The Reckless Collision

Chapter Fourteen

I sat up just enough to tug off my sweater, tossing it aside. He didn't stop me this time. My heart raced as I lifted his shirt. He hesitated, but then he helped me pull it over his head. My fingers traced the ink on his chest, following the curves of his tattoos like they held the answers to the questions swirling in my head.

I kissed his neck, trailing upward until our mouths met again. His hands roamed over my back, trembling slightly as he cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over the fabric of my bra. A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt his breath hitch. I moved my hips against him, my fingers finding the buckle of his pants.

"Sam," he breathed against my lips, his voice strained.

"Ray," I whispered back, fumbling with the metal clasp.

"We should stop," he said, his lips brushing my collarbone.

I pulled back just enough to look at him. "Do we?" My voice came out softer than I intended, shaky and uncertain.

He leaned up, cupping my face with both hands. His eyes searched mine, and I saw hesitation flicker in them. "I want you, Sam. I really, really do. But I don't want to rush this."

I blinked at him, confused. "So... going on tour with you isn't rushing, but having sex is?" My words wavered, somewhere between teasing and serious.

Ray let out a low laugh, resting his forehead against mine. "I'll explain everything," he said, his voice steady. "But first, you have to put your sweater back on."

I blinked again, this time more skeptical. "Why?"

His lips twitched into a sheepish grin. "Your boobs are distracting me. I can't think straight."

"Really?" I asked, narrowing my eyes but feeling a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I leaned closer, giving him a better view of my cleavage, his eyes stayed glued to my boobs for a long moment.

"Really." He nodded solemnly, though his eyes betrayed his amusement as he looked at my face.

With a dramatic sigh, I climbed off him and reached for my sweater. "Fine," I said, slipping it back over my head. I tossed his shirt at him, shaking my head as I sat down beside him on the bed.

"Thank you," he said, pulling his shirt on with a smirk. He looked at me, then glanced away, the faintest flush creeping up his cheeks. "I guess it comes to the way I view sex," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

I tilted my head, studying him. "What is?"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "The reason I keep stopping us."

"Go on," I prompted, crossing my arms.

Ray bit his lip, then finally met my gaze. "I just... I've never wanted anyone like I want you. It's not just physical, Sam. It's... everything. And I don't want to screw this up."

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of me. For a moment, I just stared at him, my heart hammering. Then I smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"You're not screwing anything just yet," I said with clear intent in my voice, he smiled wickedly. "But you do realize you owe me a proper explanation, right?"

Ray's shoulders relaxed. "Yeah."

And just like that, the tension between us dissolved, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sound of our quiet laughter.

"Go on," I said, motioning with my hand for him to continue.

Ray shifted uncomfortably, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "People view sex in different ways, I guess the main one being—pleasure, and I am not denying that part. But I just see it as being more, it's literally being inside someone else's body, and it's quite beautiful in a way. I am no saint but I feel it requires trust from both people, trust to let someone in, completely. I don't do halfways, if I am in, I am in—body and soul." I felt stunned, admittedly I never view sex that way, but I kinda saw his point.

I reached for his hand, intertwining my fingers with his. "So, does that mean you don't trust me?" I asked softly, though a part of me already knew the answer.

"In certain ways, I do," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "I had only two serious girlfriends, and I don't mess around, it takes time to trust someone. Courtney—she betrayed me so badly, and it took me a long time to get over it. It's just hard for me to trust someone new." His voice softened, and he lifted my hand, pressing it against his hot cheek. "I know it's not fair to you, and I'm working on my trust issues."

I gave him a small smile and leaned forward to kiss him. "Thank you for sharing," I murmured against his lips. "But now you've got me curious. What exactly did she do to you?"

Ray opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say a word, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting instantly. "It's Logan. I have to take this," he said, standing up quickly.

I watched as he answered the call, his tone shifting to something more professional. Apparently, his bandmates were downstairs waiting for him in the car. They were heading to San Diego to film a new music video, and they'd swung by to pick him up.

Ray dressed quickly, his movements efficient but hurried. Before I knew it, he was at the door, turning back to give me a quick, apologetic smile. "I'll call you later, okay?"

I nodded, watching him leave. For the first time in days, the apartment felt empty, almost too quiet. With nothing else to do, and Molly still at work, I decided to take a bubble bath. I grabbed my phone and a book before sinking into the warm water. For a while, I let the heat relax me, but it didn't take long before my mind wandered back to Ray.

He'd been honest about his past—more honest than I'd expected. And yet, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I wasn't being as open with him as I should have been. I hadn't told him about Tom.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the tub as the familiar guilt washed over me. Tom was a part of my past that I kept running from, yet he always seemed to pull me back in. That was the real reason I hadn't told Ray about him. How could I, when I wasn't even sure I was ready to let Tom go?

I stared at the ceiling, the steam from the bath blurring my vision. I liked Ray. More than that, I could see a real future with him. But before I could give us a real chance, I needed to face Tom one last time. After that—before our first official date—I'd tell Ray everything.

The sound of my phone ringing jolted me from my thoughts. I must have drifted off because the water was cold, and the bubbles had long since disappeared. Groggily, I grabbed the phone and squinted at the screen. Uncle John's name flashed across it.

I answered, the conversation brief but to the point. He needed money—again. After hanging up, I climbed out of the tub, wrapped myself in a towel, and headed to the bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I felt a familiar pang of guilt. John called it a loan, but I knew better. This wasn't the first time he'd asked for money since I inherited everything. He wasn't the only one who'd expected to cash in on the inheritance, but he was the one I couldn't say no to.

Michael's voice echoed in my mind, as clear as if he were standing beside me:

"For my sons, I have to tell you I love you. One of you used my money and built a glorious business, and I'm proud of you, Richard. You, John, never appreciated my good heart, and when I cut you off, you just used your mother's love for you. That's why, my dear Rose agreed that our entire wealth should go to my sweet Samantha. She will know what to do, and she deserves it. You, my dear sons, will have to accept that."