Watch Me (Stepping Up 1)
The house was quiet, and he assumed Kiki was asleep. Either way, it didn’t matter. Kiki knew that he and Meagan were seeing each other. Probably everyone did, at this point. They hadn’t been exactly discreet in the bathroom during the storm.
Sam debated moving Meagan to the bedroom, but feared he’d wake her up and then she wouldn’t go back to sleep, especially considering Samantha had a way of getting noisy. And Meagan needed rest. She’d already told him she would have to go to the studio that day to edit this week’s show. He turned off the television and then settled onto the floor in front of her, back against the couch, stretching his legs out, exhausted and happy to rest his eyes.
He figured he’d steal Meagan away for breakfast when she woke up. Or just make breakfast. With that delicious thought on his mind, he dosed off, able to sleep in the most awkward of positions.
How long he slept he didn’t know, but the sun was up when he woke, and he could hear Kiki talking on her phone as she passed by in the hall behind the sunken living area, the setup blocking Meagan and Sam from her view.
“She’s asleep in her room,” Kiki said. “Right. I knew I had to call. It’s a wonder the kids weren’t hurt, Sabrina. No. No. Yes. I’m on my way now.” The door opened and shut, and she was gone.
Sam frowned. What was that? What the hell was that? He replayed the conversation, and though there was nothing that screamed foul play in the words, the very fact that Kiki was speaking with Sabrina set him on edge. And the tone of the conversation, something about it.
Sam quickly got to his feet, intending to call Sabrina, who he was still briefing about the Kiki issue. He’d interviewed ex-employees who’d worked with Kiki, and found more than a few who might not have spoken up before, afraid they’d never work again if they did, but they would now. A few key people he’d located had since moved on with their careers with enough confidence to help him. He’d been compiling quite the damning file, but for the kind of connections Kiki had, Sabrina kept pressing for more.
“Sam?” Meagan sat up, her hair a wild, sexy mess of light brown silk, her lids heavy, her voice groggy. “What’s wrong?”
Even when she was sleepy and barely awake, she worried, Sam thought. “Why do you always ask me that when you wake up?”
She blinked several times, as if trying to clear her head. “Well. Let’s see.” She was already sounding a bit feisty, he noted with amusement as she continued, “While I’m not beyond admitting that I tend to worry obsessively about almost everything, I think I have ample reason to do so under the circumstances. A tornado, an electrical fire, a knocked-out tooth, and a long list of other problems—all pretty good reasons to worry. In fact, when I list them, I can buy into the curse a lot easier than I’d like to.”
He bent down on one knee in front of her. “There’s no curse to a show that brought us together, and I’m going to prove that to you before this season is over.”
She visibly relaxed, her expression softening. “Promise?”
He brushed a wild lock of sleek brown hair off her brow. “Promise.”
“You’re making a lot of promises. I hope you intend to pay up.”
“Well now,” he said, his hand sliding up her leg. “Since Kiki just left, we are alone.”
Her brows dipped. “Kiki left? This early? That’s odd.”
He kissed her, not about to put her on edge about Kiki when it wasn’t necessary. He would have the answer to the problem very soon. “It’s all fine, Meg. And did I mention…”
A slow devilish grin slid onto her incredibly sexy mouth. “What do you have in mind?”
He set Samantha down on the floor and scooped Meagan up into his arms, Tarzan-style. “I have a story to tell you.”
He carried her to the bathroom, stripped them both naked and pulled her with him under the hot water of the shower. They both sighed with relief, and their bodies melded together, tension melting into attraction, into desire.
Sam leaned against the wall, molding her close, kissing her, taking his time to savor her. She was soft in his arms, her breasts full and tempting, her nipples hard peaks against his chest. And he wanted inside her, wanted to lose himself in her, wanted to claim this woman as his own, and wished it were that easy. But he didn’t want to lose her, he didn’t want to pressure her. And he darn sure didn’t want the sex to be her escape rather than an extension of what he felt for her, what he hoped she felt for him.