Chapter 18
EJ crept across the carpet to the window he'd entered from. Stooping, he tugged his sneakers back on, hurriedly putting the rest of his clothing back to rights. Pausing in front of the pane of glass, he winced, using one hand to pull at the mess inside his jeans, the stiff stickiness gluing his boxers to his groin in a most unpleasant manner. The wince morphed into a grin and unable to stop himself, he reached up with both hands, using utmost caution to slide the curtains open, flooding Samantha's room with moonlight, the curtain rings on the rod not making a sound. Chancing a look back, his heart flip-flopped at her image.
Sprawled across the plush white bedding, her black gown and tangled mass of blonde hair repainted the picture of the tipped bottle of ink he'd compared her to when he'd arrived at her window, spreading onto an unmarred surface. Unapologetically, a splash of ink owned whatever it came into contact with. He blinked, a lurch in his chest stealing his breath, the analogy apt. He had the distinct impression that the canvas of his own life had just been irrevocably altered. The addition of Samantha, a design and vibrant swirl of color onto his personal landscape.
His phone buzzed in his pocket again, a continuous vibration alerting him to an incoming call. Shit. A ringing phone in the wee hours of the night is never a good sign. A shiver skated down his spine as EJ forced his eyes back to the initial goal of the window. He bent and pulled, thanking his lucky stars when it opened with a relative absence of sound.
The mere second of satisfaction evaporated when the door handle to Sami's room jangled, followed by a soft tapping against the wood. He froze, one leg through the window, his large body straddling the frame.
"Sami?" a distinctly male voice hissed through the door. "Sami, are you still awake?" The handle shook again. "Why is your door locked?" A light tapping of a hand against wood, preceded the repetition of her name.
EJ's eyes swung to the door, jealousy surging white-hot through his veins. He darted his eyes back to the bed where she hadn't so much as twitched in response to the noise. The vibrating in his pocket stopped for a moment before immediately beginning again. Bloody Hell.
He tried to rationalize that if someone was calling her name and knew where her bedroom was, plus the fact that that whomever was speaking obviously knew that she didn't normally sleep with her door locked...it must mean they were related. The man at her door, at the very least, was familiar with the family, a servant perhaps.
The green-eyed monster roared that no man not related to her, with the notable exception of himself, should know anything about the sanctuary of her boudoir or her sleeping habits. Yet, the now ceaseless buzzing in his pocket and a much more powerful sensation of foreboding compelled him to pull himself further out and onto the balcony outside her window. Regaining his footing, he turned back, to hazard one more look at his Sleeping Beauty. With heavy hands, and a much more weighted down heart, he clutched the curtains and brought them back together, blotting out his view. Closing the window with his fingertips once more hitched onto the metal base of the window, he snagged his phone and flattened himself to the wall.
He saw Knox's name on the screen and hit the green icon, he wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear. "What?" he whispered.
"Marco." The one word reply effectively doused him with a cold wave of reality.
"Coming." EJ replied, ending the call and shoving the phone back into his pocket.
Later that morning...
"Another day. Another limo ride. Ahhh, Papa D, can you just adopt me?" Knox teased, popping the button of his suit coat free with practiced ease before tucking both hands behind his neck and reclining into the buttery soft leather upholstery. On the long side seat, Knox sat alone, turning his head to look back at the other two occupants sharing the passenger space with him.
"Haven't I done that already, Lennox?" Stefano drummed his fingers against his knee, an unusual nervous display from the grand master of all things concise and calculated.
"No, trust me, that I would remember. This is the life." Knox missed nothing, catching Stefano's unintentional movements. Neither did he miss the storm that brewed in EJ, nor the eerie silence that had taken hold since they'd returned back to the DiMera mansion with Marco in tow several hours earlier. Currently, EJ sat to Stefano's right side, gazing sightlessly out the heavily tinted window at the passing landscape. Marco was riding shotgun in the driver's compartment, his presence no doubt, at least partially fueling EJ's pensive mood. Nevertheless, striving for a modicum of normalcy, Knox allowed his trademark smile to split his face, deep grooves dimpling his cheeks.
