him' were playing on an endless loop, as if they would soften the fact that my lower body was just numb from pain. I didn't enjoy it one bit. Sex sucked and since that moment the act seemed associated with the bad news of my father's tragic death. I used to have nightmares about Joey fucking me and humiliating me in front of a crowd, and my father's untimely death. I was so close to my dad, Sam, you have no idea how his murder unhinged me. After that you can understand why I became the way I did. I never dated guys. Didn't want them fucking close to me. But you got under my skin and you never left."

You sneaked into my heart with your bad boy smiles and mischivious eyes, and everything rearranged itself. Until there was space for you and only ever you.

"Anna," he croaked against my cheek, his stubble abrading me as leaned forward to hug me tight. I fell into his embrace, his lap my personal sanctuary. My throne. "I'm so fucking sorry. A thousand times over. You're so strong, vita mia. You've been through hell and back. Yet you're allowing yourself to be vulnerable and talk to me like this. I'm in awe of you, baby."

"Sam."

"Look at me." He palmed my face with his callused hands, green eyes bright and sincere. "Thank you for being brave and sharing – I know that took a lot out of you. I would never judge you or see you differently. Ever."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

I pressed my forehead to his and closed my eyes, inhaling his colongne. "Our foods cold now."

He smirked.

I didn't realize how important communication was in any relationship – platonic, romantic or sexual – until this guy. Until this damn conversation. He had no idea how much I needed to have this.

Another layer of guilt was wiped off my armor. More dirt cleared away. Finally, I could see a hint of shine on my metal.

"I dream of you," he said quietely. "I want you and this–" he squeezed the skin of my inner thighs, willing me to understand. "But I only want to be inside you, if you want me there, baby. I'm not here to pressure you. Ever. I can pleasure you in so many other ways. That's not what this is about. I just want to be with you, at the end of the day."

My heart swooned for this blond-haired-green-eyed gentle giant.

"So we take things at your pace and just date. No matter how long you want to wait. It's fine."

I smiled at him, my heart so, so, so full.

"I do want to be with you, Sam. Soon. Giving you blue balls doesn't make me happy – yes, I know I have a whip in my room but I'm not a sadist – because that means torturing me in return. You make me feel good and cherished and you listen to everything I have to say, no matter how deep or silly. I want you."

He narrowed his eyes adorably, like he didn't fully believe me. "Is this a trick? Are you saying this because I said some nice shit and now you feel like you owe me? Because you don't. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't mind waiting."

My perfect Beer Boy.

"I dream of you, too." I leaned to whisper into his ear. "I want more intimacy because it's with you. I'm ready."

"And what do you see in these dreams, Tesoro?"

Everything. "You. Pinning me down with your strength, kissing me passionately, making love to me slowly. Then fucking me hard because you just can't control it. Because that's what we both want."

Beneath me, I felt Sam growing aroused. He stared at me with Bambi eyes, gulping. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Well, you've been rubbing off on me." Literally and figuratively. "And it's not like I'm wrong."

He shook his head, smiling dreamily, and caught my mouth for a breathless kiss. He positioned me better on his lap so I was directly planted on his tented crotch. "No," he said against my mouth. "You aren't wrong. Ready, right? I'm two seconds away from throwing your ass in the backseat and having my way with you, Miss Canada."

"Miss Canada, eh?" I laughed, as he pecked my throat tenderly. Butterfly soft kisses rained over me.

"You're a fucking goddess. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You should have competed, Jodanna. You're a sight for sore eyes."

The cheesy grin on my face wouldn't vanish. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome."

"If I'm being honest, Sam, I don't want my second time to be in a borrowed car or somewhere crappy. I want to do things right, for once. I think I deserve that."

"'Course you do." His smile could be felt against my jaw. "Nothing but the best for my girl. Champagne. Roses. A dirty song in the background."

Lord knows I didn't need a dirty song in the background. His nasty mouth was enough to set my whole body aflame.

"Then you can have me...On your birthday."

Like I'd slapped him, Sam pulled away to stare at me. His eyebrows were raised to his hairline. His birthday was less than a handful of days away, and his mom and I were planning him a small surprise party.

He pressed his forehead to mine. "You know why I call you Tesoro?"

"Tell me."

"Because you're meant to be treasured. I knew it from the first moment I held you in my arms in your driveway, after you visited your father's grave. I thought 'Fuck it. I've found her. This girl's guilt, grief and passion burns as bright as mine.'"

