“I know the feeling.”
He would have lowered his head to kiss her then, but her fingers slid into his hair. “Do you ever feel out of control, Sam?”
“When I’m not with you.”
“I’m serious,” she said.
“So am I, sweetheart. I’ve never had a woman twist me in knots like you can.”
“I don’t mean to do that to you.”
“Then stop pushing me away. Let me inside, Meg. Really let me in.”
“I don’t want to push you away,” she said. “But—”
He kissed her. “Then don’t. Just don’t. Be with me, Meagan.”
“I am, but—”
He kissed her again, a long stroke of his tongue against hers, before repeating, “Let me in, Meagan. Let go of just enough control to give me room inside your life. Everyone has to let go sometimes.”
“If everyone has to let go of control sometimes, when do you let go?”
“Whenever you say you want me to.”
She searched his face. “That easily? Just like that.”
“Sweetheart, your definition of control and mine are two different things. You don’t think I’ve given it up, but I have.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I not only can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you,” he admitted. “I don’t even want to try.”
“I feel the same way,” she said. “I do. I—”
His mouth came down on hers, hungry to claim her. Finally, she’d stopping fighting him, stopped pushing him away. This had never been about the chase with Meagan. It had been about this, about how good she felt in his arms, how good they felt together. He knew now that all those years that he’d sworn he wasn’t a relationship man, had been because he hadn’t met Meagan.
She moaned, her tongue meeting his, caressing his. Sam rolled on top of Meagan, feeling her delicate curves beneath him, his hand sliding down her hip, beneath her backside, to arch her against the thick ridge of his erection.
She murmured his name, pleading with him. He pulled back to stare down at her, to search her face. “I never believed one night was enough. Or two, or three, or—”
She leaned up and captured his lips with hers. “Me, either,” she said.
A wild frenzy of touches, kisses, and undressing followed. Until she was beneath him, naked and perfect. Until he was buried inside her, memorizing every inch of her beautiful, heavy-lidded stare. He saw the trust there, in her, but he knew instinctively, it was still fragile, still far too easily shattered.
19
MEAGAN HAD DONE just what Sam had suggested. She’d let go of control, let herself say what she felt, let herself just be with Sam. Even now, after they’d dressed again, her in her bikini and Sam in a pair of swim trucks he’d worn under his jeans, she sensed the newfound intimacy between them. A closeness that had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with making love.
Meagan sipped from her glass. “Thank goodness I told everyone to sleep in tomorrow,” Meagan said, the bubbles tickling her nose. “I have a feeling my head is going to pay for the sugar and champagne in the morning.”
“There’s a twenty-four-hour diner a mile up the road,” he said. “We could walk it.”
“With cheeseburgers?”
“I’m pretty sure any diner has a cheeseburger.”
“Then count me in,” she said, agreeably, reaching for her sandals and T-shirt as Sam did the same. That was when her eyes caught on the scar above his knee.
Her hand went to it, and he froze a moment, his shirt half over his head, the action telling her the injury was more of a sensitive spot than it was a physical injury.
“Does it bother you often?” she asked, as he pulled his shirt on. She remembered the way he’d rubbed it when they’d been in his truck the week before.
“I deal with it,” he said, repeating what he’d already told her.
She knew that all too well, thanks to a knee injury of her own that flared often. It hurt. “Will you tell me about it?”
“I was on a covert mission in enemy territory,” he said. “It wasn’t the bullets that got me, but the days without treatment. By the time I was back at camp it was a mess. I almost lost it.”
She could barely breathe thinking of how bad his leg must have been, and how devastating the outcome. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t mess with your head, Sam. You act like it’s nothing, but it is.”
“I had months of rehab to get my head right.”
No one just got their head right that quickly. A horrible thought hit her. He hadn’t dealt with his leg. He was going to eventually wake up and reject this new easy life, and her with it. She pulled her hand back from his leg, suddenly feeling burned, certain this thing with Sam was going nowhere good and not sure why that upset her so much. Why couldn’t this just be about sex anymore? She began to move away from him.
He grabbed her hand, gently holding her beside him, when she wanted to dart away. “Whatever you’re thinking, I can tell it’s not good. We’re talking about my leg, and you’re the one withdrawing and I don’t get it.” His eyes narrowed. “Am I damaged goods, Meg? Is that the problem?”
Her eyes riveted to his. “No. Oh God, no, Sam. It’s not like that. Your leg—if anything the scar is sexy and you’re more man than any I’ve ever known. And that’s exactly why I must seem silly to you, worried about dancing and ratings, when you’ve been off saving lives and protecting our country. Coddling me must be—”
He slid his hand into her hair. “I never coddle you. How could anyone ever coddle you? You’re way too tough for that. And there’s nothing silly about a dream.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “We’ve had this conversation. Dreams are what soldiers fight for. And your dream is personal to me now. You’re personal to me.”
“I believe you mean that. I do. I see nothing but honesty and directness in you, Sam, and that matters to me. It’s been part of what has made you so hard to ignore. Probably why I didn’t want you to talk to me and show me what I already sensed was there. But you had your life stripped away by an injury.” She looked away, unable to keep her eyes on him. “I know from things you’ve said to me that you weren’t ready to leave the army. You planned on that life being a career for you. And here you are, in the middle of all this superficial glamour.”
