Devil's Whisper Chapter 78: A Little Too Close

Samuel raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a skeptical smile. "That so?" His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it that made her stomach tighten.

He set his coffee down on the table and moved closer to her, close enough that she could smell his aftershave—sandalwood and something distinctly him. It was a scent that once filled her with comfort but now only heightened her unease.

Kate set her coffee down on the small table beside her and crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall. The defensive posture wasn't lost on either of them. "Do you think I'm hiding something?" She tried to keep her voice light, casual, but her heart was hammering in her chest.

Samuel's eyes locked onto hers, a little too serious for a casual visit. The playfulness that usually danced in those brown depths had been replaced with something more vulnerable, more raw. "I don't know. I just…"

He paused, looking as though he was weighing his words carefully. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit she'd always found endearing. The rain outside had intensified, drumming against the roof in a steady rhythm that filled the silence between them.

"You're spending a lot of time with Jason. More than usual. It's making me... jealous."

Kate's stomach flipped. She wasn't expecting that. She could hear the faint edge in his voice, and it caught her off guard. She couldn't help but thinking about the kiss earlier with Jason, although she stopped at last, but it was still a big mistake. The memory of it burned in her mind—Jason's hands cupping her face, the brief moment when she'd leaned in before pulling away, the look of understanding and disappointment in his eyes. It had meant nothing, she told herself. It was just the case, the stress, the late nights—it didn't mean anything.

"Jealous?" she asked, half-laughing, though there was no humor in her voice. She walked closer to him, her brows raised. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, adding to the tension that filled the small space between them. "Samuel, it's just the case. You know that."

She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. The touch was meant to be reassuring, but it felt like an apology—for what had happened with Jason, for the distance between them, for all the things she wasn't saying. Her eyes met his, searching for the understanding that had always been there before.

"Do I?" Samuel asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. He didn't pull away from her touch, but he didn't lean into it either. "Because lately, it feels like there's something you're not telling me. And I'm trying to give you space, Kate, I am. But I can't help feeling like I'm losing you to this case... or to him."

The raw honesty in his voice made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him everything—about the case that was keeping her up at night, about her suspicions that went beyond what the evidence showed. But most of all, she wanted to tell him that despite that momentary lapse with Jason, it was Samuel who anchored her, who made her feel safe in a world that increasingly made no sense.

Instead, she stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. Her hand moved from his arm to his face, her thumb tracing the stubble along his jaw. "You're not losing me," she whispered, the words both a promise and a plea. "I'm right here."

She leaned in a little, keeping her tone light, almost playful. "I kind of like that you care so much."

She let her eyes linger on his face, watching the flicker of frustration soften into something more tender. The confession hung between them, shifting the atmosphere from tense to intimate. The sound of the rain provided a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation, cocooning them in this moment of vulnerability.

Samuel hesitated for a moment before his expression shifted, just a little. His jaw tightened, but there was affection in the way he looked at her. "You know how I feel about him. I don't like how close you two are getting."

Kate smiled, taking another slow sip of her coffee. The warmth of it spread through her chest, mingling with the conflicting emotions that swirled inside her. She could hear the familiar protective undertones in his voice, and while she understood them, she also knew Samuel. He trusted her, even if his masculine instincts sometimes took over. She took a step closer, letting her hand brush against his arm, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips.

"You don't have to worry about Jason," she said, her voice soft but teasing. She tried to ignore the flash of guilt that accompanied her words, the memory of that brief, impulsive moment that she'd been so careful to stop. The kiss had meant nothing—a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more.

Samuel's eyes softened, though there was still a hint of concern lingering there. The lamplight caught the flecks of amber in his dark irises, reminding her of all the times she'd gazed into those eyes, finding comfort and understanding. "I know. But...it's hard when I'm not around."

Kate let out a small, affectionate laugh. Her fingers trailed up his arm to his shoulder, feeling the familiar contours of his body. "I'm not exactly running off with him, Samuel. You can relax. But it's sweet, really," she added with a wink, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "You're jealous. It shows how much you love me."