There was no way to explain how those words tilted my world.

So I asked him frankly. No more bullshitting. "Do you feel those three words, Sam?"

His smile was wry. "What do you think?"

Yes. "Then why haven't you said them?"

He sighed, twisted my hand around until our fingers wove together. We held on tight as we gazed at each another. "For the same reason that you haven't."

* * *

We ate quietely, cleaned our hands and then drove over to my place. When Sam parked his Ducati besides me, I stepped out.

He pulled off his helmet, and thrust his fingers through his hair, trying to fix the mussed strands. He looked like he had a devil's horn on one side. "Get in the backseat of your car."

"Why?" The loud clack of my heels resonated against the asphalt.

"We're doing an exercise in trust, if you will." Sam was trying to bite the grin on his mouth, giving me a stern expression. Or trying to, at least.

I realeased a loud sigh. "Sam, my family's inside. If I'm going to sit on your face, I'd like to do it in a more comfortable place. Like, I don't know, my bed, maybe?"

He chuckled huskily, taking off his riding gloves, still straddling his motorbike. An image formed in my mind: Me beneath him and his strong thighs holding me down just like that as he took me from behind. I swallowed thickly.

"You naughty girl," he tutted. "There will be no sitting on my face tonight."

Um. What? I really fucking thought we'd watch a movie with my little brother then sneak up to my room for some NSFW nightime activities.

I pouted. I wanted to know what his mouth would feel like down there. I was ready, had no qualms about it.

"But there will be some punishing." He strode towards me, flattening me against the side of my car and caging me with his arms. Sam's eyes darkened with amusement.

My face dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Not only were you trying to make me jealous with Anton – which, I really fucking hope he's okay, God bless – but you mentioned Nico. I don't like sharing what's mine."

"God, you're so territorial."

"Possesive. Yeah, so what?" He clicked his tongue, quirking a brow. "So are you. Now that we got that out of the way... Get. Inside. The. Backseat."

"What trust exercise are we are doing?" I half-heartedly tried to push him away.

He tilted his head skyward, like he was asking the heavens for patience. "It's called 'Anna strips naked and lays face down on the seat so Sam can slap her ass into fifty shades of don't-ever-try-to-make-me-jealous-again.'"

My jaw dropped open. Then a disbeliving laugh tumbled out.

Sam closed it with a finger. "Don't worry, baby. Five swats. Then you can take your well-spanked ass inside and we'll watch a movie. Sound good?"

"While that sounds delightful, Sam, I'm not into public indency." The Church was another story. "Even if my car is fully tinted, I don't trust anyone not to see–"

" –Ten, Tesoro. Clock is ticking. Get inside."

Okay, so I didn't mind a clap or two on my ass. But did I really want to lie down, ass upturned like a prize, while he hailed blows? I didn't think so.

"Fine!" he shot his hands in the air theatrically, still trying to fight a smile. "Twenty eight. My favorite number. That's your punishment."

Oh, hell no.

Then he threw me into the backseat and followed suit, slamming the door behind him like the final nail in a coffin.

I crawled further down the seat, away from him. "What kind of sick game is this?" Dammit, he liked it when I teased him. But he couldn't be serious, right?

"The kind that I enjoy. Clothes off, Bellissima. I want you naked."

Sam got comfortable in the middle, legs open in a V, arms draped over the back of the seat, looking like a king seated in his throne. "Annaaaaa," he sang, eyes weigh down by excitement. "I'm waiting."

"Are you really going to–"

"–Spank your ass until my handprint is permanently tattoed on your beautiful skin? You bet I am. Teach you not to say shit that makes me feel insecure," he growled playfully. He had nothing to be insecure about and we both knew it. "I also want more pictures of you to expand my collection."

The last part got me going. More pictures? Yes. Sue me. Manoeuvring so I was astride him, I tugged off my dress. Sam ripped it from my hands and threw it recklessly on the ground as if it weren't expensive silk.

Every time I got naked, Sam beheld me like it was the first time. Wonderment crossed his face. His bottom lip was licked. Jaw was loosened. All that jazz. I was left in only my stilettos, my crystal waist chain and a black thong, which he'd graciously given back to me after I told him I refused to drive without panties from the Church.

"I should let you know that I'm a feminist and I believe in equality. So if you're going to spank me, I'd like to return the favor," I informed him.

