Ali watched Sam as he downed another shot with his cousin. The two men grinned like idiots at each other laughing at some inside joke they shared.

It had taken Ali more than a moment to recover after the fantastic orgasm Sam provided only a short time ago. The thought of Sam's flushed skin burning against hers in the sweet afterglow made her insides clench. Sam made the moments after making love almost as amazing as the act itself. As soon as Jack had his needs met, he would discard Ali as quickly as one tosses a used paper towel once their hands are dry. Post sex with the string of paramours when she was single was a sprint to escape their presence and any hint of intimacy.

It was another world with Sam. He held her close, as the spasms rippled through her body and until her heart stopped slamming inside her chest. Strong hands traced her skin above her collar bone, down her arms, along her back, sometimes drawing slow circles that caused Ali to tingle over and over. Soft kisses accompanied by sweet nothings and I love you's buzzing into her ear intimately. Ali consistently felt adored.

And once she recovered her senses, Ali also got the pleasure of returning the sensation. Placing her hand on Sam's chest until the beating rhythm underneath it returned to normal. Exploring his body, the small brown freckle on his shoulder, that matched the fine flecks in his green eyes that were only visible when Ali was this close to him. She could get lost for hours in Sam's eyes, in those vulnerable moments.

But the bathroom of a club was not the place to languish for hours. Too soon, they separated, putting clothing back on, fixing hair and trying to look normal. Even so, after returning from the bathroom, Ali didn't want any more alcohol, she was too high on life itself.

Back with the group, Ali was seated on the couch opposite the men with Emily at her side. "I have never seen Sam so happy," Emily called into her ear.

Ali looked into the soft grey eyes of her new friend and smiled at her. It was a rare thing for Ali to put her trust in another person, never mind a stranger. Somehow, she had an instant bond with this woman that made Ali want to tell her things, get her opinion, believe in her.

"He deserves it." Things had turned out for the best in the end, but it had been a rocky start to the evening.

Standing in that alcove with the hostess watching their every move, Ali had wanted so badly to reach up and remove the worried crease that had formed on Sam's forehead. She always knew how stressed he was about something by the depth of that crinkle. At that moment it was a crater, marring Sam's beautiful face. Still, Ali hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of words that hit her when they were finally alone in that elevator.

As Sam had apologized, Ali felt a mixture of relief and glee. The whole incident with the press on the way into the club had thrown her off, getting hot and cold readings off of Sam's body language. When the reporter asked her point-blank about her feelings for Sam, she came up with the witty reply to buy herself and Sam some time.

For days now, since her ex-husband had interrupted their blissful lives, Sam had stuck by Ali like she was a fragile sculpture that needed a surround of bubble wrap lest she break. She was grateful for his support, the comfort of his arms, it meant the world to her.

But Ali wondered how long he would want to keep it up. Being hounded by Jack Blackhorne took its toll. Ali knew from first-hand experience.

At some point, her situation would bore Sam and he would want to move on. She worried that time could be now. He was home, back in the fold of his family and friends. Back to his old routine, like going clubbing with his cousin. Since the news of the interview broke, Sam had held her, yes, but besides that, he had barely touched her. Had his interest in her waned?

Sam's confession in the elevator caught her off guard. Sam wasn't looking to get rid of her, he wanted to mark his territory. He wanted the world to know that they were together. In a permanent form, a picture, that would forever link them together, if only in the digital world. It was crazy but, the gesture made her happy.

The dancing and the fantastic sex in the bathroom made her elated. Sam was such a passionate lover and every experience with him was beyond her wildest dreams. He directed their sexual interactions but never demanded anything of her. He was open with his requests, yet always considerate. It was as if he could anticipate her needs, read her body and soul like a book.

Ali was pretty sure that she could read Sam now. He was drunk. Every motion was slightly exaggerated, and he was leaning to one side, almost in his cousin's lap. Charlie wasn't fairing any better, but his date for the evening could not have seemed less concerned, still concentrating on the glowing screen in her hand.

"Emily, these boys look like they're done for the night."

Emily chuckled beside her. "I think you're right my friend."

Ali gave Emily's hand a little squeeze. Maybe it was the Champagne talking, although Ali was pretty sure she had sobered up at this point, but Ali didn't want to leave without expressing herself. "Thank you so much for coming out tonight. It means a lot to me. More than you could possibly know."

