Almost I Love You
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
A long, relaxing bath feels heavenly. An excellent use of my time. There's no point in rushing, as
Sam prowling the club will take at least an hour. It's that or an all-nighter, there's little to no middle
ground. Still, a girl can hope for the former.
Fluffy towels wick away moisture and I pull out my exclusive blend of botanical oil I have made in
a little boho boutique in Brooklyn specifically to be non-offensive to a lover's sense of taste. It's
expensive and luxurious and makes me smell like a warm garden in summer, if I don't say so
myself. Every square inch from the neck down is oiled up, right to edge of the nethers. That stays
au-naturale, thank you very much.
Taking care of some other grooming lets the light oil soak in and I reach for my light bathrobe,
pausing when I hear a noise.
Oh goody! No robe it is then.
By the time Sam frames herself in the bedroom doorway, I'm maintaining a negligent lean against
the corner by the bathroom.
Still in her 'work clothes' which today is a Burberry Check plaid men's-style shirt with the sleeves
rolled up, comfy skinny jeans and boots that hover between Harley-Davidson and 'shit-kicker', she
looks sexy and ready to brawl. Also, the half up, messy bun she'd pulled her hair into before
heading down to the club is still intact. Good, that means I can be reasonably certain she's not a
complete unhygienic mess, or her hair would be all over the place from restless fingers. Let the
games begin!
Eyes hot and interested, Sam advances, her muscles tense enough to make her body language
stalking as a lanky cat.
"Now, hold on there, Romeo," I tease, testing the waters, and lo and behold, Sam actually obeys.
We give and take in all facets of our lives together and sex is no different. "I have to say, I like you
like this, looking lean and hungry."
There's every reason to reward my Sammy's compliance and a long, slow kiss with my hands on
her wrists in gentle restraint is pure pleasure. A few tugs has her at the edge of the bed where I can
give her a shove to bounce down onto the soft surface. Oh, how I love that bamboozled look on her
face, her sharp, analytical mind shutting down in a flood of horny brain chemicals. Before she can
move, I bossily straddle her, trapping her arms against her sides and giving her a hell of a view.
"You know, I've never been strong enough to wrestle you down," I muse conversationally as
though I don't have her happily trapped between my thighs. I watch her face change as I smile slow
and predatory. "I bet Alex could."
It's a deliberate choice of words, echoing her teasing me earlier, building up that quick, hot fantasy.
I mostly like a dominant lover, but sometimes, a girl just needs to mix things up a bit, keep it spicy.
Sam likes it, even if she habitually squirms and fights her own delight.
This time, I've caught her off guard. Delicious.
Flicking my hair off to one side, I lean over her, pressing my whole upper body weight onto her
shoulders.
"You can't fool me, Samantha," is little more than a soft, provoking whisper in her ear. "All that
hardworking farm muscle has you a little hot and bothered too."
Someone less familiar with her might mistake Sam's often blasé attitude as vague disinterest. God
knows she's been disappointed by others in and out of the sack, but I know her language better than
anyone.
That little tremor and the faintest of catch in her breath is all the encouragement I need.
"She's so strong, hmmm? You'd never be able to squirm away. Maybe she'd let you grab those
sculpted arms, or hang from her shoulders while she fucked you. Oh, but would it be that easy?
You might have to convince her, whine and beg a little, because you certainly couldn't make her do
anything."
Yep, I've got her now, a faint whine strangled in her throat like a siren song! Very pleased with
myself, I slither down her body a bit and casually get to work on her shirt buttons, ignoring the
twitch of her hands trapped under me.
"I see you even went for the right theme today. This rugged look is sexy on you."
Halfway down, I pause to give her a sly look, not at all fooled by her innocent look.
"No bra, Sammy? Naughty."
A quick caress and a pinch to those perky tits makes her hips jump, before I return to the buttons.
"You're cute when you fight how you want it, baby, but you know I'll take good care of you."
Sam is one of the strongest people I know, despite her scars, and I am happy to reassure her when
the opportunity is there. Particularly when she lets herself be vulnerable, which isn't often.
Caressing her flat belly, I test the waters out a bit more.