“And with a woman I really care about.”
“Sam,” she chastened. “I can’t...you have to understand that I...” Her voice broke.
“Don’t want to count on me if I’m not going to be here,” he said, accurately filling in the blanks. “Who let you down, Meagan? Who did you count on who let you down?”
Her lashes lowered, the confessions on her tongue, unspoken—of a dream of dancing, of a family who’d said her injured knee was proof she’d been on the wrong path.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said gently. “Not now, but I hope sometime soon you will. You’re right. The network isn’t for me long term.”
Her gaze lifted sharply, a knife jabbing her right in the chest. “I didn’t think so.”
“I have a plan. And that plan is probably why I’m okay with where I’m at now and will be in the future. I’ll be opening a private security business next year, when several of my former Special Force team opt out of re-enlistment. And my uncle, the one who works for the studio, is our primary investor. He fully intends to pull some of the Hollywood crowd as clientele and even move studio business.”
Relief washed through her. Sam wasn’t going to run off. Sam was invested in this world, in her world. Sam was Sam, and she liked everything that meant.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, but she really couldn’t hold it back. She kissed him, and it was a good thing that the diner was open twenty-four-hours because they’d managed to undress again.
Meagan and Sam shifted comfortably on the mattress. “You’ve been so polite lately,” he said. “We haven’t fought at all. You
’ve been full of thank-yous.”
“You complaining?” she challenged.
“Not at all,” he assured her. “In fact, I like the way you say thank you. So much so that I wonder if I can make you say it now?” He trailed kisses down her jaw, over her neck, until he suckled her nipples, teased them with his tongue and his teeth.
“No thank you yet?” he asked, lapping at a hard peak.
“Not yet,” she confirmed. “Right now, you’re just driving me crazy.”
“Hmm,” he said. He suckled again. “I like that.”
“I don’t.”
He raised his head. “No? I’ll see what else I can come up with.” He palmed her breasts and kissed a path down her stomach, until he was licking her, teasing her, in the most intimate of ways. And just before he pushed her over the blissful edge, before she happily said thank you, she made a vow.
“Just remember. One thank-you deserves another. Your time is coming.”
And the low masculine laughter that radiated against her clit, sent her tumbling into release. She’d never had a man bring her to orgasm in the midst of laughter, but then, there were a lot of firsts with Sam. And that made letting go feel a whole lot less scary.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, SAM reluctantly allowed Meagan to dress, but only because of her threat that she’d collapse if he didn’t feed her. He had this nagging feeling that as soon as they exited the tent, she’d run from him emotionally. He’d pushed her tonight, taken her from “don’t talk so I won’t like you” to someplace much more intense, much more long term, and he could see that she was wrestling with that wall of hers—which meant he was wrestling with that wall of hers.
They were just stepping out of the tent, into the cool air rising off the ocean, a high moon overhead, and he was looking forward to the diner, when his cell beeped with a text.
Displeased with the news and knowing she would be too, Sam glanced from the message to Meagan.
“I’m not going to get any food, am I?” she asked.
“Depends,” he said. “How do you feel about contestants getting to know each other in, shall we say, an intimate fashion?”
Meagan’s eyes went wide and she started walking toward the house. Sam immediately caught up with her. “I take it the answer is, you don’t like it. So the good news is that Josh broke them up. They weren’t happy but he stopped things before they got too out of hand.”
“Jensen and Tabitha?”
He cleared his throat. “And Rena.”
“Oh my God,” Meagan said, stomping through the sand. “This is forbidden in their contracts. Rena has nothing to lose, but the other two do. And Kiki knows it, but I can bet you she’s counting on those cameras we have rolling to tell all. How can I convince her that some facade of good ratings based on scandal will plunge within a few episodes and is not security, without turning her against me? American Idol and Dancing with the Stars didn’t build ratings off of who slept with who and who was fighting who.”
“Meagan, sweetheart—”
“I believe so strongly that we can’t go in this direction, even if the ratings please the sponsors. I shouldn’t have been away. I—”
“Oh no.” He shackled her wrist and pulled her to face him. “I see where this is going. Don’t even start coming up with reasons to make us wrong. We are not wrong, Meagan. You are not wrong by taking a few hours off. And you didn’t count on Kiki. You counted on Josh—on me, Meagan. Josh contained the problem, and he called us the instant there was trouble.”
She let out a breath. “I know and I appreciate it. I do. I really, really do.” She tugged on him. “But please come on. We have to hurry. I don’t want to lose someone I don’t have to lose over this.”
They took off towards the contestant house and with the beach lights on, it was lit up well enough to rival the Christmas Vacation house. Soon it was easy to see Carrie sat on the porch with Josh by her side, and Mel in her lap.
“Where are they?” Meagan asked anxiously.
“Beach,” Josh said, pointing to the water. “They took off when I told them they couldn’t share a bedroom.”
Carrie nodded.
“I’ve got this,” Meagan told Sam, and she sprinted away.
