Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers Emily Matthews (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📖

his net worth—playboy, Sam MacDonald. The same Sam MacDonald she would report to on Monday morning when she started her new job. Would he fire her right then? Could she plead temporary insanity?

It had all happened so fast. When she saw him at the bar, she’d recognized him immediately. Who wouldn’t? But then he’d spoken to her, and she’d nearly fainted. Having worked for his company for years, she knew a lot about him but had never actually met him. She’d had him pegged as a total rich guy douchebag, but she was wrong. Not once did he bring up who he was or even mention his last name—just pretended to be a regular guy. He seemed genuinely interested in helping her, and she thought it was nice that he asked her to dinner after finding out her cousin had ditched her.

They seemed to get along well over dinner, and when he asked to share her cab, she thought nothing of it. Even after he held her hand in the cab, she figured that was normal for him. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined what came next. Came next?

Her eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright. “Oh, shit!”

In her post-orgasmic haze, she’d failed to notice that Sam was still raring to go when she’d gotten dressed and all but pushed him out the door. Was that why he was limping? Oh, God. This was bad.

He would be pissed when he found out she knew damn good and well who he was, and could she blame him? It wasn’t that she set out to deceive him, but he’d never believe that.

Sam was notorious for keeping his private life very private. He’d been sued a few times by women claiming he was their baby’s daddy and twice by women claiming sexual assault. He never settled though, which she admired. He fought them all and won them all. The claims magically disappeared when the accusers found out they were getting a fight instead of an easy payout. And in every instance, it had eventually come out that the women had made up the accusations.

Through the company grapevine, she’d heard that he’d turned into somewhat of a recluse after the last accusation. Guess that was one hazard of being so rich. Some people only saw you as a way to cash out. She could sort of relate.

When he didn’t mention who he was or what he did, she figured maybe he just wanted to remain anonymous or needed a night off from being Sam MacDonald. So, she gave it to him. Technically, she didn’t lie to him. Well, unless you counted lies of omission. Then she was in trouble.

What would she say if he called? Oh, who was she kidding? He wasn’t going to call. Especially not after she sent him home with a hard-on.

She was getting worked up over nothing. Bigwigs like him weren’t responsible for showing around the new hires. No doubt he worked from home and took a lot of vacations. It would surely be months before she ever saw him again, and by then he would have long forgotten her. Tonight had been monumental for her but probably meant nothing to him.

Well, there was no sense in worrying about it. She had enough actual problems. No need to invent more.

She heaved herself from the comfy couch and changed into pajamas. Lying in bed, she replayed the evening over and over in her mind. After over three years of no sex, this was a hell of a way to break her dry spell.

She’d never felt such a strong sexual pull toward a man. The get-inside-me-now-or-I’ll-die feeling was foreign and so fierce it scared her. She wondered if it was Sam specifically or if she’d just gone too long and any man would have set her off. She wasn’t an experienced lover and wasn’t sure what to make of the new feelings.

She fell asleep knowing that while having sex with Sam MacDonald may have been one of the dumbest things she’d ever done, it was also, hands down, the most exhilarating.

***

Sam spent the uncomfortable cab ride home berating himself. He knew better than to have casual sex with someone local. She may not know who he was now, but it wouldn’t be long before she read an article or saw a news story and figured it out. Who knew what shitstorm would befall him then? Damn it. This was why he’d made the Rules. If he didn’t follow them, what good were they?

Sam, Jake, and Phil had come up with the Rules after a particularly nasty lawsuit several years ago. A woman who had aggressively pursued Sam tried to sue him in civil court for mental pain and anguish after their “breakup.” They’d gone out three times and had sex once. Ever since then, until tonight, Sam had religiously adhered to the carefully thought-out rules, devised to keep him out of trouble. The Rules were simple:

Rule #1: Do not sleep with any woman within a hundred-mile radius of home unless in a committed relationship or a release has been signed.

Rule #2: Do not date or sleep with any woman associated with the company or (especially) its competitors.

Rule #3: Do not date or sleep with any woman who does not have a net worth of at least two million dollars.

The Rules protected him to some degree, but they also made his love life a nightmare. Carefully assessing every potential date or lover was exhausting and took the spontaneity out of everything. He was tired of it. Sick of having to assume every woman was out to get him. Exhausted from being so cynical. How was he ever going to find love this way?

That was one reason he’d walked Annie to her doorstep. She seemed like a nice, classy, down-to-earth woman, and he wanted to get to know her. No one knew Jake and Sam were going to that particular bar. No one knew Annie’s cousin would be the woman Jake