"We could have so much fun, hmm? My soft and your lean to that sturdy workhorse of a farmer
and her rough hands…"
I'm getting myself all hot and bothered too. The plaid shirt is finally loose and I yank at it, tuck it
carefully around Sam's arms to trap her. Oh, if she wants to get away, she can, but that's not really
the point here, is it?
Pressing onward, I give her a hard pinch through the thick cotton of her jeans, relishing the way her
hips jump and she whines needily. I've run out of words and roughly yank open her jeans and strip
her to her knees. Her cries are as good as the thick, sticky wet of her I relish.
There's no point in being gentle and my neck and knees couldn't handle a lengthy fuck in this
position anyway, so I pin Sam's hips down and suck hard and steady. It doesn't take long to get her
shouting and squirming, the orgasm a jolt of release up and down the length of her.
Pleased with myself, I climb back onto the bed, doing my best to ignore my complaining knees.
Worth it!
Sam's half-hearted squirming to extricate herself from the shirt pauses when I once again straddle
her to pin down the wiggling. There's an edge of exasperation under the humor and hormones, but I
decide I can play for a little bit longer. Just as I had done before, my tone is causally conversational
at odds to our nakedness and frisking around.
"You know I'm still mad at you for comparing me to that hussy Alex had clearly been fucking."
There's a blink of surprise before Sam laughs uproariously, completely startled by my tart
comment.
"Yes, I can tell how offended you are."
There's a definite edge to her teasing that lets me know that I'm about to get flipped. Oh darn, poor
me. Sure enough, Sam wriggles athletically, unbalancing me with that damn traitorous giggle that
makes me sound like I'm a toddler. Leering maniacally, she strips off her shirt, pants and shoes
while I scoot up the bed to be more comfortable.
"Are you jealous, Lena?" Sam teases me before bringing her naked self to bed. Really, it's hard to
be petulant when she's being cute… and right.
"No! …Fine, maybe a little."
I can't stay sulking when she does that to my neck, familiar touch wandering over my curves.
"Now, you don't know that the lady with the hot car isn't just some fling. The body language was
more playful than possessive."
My reply is more breathless than tart, but I have to at least make the attempt! "How does that mean
anything? You're like that and we're practically married."
The thrum of chuckle is as warm as her voice against my skin. "True. You'll have to take my word
that it's nothing serious. When she's serious, it must be a firestorm, hmm? Being the focus of all
that attention and fire? Because she definitely seems the sort to be attentive, hmmm?"
With all the teasing me over the weekend while the girls had been home, my fuse has been primed
past 'hussy' and peaked out at 'horny'. That little romp on the couch by no means cooled me off!
Still I'm in for more teasing because this is Sam.
"Oh yes…"
From that first night years ago, my lead employee running me, the new boss, through the liquor
inventory and a few specialty drinks until the little test sips had us both drunk and giggly, Sam has
known the secret locks to my body. Standing close, far too close, she waited for me to close the
gap. She tasted of lemonade, the booze a discrete note mixed in with the earthiness that is hers and
hers alone.
I would know her taste and touch, even blind.
With neither of us living at the building then, the romp had been an athletic fuck against the wall
that left me pleasantly bruised and loose.
That was also the night I found out about Ruby, because Sam wanted to linger, but had to go. I
have never begrudged Ruby coming first, nor will I ever. That worry over her daughter -and later
when I found out about the shithole apartment they were living in- was the final brick knocked out
of my wall of revenge.
It was also the first moment I knew I could love her.
A playful little chomp where Sam has managed to find a bit of extra softness near my hip jolts me
back from memories and I don't hold back the gasp and squirm she's after.
"You wandering off on me, baby?"
Rubbing at her scalp where she continues to mouth at my belly, I reassure her. "No. Just
remembering that first night we met." There's no missing that mischievous gleam in her eye and I
give her scalp a little yank. "Not my drunken stumble into you, brat."
That wicked chuckle vibrating against my skin is as sexy as her touch and kisses as Sam makes her
dawdling way downward. I writhe just like I always do becasue Sam is an amazing lover, even if
she sometimes does shit like that, the brat!