He grabbed my hips and moved my body like I weighed nothing, flipping me over his lap so I was – as promised – face down and ass up. I yelped, catching myself on my hands before my mouth ate the leather of the seat. "Great. Love that I'm dating an empowered woman. We can sneak up to your bedroom later where I'll strip naked and lay spread eagle on your bed. You can use your whip on me and I'll pretend to cry out loud like a submissive little bitch. I'll even let you put on your sexy dominatrix halloween costume – the one I found in your closet – to complete the fantasy. What do you say, Dolcezza?"

I burst out laughing until I couldn't stop. Sam's own laughter vibrated through his herculean frame, causing me to shake over his lap. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, my stomach clenching as my abs felt the burn. "Do I get to film it?" I guffawed.

His hands rubbed my ass, before saying in an exagerated voice, "Obviously. We're trying to grow our spank bank material here. We're filming everything, baby."

"Wow. We can even sell it online and get rich," I mused. "Wouldn't that be nice?" I could use a new Chanel bag.

"Fuck yeah."

We were kidding. There was no way that Sam could ever be submissive, that I could whip his ass in a dominatrix outfit – mental self-note: revisit this idea 10 years from now to see if something's changed – or that I would ever consider sharing our private pictures. I still found it hilarious.

Until the first slap hit my right ass cheek. Then all jokes were gone.

I stiffened in my position and breathed, well, more like fumed, through gritted teeth. "Thanks for the warning."

"Start counting, Anna. That was one."

I clenched my teeth as the next clap came. "Two."

"Good girl, Bellissima." One hand kneaded my ass roughly and the other travelled until it grasped my throat. Dark voice echoed beside my ear. "That was for saying Anton is dreamy." Swat. "That was for saying you fucked Nico." Swat. "This one's for that sassy mouth that I love way too fucking much."

Swat. Swat. Swat.

Sam's low, pained groan said he loved seeing my ass – in his own words – bounce back. My gasps were muffled by the fabric of the car seat and I couldn't believe I was letting him manhandle me like this. Loving it. Hating it. But mostly loving it.

"I'm going to whip you so fucking hard for this," I growled, saliva coating my lower lip.

His dark chuckle resonated in the car, ricocheting inside of me, and causing my pussy to throb. Wetness made my thong damp until it stuck to my center. I had the unberable urge to yank it off and beg him for relief.

"Sure, baby. I'm counting on it."

By the tenth swat, my eyes stung with the mild pain but I thrust my ass into his warm palm, seeking more pleasure on my reddenned flesh. Yes, I was enjoying this more than I cared to admit in the beginning and that's because I did, at the end of the day, trust Sam.

There's no one else in the world for whom I'd lay naked. My limbs molded in an erotic pose over the lap of my lover because it brought him pleasure seeing me helpless at his mercy. Me, pleasure.

The fingers wrapped around my throat like a noose pulled away and mapped down my naked body like Sam was admiring a work of art – the same way you'd glide your fingertips along piano keys to relish the sound of such a fine instrument. I whimpered as his hand flowed down to join his other one, which was softly kneading my spanked backside. Suddenly, he fisted my thong and tugged, until the lacy material bit harshly into my pussy, pressing into my wet heat, giving my sensitive bundle of nerves another reason to fucking ache.

"Sam," I moaned softly. "Meu coração, please."

"I love you bound, just like this," he husked. Swat. "You're so sensitive to my touch."

The sensation was divine. My mouth echoed gasps agaisnt the leather seat. My hair was fanned over my face and above me, obsuring my view of Sam. He kept clenching the fabric of my thong tighter, twisting it around his fingers, as he continued spanking me. A shiver slithered down my spine when he grazed his teeth over my sore flesh. Sam loved that. So his tongue swept over the curve of my back, chasing the new frissons he ignited.

I was on fire, every line in my body pulsing with awareness.

My whole being shook with need. My arousal seeped onto his thigh and left a stain on his slacks. I could feel his own need, his bulge, poking into my skin. He kissed the nape of my neck and grated, "You're fucking loving this."

God, I was. My orgasm loomed close and he hadn't even touched my most intimate part yet. Everything was caused by his measured slaps and the constant tug of my panties against my hot, needy core. "I need to cum so bad, Sam. Please. I'm so close."

"Maybe if you continue fucking behaving, hm?" Swat. "Count with me like I said."

"Twenty-five," I sobbed brokenly, a lone tear trickling down the corner of my eye and mingling with my lips. "I-I'll behave, please. Touch me."