Samuel gave a short laugh, though it sounded more like a resigned sigh. His hands found their way to her waist, a comfortable, possessive gesture that sent a subtle warmth through her. "Yeah, I suppose it does." He looked down at her, his gaze softening even more, the tension easing between them. The lines around his eyes crinkled with genuine affection. "I hate it when I feel like I'm losing time with you. I don't like it."

Kate smiled, reaching up to cup his face with her hand. The stubble on his cheek was rough against her palm, a sensation she'd always found comforting in its familiarity. "I get it. You're just lucky I like when you're a little possessive. It makes me feel special."

He sighed in response, pulling her close for a brief, but warm kiss on her forehead. The touch of his lips lingered on her skin, a silent claim that she didn't mind. The scent of him enveloped her—coffee, rain, and that subtle cologne that she'd given him last Christmas—creating a momentary bubble where the case, Jason, and all other concerns seemed distant and unimportant.

Kate’s breath caught as Samuel’s lips brushed her forehead, the warmth of his kiss sinking into her skin. His hands tightened on her waist, fingers pressing just enough to spark a shiver down her spine. She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze—those softened eyes now flickering with something deeper, hungrier. The air between them thickened, charged with unspoken want.

“Special, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. His thumb traced a slow circle against her hip, slipping beneath the edge of her shirt to graze bare skin. The touch was electric, igniting a flush that spread across her chest. “I can do better than that.”

Her lips parted, a teasing smile tugging at them. “Oh? Prove it.” The challenge hung there, daring him to close the distance.

Samuel didn’t hesitate. His mouth crashed against hers, firm and insistent, swallowing her soft gasp. The kiss was a clash of heat and need, his stubble scraping her chin as he deepened it, tasting her like he’d been starving for it. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt to pull him closer, the fabric bunching under her grip. His scent—coffee, rain, that damn cologne—flooded her senses, intoxicating her as his tongue swept against hers.

He backed her against the wall, one hand sliding up her side, skimming the curve of her ribs until his thumb brushed the edge of her bra. She arched into him, a quiet moan escaping her throat, and he groaned in response, the sound raw and primal. His other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head to claim her neck with a trail of open-mouthed kisses, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to her core.

“Samuel,” she breathed, her voice trembling with the edge of desire. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling in her haste to feel the hard planes of his chest beneath. He caught her wrist, pinning it above her head with a gentle but unyielding grip, his lips hovering just above hers.

“Not so fast,” he growled, his breath hot against her mouth. “I’m taking my time with you.” His free hand slipped lower, tracing the waistband of her jeans, teasingly slow, until her hips bucked involuntarily. He smirked, that possessive glint back in his eyes. “You’re mine tonight, Kate. Every second of you.”

His hand lingered at her waistband, fingers dipping just beneath the denim to trace the soft skin there, a maddening tease that made her squirm.

“Samuel,” she whispered again, her voice a plea this time. She tugged at his shirt with her free hand, desperate to close the last sliver of space between them. He released her wrist, letting her fingers finish their work on his buttons, and she shoved the fabric open, palms flattening against the warmth of his chest. His skin was taut over muscle, a faint sheen of sweat already forming, and she reveled in the way his breath hitched under her touch.

“Impatient,” he teased, but his own control was fraying—evident in the rough edge to his voice, the way his hands gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him. She could feel him, hard and insistent through the layers of clothing, and a fresh wave of heat pooled low in her belly. Her lips found his jaw, kissing along the scratch of stubble until she nipped at his earlobe, earning a low, guttural sound from deep in his throat.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his restraint snapping. In one fluid motion, he hoisted her up, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he pinned her higher against the wall. The friction of their bodies sent a shockwave through her, and she gasped, clutching his shoulders for balance. His mouth claimed hers again, fierce and unrelenting, while his hands roamed—sliding under her shirt, pushing it up to expose more skin to his greedy touch.

Her bra was next, his fingers deftly unhooking it with a practiced ease that made her arch closer. He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes dark and blazing as he took in the sight of her—flushed, breathless, undone. “God, Kate,” he rasped, voice thick with reverence and raw need. His hands cupped her, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks until she whimpered, her head tipping back against the wall.