Still, I can't stop my squealing giggle at the fart-noise blast of air against my belly, followed up by
her devastating, wild grin. Neither of us had been able to be much in the way of children, making
up for that every day in playfulness. Pleased with herself, Sam settles between my spread legs and
sets in to give me some relief.
Of course, I have to writhe and beg and curse at her until she chuckles again, tripping me into
orgasm.
Anyone who lacks a playful lover has my pity.
Feeling far calmer now, I let my body settle and make grabby hands at Sam until she climbs up the
bed for cuddles. This is every bit as good as the sex, often better
"Do you think if I pay for their hay and some infrastructure, we can get more footage of her shirt
off?"
My deadpan catches Sam off guard and her delight peals out into our bedroom. How I love to make
Sam laugh and see her shadows fall away.
Fully relaxed now, I run a hand over the familiar, lanky lines of her long body.
"We're gonna get some mileage out of this, aren't we?" Sam teases back wryly and I echo her
laughter, tugging her into a kiss.
"We absolutely are! Now, come here."
The apartment is quiet as I stir and blink my eyes open to squint at the late morning sun. I love a
good lazy morning and a cuddle. Or at least what Sam's distinct version of a cuddle is.
Today is 'The Half-Starfish', her right arm and leg thrown nearly ninety degrees away from her
torso while the left side clamps me to her as though fearful she'll float away. Though better this
than being poked and flailed at while she sleeps with all the serenity of a thunderstorm. My
Samantha is a great many wonderful things, but peaceful isn't one of them.
When my gaze falls on the alarm clock beside the bed, my eyes widen.
When was the last time I slept for the better part of ten hours?
Probably when I was Lily's age.
If I ever meet Alex in person I'll have to find a way to thank her without giving any embarrassing
details. Unless Sam and I can enact a few fantasies with her, then she can have all the details she
wants!
I wallow for a bit in the warm blend of our bare skins and the memories of our wild romp of a
night. But more mundane needs prevail and I expertly tickle at her knee to release the deathgrip and
slip away.
Teeth, toilet and a good scrub are my agenda before anything else, because frankly, I'm a mess.
While I have entirely no complaints about how I got that way, a hot shower has me feeling human
again. A light camisole shirt with some built-in support, leggings and fuzzy socks get me comfy
because unlike the human power plant, I feel the weather changes! Sam doesn't feel a damn thing
unless its below freezing or hot enough to bake your brain. Even then, it barely fazes her.
Snowboots and shorts are not unheard of, and listening to her squeal about snow in her boots is
hilarious.
To shake off the body soreness of a pleasant overindulgence in sex and sleep, I head for the
balcony where my favorite sunning patch is. It's my favorite because I have a canopy rigged up
that blocks most of the death rays. I sunburn violently even for my pale complexion, to the point I
have to wonder if there aren't vampires somewhere on my family tree. Still, I'm cat enough to
enjoy the experience in my own way.
The sprawling apartment is a palatial haven eight stories up from the streets below, with Queens a
constant din around us. The nearby East River and Little Neck Bay are wide and slow where they
meet Long Island Sound, a jeweled glitter through the forest of buildings around us. I love the
energy here, the fast and slow of it, the sense of neighborhood that hangs on tenaciously even as
gentrification presses in.
That I'm a part of that does bother me… Still, I can't regret my life here, it's too precious.
Meeting Sam was a blessing in more ways than just meeting her. It meant this colorful
neighborhood and this grand building we've sweated over so much, and becoming my own person
in defiance of my heavy family name.
A rumbling stomach and the dull ache of caffeine deprivation sends me in. To my amusement, the
place is still echoingly empty. Good. Sam never sleeps enough and the scent of coffee will rouse
her eventually. That started, I browse the fridge and settle on some leftovers and miracle of
miracles, Lily actually left some fruit for the rest of us.
Holding a selection of fruit and containers of proteins, grains and vegetables, I'm struck again by
my utter lack of knowledge of the how and where of them. Naturally, my thoughts return to
Rainbow Haven Acres and the experiences I have been able to have with them through the internet.
The disappointment of this little family in missing the open house was not feigned. That the farm is
quite literally a continent away has no affect on the feeling.