Sam savored his handprint blossomming on my skin, I could tell, because I knew he took pictures. The illicit act, coupled with him immortalizing the naughtiest angles of us, was enough to cause a new wave of need to trickle through me.

All at once, Sam took hold of my hair, wrapping the locks around his fingers a couple of times. "You want to come, Tesoro? Hands on the window." He yanked me up, guiding me, then thrust me against the window where my hands flattened against the surface, my breasts squashed against the hardness of the door.

My rough exhale fogged the window, surprise moving through me like a tidal wave. "S-Sam?"

I heard rustling behind me as Sam molded his front to my back. His mouth at my ear, he reverebated, "You're going to touch yourself to the thought of me – eventually – fucking you, baby." He snagged both sides of my lacy thong and ripped them. The ruined fabric fell somewhere on the floor. "And I'm going to record every one of your sounds while I jerk off against your thick–" Another swat against my left ass cheek and I mewled against the cold surface of the window. " –ass. I want to hear your voice ringing in my head for days."

I want to hear your voice ringing in my head for days...

When shock had robbed me of breath, Sam plucked one of my hands from the window and shoved it between my legs. "Get those fingers moving, Anna." He nipped my cheek. "I want to see you coming hard for me, you cocktease."

With another shaky inhale, my fingers danced between my thighs. Behind me, fully dressed, Sam unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, enough to free his manhood. There was a noise, like he was lathering those long inches, preparing to use my body like his personal sex toy.

Lube? Where in the hell did he sneak that in?

He promptly slid his thickness between my ass, resting there while my sore cheeks engulged him on other side. I gasped. So did he, before releasing a curse.

"Sam."

I heard his phone dropping on the seat in front of us. "Moan loud for me, hm, Tesoro. Let me hear how fucking bad my girl is."

A huge shiver wracked through my body and I did just that for him, giving him enough noise to get going. Sam grunted behind me, his big hands clenching my asscheeks so hard they wedged his engorged shaft, cushionning him. Then he started moving, pumping his hips, driving his erect cock over my skin, his mushroomed cockhead hitting the dimples at the bottom of my spine with each wet slide.

Samuel Rafael Adams gave foreplay, outercourse, a whole new fucking meaning.

His calculated thrusts got me going. My head fell back against his shoulder. My fingers circled my clit. Caressed until I was mindless with so much fucking pleasure. I rubbed myself faster. His bigger body jostled my body, courtesy of his thighs slapping the back of mine, as he fucked himself with the use of me. My breasts bounced with every drive and I knew my wicked Adonis had positioned the phone in a way that he'd capture every inch of our bodies without the fear of our faces showing

It started raining – hard. Water pelted the sides of my car. Our mutual breaths fogged the inside. We were cocooned in the safety of our lust.

His voice dripped sweet venom at my back as I felt his pulsing cock between the split of my asscheeks, giving me a mere taste of what it would feel like when we were actually joined.

This fucking ass was made for my cock, Tesoro. I'm going to own every inch of you one day. You'll let me have it all, won't you?

You're so fucking nasty, baby. Loving every second of this, aren't you? he whispered. Such a bad girl for me – only ever me. You moan so loud when I give you the right kind of attention.

You love my kind of attention...Don't you?

It was too much. The water cascading outside. The sound of his husky voice. My whole body shaking from this big man behind me with his huge cock, taunting me, loving me in his own way. The inccessant twinge of my core. Our broken sounds echoing in the confinements of my car. The revelation that this moment would never disapear because we had it with us forever, ours to replay over and over and over again.

My orgasm rushed through me like a crashing wave.

I closed my eyes, moaning to God. My favorite one.

Sam roared behind me, trying to tame the sound with a lip bite, but it pushed through the barrier because he was too big to be contained. In every sense of the word.

As he came all over my back...His lips moved over my shoulders silently, ghosting the words I love you, drawing them into my skin so they seeped through my muscles, my bones, and stayed coiled deep in my heart.

My own breaths panted as I came down from my high. I painted those three words fervently against the fogged windows. Without saying them out loud.

Letting them roam in the air between us.

I love you.

 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A/N: Um, so much happened this chapter? They basically said I love you in their own way?! How did you like Sam's exercise in trust lmao?! Sam's moment with his half-brothers? What do you think is going to happen with them? Oh, and Sam and Anna communicating openly about their wants and needs? Crazy how important that is in any relationship eh?! 

|| Thank you @captainhooked for the gorgeous Jodanna aesthetic <3 This was before her official name change to Jodanna Reina Sereno ||