"Hey. It's been a while since I had an opportunity to get all dolled up." Ali wondered at the truth behind that statement. This woman should be out every night, being adored by a line up of men if this evening was any indication. Yet Emily had rebuffed every attempt for anything male or female, aside from their group to even get near her.

"Well, you look damned hot. I don't know why you aren't taking one of these handsome hunks that are drinking you in home tonight."

Emily raised her hand to her necklace and rubbed the charm there. Ali noticed this was a habit of hers. "Oh, not my style."

Ali leaned over and whispered in the other woman's ear. "There's a story there. And someday I hope you'll tell me all about it."

Pulling back Ali referenced her necklace.

An emotion filtered across Emily's face before it relaxed in an almost sad look. "I'd like that."

"I'll call you." Ali gave the red-head a quick hug.

"Now," she announced loudly, "it's time to get my man home." Walking over to Sam, Ali positioned herself on Sam's lap, ruffling his blonde hair before wrapping her arms around his neck. "Sorry to break this bro banquet up Charlie, but I'd like Sam to take me home now."

Sam grasped her by the waist and placed his head on her shoulder. He mumbled something about wishes and wants that Ali didn't quite catch. Picking up the bottle in front of him Charlie demanded one more round. Reaching out, Ali plucked the bottle from his hands.

"You've had enough." Charlie's eyes narrowed as if trying to focus on something. Was that a look of respect she saw for a moment? Ali wasn't sure. "Tasmine – time to go."

At the sound of her name, the girl who had ignored them most of the night uncurled herself from where she was sitting and pouted. "Yes, Charles...I want to go too." The man in question flailed at her as if to say go away.

"Here Tasmine, let me help you get him to the car." Emily offered, stepping in to pull Charlie to his feet. Tasmine looked quite happy to let Emily do all the work.

Ali turned back to Sam who was slipping his hand up her thigh, underneath her dress. "You feel so good," he growled. Kissing his forehead through a wide grin, Ali pulled herself away from her lover and tried to get him on his feet as well. It took a few tries.

Getting Sam into his suit jacket was a herculean feat in and of itself but eventually, they achieved it. Sam was babbling the whole time about the advantages of short skirts. Ali reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and placing Sam's finger on the right spot, unlocked it. She quickly found their driver's contact info and typed out a message to come to meet them at the back door.

Just like the elevator ride up, the journey down was comprised of Sam's chatter, but this time it was the happy prattle made up of defending his cousin, touting that he had a good heart and was a man of honour, just hiding it well.

Nodding in agreement here and there, Ali tried hard to suppress her laughter. She hadn't really ever seen him inebriated before. Turns out her boyfriend was a happy drunk. Not surprising given his normally amiable personality. It was simply amplified by alcohol. Ali was delighted to see Sam so carefree. Seems they had both needed this night out.

The night had turned chilly and the cold hit them when they exited the club. Sam pulled Ali close to him to shield her from it as they dashed for the car which was just pulling up. Opening the door, Sam tucked Ali in. She was about to scoot over, making room for him when the door abruptly closed.

Craning her neck to follow Sam, she watched as he rounded the back but then stopped. There were a few straggling paparazzi hanging out and Sam was shaking their hands and patting them on the back. What was he doing? Ali grasped the handle to go back out into the crisp air and try to steer Sam back on track when he parted from the group and made for the car.

Plopping into the seat beside her, Sam rubbed his hands together, trying to get them warm. "Man, it's cold." His speech was clearer.

Perhaps the cold had sobered him up a little.

"What was that about?" Ali enquired as the car started to move.

"What?" Sam looked at her quizzically.

"Umm, talking to the press back there?"

"Oh," Sam shrugged. "I don't know. They looked cold and lonely. I just wanted to...be nice." His voice trailed away at the end as if he was embarrassed.

Ali regarded her prince. For that was what Sam was, in her eyes. So full of kindness, even for strangers standing in the chilly night. Once again, she thanked her lucky stars for bringing him into her life.

Positioning herself so that she was straddling Sam, Ali took his hands, placing them on her thighs. Before taking his mouth with hers, she suggested, "Let's see if we can warm you up, my love."