"Hah." Stefano barked, shaking his head. "You act as if you're a penniless pauper. I know better. The Preston family, your family, is quite well off in their own right."
"True. But," Knox winked, "that is Europe. This is America. Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. Baseball, apple pie, mmm," he licked his lips. "American girls." He paused, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Home of the Free, indeed."
"You're incorrigible." Stefano huffed, shaking his head, a chuckle echoing from his barreled chest.
Knox shrugged, his smirk firmly in place. "Also true."
Heavy, the silence stretched for a few moments before Stefano leaned forward, patting Knox on the shoulder, garnering his immediate attention. "You are just as precious to me as my own blood." Gruff and thick with emotion, Stefano caught Knox's gaze, the expression gleaming from deep within the liquid chocolate irises.
EJ relaxed, a smile tipping his lips at his father's unwavering acceptance and obvious affection for his best friend. Even though he wasn't watching, he could feel the warmth radiating from the pair.
"So, you are paying attention." Stefano remarked.
"Of course." EJ replied, shifting in his seat, to give them his full attention.
"Care to share what's on your mind?"
"Not particularly." EJ replied.
Simultaneously, Knox quipped, "Apple pie," with a huge shit-eating grin and a throaty, satisfied groan.
"Ah, yes." Stefano chuckled, bringing his fingers to his mouth, smacking his lips. "Tasty American girls."
Knox burst out laughing, holding his hand up toward Stefano. "Yes! Up top, Papa D!"
Stefano returned Knox's high five, the clapping of their palms together muted by their raucous laughter. EJ's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, shock mingling with distaste. He shook his head and returned his attention to the scenery streaking by the window, wishing he was almost anywhere else.
"Awww, come now, Elvis. Surely you don't think that you boys have the market cornered on appreciation for cunnilingus." Stefano's delivery of the line, so matter-of-fact, that Knox was now howling with laughter, clutching his middle with both arms.
"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Knox hooted. "Say it loud! Say it proud! Cunnilingus! You're a legend, Papa D!"
"Please, no!" EJ groaned, covering his flushed face with his hands. "Don't ever say it again. Ever."
"Oh-ho-ho." Stefano laughed, thumping his son's thigh with his smack heated palm. "Come, come, my son. The mastery of oral talent is just as important as money, especially at your age."
"Kill me now." Sending dark telepathic thoughts to Knox, EJ shook his head, trying to clear the pornographic memories of Samantha in his mouth from the forefront of his mind. "I'm going to pretend we're talking about manipulation and word play. Defeating our opponents with verbal missiles."
"Don't disinherit him, Papa, he doesn't mean it. What he meant to say was masturbation and tongue play. Besting the fairer sex with oral assault, it's easy to slip up. If you know what I mean." Knox's infectious laugh rang out again, mingling with Stefano's.
"Gah!" EJ covered his ears.
"Don't mind him," Knox waved in EJ's general direction with one outcast arm. "I'm an avid pupil. Tell me all your secrets." He rested his chin on the heels of both hands, fluttering his eyelashes in Stefano's direction.
Stefano threw his head back, wiping tears from his eyes as a full-bodied belly laugh rocked his body. EJ glared at Knox, who delivered a very distinct wink before giving Stefano all of his attention once more.
EJ sighed internally, all his discomfort vanishing when he realized that as usual, Knox was covering for him. A questionable topic of discussion, to be sure, but highly effective in steering his father away from talking about what they were walking into or about what had occurred the previous night. They were going to meet his bride and he'd have to somehow quietly explain to her sister that she was really the one he wanted.
"Sami, you decent?" A knock accompanied the question.
"Is this a rhetorical question?" She asked, sitting cross legged in one of the armchairs, situated by the window EJ hadn't used to climb in and out of her room through. Her phone was in one hand, but her avid attention centered on the pair of socks that he'd left behind. Flashbacks of the previous evening and night flipped through her mind on a near continuous loop. Her cheeks heated from memories of her wanton behavior and EJ's response. She wondered when he would call, prayed for it and was apprehensive about it, in equal measures. Her stomach was twisted up in knots as it was and now, she was avoiding going down to a command breakfast, to deal with whatever bullshit her mother had threatened her with the evening before.