And while the disappointment lingers, there is nothing for it. Still… perhaps there's something I
can do.
Just a few weeks ago, they were worried about feeding the diverse group of animals they have
collected. Did they solve the problem? I might not have a definitive answer, but I can at least
provide some assist.
Grabbing my laptop, I settle in with my brunch and pull up the homepage to search for
Rainbow Haven Acres. Viola! It's a nice page of friendly and familiar graphics, the original gang's
faces grinning at me in a group shot with spring ripe around them.
The pang of want is still an odd and somewhat uncomfortable as these people are strangers,
dammit!
There's a fascinating list of things they want to do, along with photos gleaned from the internet as
examples. There's a layout for needed drainage in several places, at least one more of the
greenhouse-coops that have been so successful for them, and something else that catches my eye.
A log house.
No one on Team Lanvers has ever shown video of the thick forest that is the massive northwest tax
lot, indistinguishable from the federal lands beyond it. For all I know, they themselves have never
ventured in there. But there are pictures of a rocky outcrop naturally clear of the towering
evergreens that surround it. Those photos rest beside internet examples of cozy rustic cabins and
the bolt of longing hits me hard.
Is this what Alex and Lucy felt like as they made audacious plans to just walk away from
successful careers and city life? For a disjointed moment, I pause and look around the amazing
apartment I share with Sam and our daughters, aware of the noise and chaos outside in a way I
rarely am.
It takes a moment to shake it off.
There's also plans for rehabilitating the pond, building a more permanent bridge, expanding crops
or projects into the old tree farm around the mini-airstrip, and most interesting, an aquaponics setup
that would support both plants and fish. Hmmm, I'm definitely going to come back to that.
The reward levels are fairly typical as I'm a regular to . Still, the cheek of Team Lanvers
shines through. I can almost hear Kara's familiar voice in, '$5- we will send a postcard to a
provided address. Please make it one where it will get to you, or some stranger is going to be
VERY confused.'
As the donations climb, I chuckle at the usual offers of buttons and t-shirts as well as moderately
pricey hand-decorated ostrich eggs. It's pretty obvious that the group doesn't expect anyone to
cough up any higher denominations than a few hundred bucks as the rewards get sillier. Still,
they're a clever bunch.
'$500- A group silly dance to the catchy song of your choice. Sobriety not guaranteed.'
'$1000- Alex will hug a kitten for you. Alternatively, a cat will substitute if a kitten is not available.
In an emergency, a lamb or possibly a chicken. (If you people knew the begging and pleading I had
to do for this one, believe me, a thousand is a deal. Still, she cannot resist the power of my pout
and relented at the addition of a zero. So there.)'
'$10,000- Alex dared me to put this completely unrealistic level here. I quote, "Kara! You're nuts if
you think some internet creeper is gonna cough up ten K!" (And, yes, I did have to 'beep' her out in
there. Shocking, I know.)
So, yeah, no creepers are welcome. Big sister said so.
However! If you're rich and NICE and want a somewhat rough around the edges glamping
weekend, we're your team! I'll just kick Alex out of the green house, or Lucy from the yurt, while
you visit. We'll provide room and board -and really, Nia is even a better cook than you know- for
up to four people for four days, and of course give you the full experience of the farm!'
Well, if that's not an invitation, I've never heard one. As impossible as these daydreams of the
homestead life are, perhaps I can arrange for a vacation for my family and some help for the
YouTube channel that has provided me with such delight.
Reaching for my phone, I don't even look at the speed dial and after a couple of rings, Jess picks up
with a cheery greeting and I put on my best coaxing tone.
"So how would you like to help me out with a crazy endeavor? I promise it's far less insane then
the one that landed us in this building."
"Lena, you would have to go to some lengths to outdo that madness," Jess teases dryly.
"Smartass. There's a rural vacation in it if you'd like to join me and my girls."
"Well that depends. How rural are we talking about here?"
Her hesitation makes me laugh. "We'll rent an RV when we get there. An enormous fancy,
comfortable one. How does that sound?"
"Okay, I'm not entirely horrified by the idea. What did you have in mind?"
And we settle in to plan.