“Don’t stop,” she managed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rocked against him, chasing the ache building inside her. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth descended, replacing his hands with a hot, wet kiss that drew a cry from her lips. The world narrowed to the heat of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, the way his grip tightened like he couldn’t get close enough.

Clothes became an afterthought—her shirt hit the floor, his followed, and soon denim was shed in a tangle of urgent hands and ragged breaths. He carried her to the couch, laying her down with a tenderness that clashed beautifully with the fire in his eyes. Hovering over her, he paused, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch achingly gentle for just a moment.

“Still jealous?” she teased, voice husky, her legs hooking around him to pull him down.

He grinned, a wicked edge to it as he pressed himself against her, the contact making them both groan. “Not anymore,” he said, and then he moved, slow at first, deliberate, until she was trembling beneath him, lost in the rhythm of their shared claim.

Samuel’s grin faded into a look of pure focus as he moved against her, the slow, deliberate rhythm giving way to something deeper, more urgent. Kate’s fingers dug into his back, tracing the flex of muscle as he shifted above her, each thrust sending a ripple of heat through her core. The couch creaked beneath them, a faint protest drowned out by the sound of their ragged breathing, the soft gasps and low moans that filled the space.

Her legs tightened around him, urging him closer, deeper, until the line between them blurred into nothing but sensation. His hands gripped her hips, tilting her just right, and she cried out, the sound sharp and unrestrained.

“Samuel—” His name spilled from her lips like a prayer, her body arching to meet him as the tension coiled tighter, a delicious pressure building at her center.

He groaned in response, his forehead dropping to rest against hers, sweat mingling on their skin. “Kate,” he breathed, her name a rough, reverent sound that sent a shiver through her. His pace quickened, driven by the way she clung to him, the way her nails bit into his shoulders, marking him as hers. The heat of him, the weight, the relentless friction—it was too much and not enough all at once.

She felt it cresting, that sweet, inevitable edge, and her hands slid to his face, pulling him into a messy, desperate kiss. His tongue met hers, hungry and wild, and it was the final spark she needed. The tension snapped, unraveling her in a rush of blinding pleasure that tore a shuddering moan from her throat. Her body clenched around him, waves of heat pulsing through her as she trembled beneath him, lost to it.

Samuel’s grip tightened, his breath hitching as he felt her come apart. “God, Kate,” he rasped, his voice breaking. He followed her over the edge moments later, a low, guttural sound rumbling from his chest as he buried himself deep, his release shuddering through him. His arms shook as he held himself above her, their bodies pressed together, slick and spent, hearts pounding in sync.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—tangled, breathless, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex and them. Slowly, he eased down beside her, pulling her against his chest as the world settled back into focus. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her spine, a tender contrast to the urgency of minutes before. Kate nestled closer, her cheek resting over his heartbeat, its steady thump grounding her as the afterglow wrapped them in a quiet haze.

Samuel shifted slightly, easing back just enough to meet her eyes, his chest still rising and falling beneath her hand.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he said, a new energy threading through his voice—excitement cutting through the languid haze that had settled over them. His skin was warm against her palm, the steady thud of his heartbeat a quiet anchor as their bodies remained pressed close on the couch.

Kate raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her gaze as it replaced the sated intensity of moments before. Her fingers lingered on his chest, tracing idly over the sweat-slicked skin. “Good news?”

He smiled, the faint lines of tension easing from his face as he reached toward his discarded jacket nearby. Fishing out a small envelope, he held it up—paper slightly damp from the rain, but the official-looking seal unmistakable.

“I’ve been selected for a specialist training program,” he said, his tone bright but edged with something unspoken. “It’s an overseas thing—advanced surgical training in Germany. Only a few people were chosen, and I’m one of them.” There were something in his voice she couldn't quite identify when saying the words.

Kate’s eyes widened, her bare shoulder brushing his. “Germany? That’s amazing! Congratulations, Samuel! You deserve it.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as he pulled her closer, but a flicker of hesitation shadowed his eyes. His fingers tapped a soft, nervous rhythm against the envelope.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice dipping. “But there’s a catch.”