"Are you naked?" He amended.
"Nope." She looked down at the ivory linen top, a high neckline and cap sleeves. It was paired with matching capris that her mother had dictated she wear. "I almost wish I was though. I look like a short stumpy candle."
"A short stumpy candle?" The door opened, her twin brother Eric popping his head around it, before he rounded into the room, pulling a face. "Oh. Ouch, Mom picking out your clothes again?"
"Yep." Sami gestured to her monotone coloring. "I think I'll dump orange juice on myself as soon as I sit down."
"Good plan." He nodded, closing the door and making his way to sit in the match to her chair. "So, your door isn't locked anymore." He remarked, hooking one foot on the opposite knee. Meanwhile, a carbon copy of her own blue eyes, lasered in on her.
"What?" She scrunched her nose, tipping her head to the side, confusion evident.
"Last night, your door was locked."
Sami felt dizzy, her blood draining from her face even as her heart began to pound. "What do you mean my door was locked? When?" What? I know when my door was locked. But the real question is, how does he know it was locked? Oh shit! The jolt of anxiety hit her so fast it was as if a small swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, the fluttering of their wings making her queasy.
"I came to talk to you last night after I got home. Wanted to check on you, I'd heard about what happened. Wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you alright?" Focused, Eric waited for her response.
I can't lie to Eric. He is my twin, he will know. Fuck! "I don't want to talk about it." She crossed her arms over her chest, almost as if she were trying to hold those butterflies at bay, while redirecting her eyes down to look at the screen of her phone.
"Fair enough." Eric nodded, hopping to his feet, seemingly satisfied by her evasion. He held his hand out for hers. "Mom sent me up here to get you. Our guests have arrived."
"Great." Sami sighed, grabbing onto his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Let's get this over with."
Eric chuckled as they left Sami's room and traversed the stairway together. He waited until they were right outside the formal dining room that she guessed they'd be entertaining in this morning, before he spoke again. "So I get that you don't want to talk about last night, and that's fine. You don't have to, but did you know that neither of our sisters were in their rooms when I got home?" He twirled a tendril of the loose waves of her hair around his finger, finally meeting her eyes again, before whispering his next question, "Hmmm...so tell me Goldilocks, was your door locked because someone else was trying out you and your bed to see if it was just right?"
Sami swallowed, the proverbial deer in the highlights expression frozen on her face. Apparently, Eric didn't require an answer to his question, because he opened the door to the dining room, gesturing her to precede him inside. Her momentary relief, this time being spared from thinking up a reply to her brother's leading questions, only lasted as long as it took for her to enter the dining room.
With her first footsteps inside, her eyes immediately found his. EJ DiMera. The memory of their conversation the night before hit her with the finesse of a Mack truck.
"If you only knew..." "I don't want to know." "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you'll feel differently." "Then let me feel differently...tomorrow." "I need to tell you..."
Sami understood in a rush. She felt, boy how she felt.
She felt the burn of tears on the inside of her eyelids. Felt her cheeks heat with a furious but embarrassed flush. EJ DiMera, the man who had made her feel so much, who had made her cum on his face just a few short hours ago, stood just ten feet away. He was dressed for a Sunday morning brunch in a charcoal grey suit that fit him to perfection, that made her feel too. She stopped short, pressing her thighs tightly together and praying that the ugly blouse her mother had picked out, would disguise the way her nipples reacted to seeing him again.
However, that was a short-lived feeling as well. There, clutching onto his arm for dear life, was her little sister. Now, she felt the urge to throw things and hurt people. But the worst, was yet to come. Standing in front of them was her mother and EJ's father and the words Stefano spoke, made her feel most of all.
"And then, bella mia...we will truly be famiglia. Elvis and Isabella will be married, uniting us for life."