Sam watched her depart, and leaned on the railing to the steps. He eyed Carrie. “Good thing you entertained yourself with Mel and not Jensen.”
“That’s what I told her, too,” Josh said. “Life is way too short to bury yourself in a popularity contest.”
“The show makes it feel like a popularity contest,” Carrie said.
“No,” Sam said. “The show is about dancing and so is your future. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
She nodded. “You’re right. That became crystal clear to me tonight when I almost got kicked off the show. Jensen and Tabitha have families with money. They can go live in New York and try to make it with a dance company. I have a single mom who’s a secretary who I want to take care of one day. I can’t believe I ever tried to leave because of them. This is it for me. I’m not blowing it.”
No wonder Meagan had taken to Carrie. The kid had character. “Good. That’s real good, Carrie.”
They talked a few minutes about her mom, her life back in Washington, and the mess in the house that needed to be cleaned up before they saw Meagan and the three dancers approaching the house. Looking guilty as heck, Jensen and Tabitha rushed up the stairs without a word.
Meagan stopped beside Sam. “I threatened to send them both home. Hopefully I gave them a reality check. Neither of them wants to get kicked off the show.”
The door swung open and Kiki joined them on the porch. “Talk about some great footage for next week. The ‘almost sex’ incident is going to be gold.”
Meagan eyed Carrie. “Can you please go inside and give us a minute?”
“Yes, of course,” Carrie said, and toted Mel up the stairs and past Kiki.
The instant the door was shut, Meagan said, “We can’t air this or the studio could make the kids leave the show. I told them that won’t happen.”
Kiki crossed her arms, attitude rolling off her. “They chose to ignore their contracts. Besides. They didn’t break the rules. They almost broke the rules.”
“I doubt they thought we would put this on air.”
“Why would you say that?” Kiki asked. “Oh wait.” She lifted her chin at Sam. “I suppose you did set a bad example by shoving your tongue down Sam’s throat. Maybe we should include some footage of you two instead? We’re here for the good of the show and the network.”
Kiki’s claws were officially back out and Sam wasn’t waiting for Meagan’s reply. He was close to having the evidence he needed to end Kiki’s career as a troublemaker.
He held his hands up. “Sorry, ladies, but I have to throw up a stop sign. Since this is a contractual issue, there are legalities involved. If this footage is used and ends those kids’ runs on the show, they could potentially sue. I can’t release the film without studio approval. If I do, you two can figure out what to do with it.” He glanced between them. “You’re both welcome to curse me out over a cheeseburger at the diner down the road.”
“I’m going to stay here,” Kiki huffed. “I have some phone calls to make.” She turned and headed back into the house.
Meagan asked, “How about that burger?”
He arched a brow. “I’m surprised you’re willing to leave.”
“A very sexy man once told me that sometimes you just have to let go.”
20
IMAGES PLAYED IN Meagan’s sleepy haze. Of sitting at the table across from Sam, of sharing a strawberry milkshake, as if the strawberry cupcake icing hadn’t been enough. Of celebrating. Of telling Kiki where she stood. And of kissing Sam goodnight in the shadows behind the house. Then she fell asleep with her own hands on her body, wishing they had been his.
“Wake up, sweetheart.”
“Hmm.” Meagan snuggled into the warmth of the blanket. She was so tired. S
o very, very tired. And there was this sweet, warm touch she didn’t want to end. The scent of Sam lingered around her.
“Meg, honey, wake up.”
“Can’t wake up. Not yet.”
“Please.” Light touches tickled. Warmth trickled along her neck, a nibble of teeth on her earlobe. Wow. This felt real. She sat straight up. The blanket fell to her waist, exposing the skimpy tank top and matching boxers to the hungry blue eyes taking her in without one bit of reserve.
“Sam?”
He sat next to her bed, fully dressed, the sun beaming through the window.
“What happened? Did I oversleep? What’s wrong?”
“You let everyone have the morning off, so no, you didn’t oversleep, but you weren’t answering your phone and I started to worry.”
Samantha pounced into her lap and purred. Meagan replied with a long stroke of her back. “Oh yes.” She remembered letting everyone sleep, but not her phone ringing. She reached for it and noted that Sam had called her at least a dozen times. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear it.” She set Samantha aside. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“Kiki took Jensen, Rena, Tabitha and some other dancer named Susie to breakfast. After last night, I didn’t think you’d like that.”
“Oh no.” She started to get up. “That can’t be good.” Sam leaned in and kissed her, his big hand on her shoulder, and her nipples went instantly stiff and achy.
“I sent Josh along for the ride,” he told her. “Kiki wasn’t pleased. Neither was Josh.”
Relief washed over her. “I seem to owe Josh big favors.”
“I owe Josh,” he said, setting the kitten on the floor and climbing in bed with her. “He’s calling me when they head this way. We’re alone. In a real bed.”
She bit her lip and curled her arms around his neck, no hesitation. She’d been dreaming about Sam all night. “This feels so very naughty, Sam. We might get caught.”
“Naughty, which means hot and fast, if we don’t want to get interrupted.”
“I like hot and fast,” she assured him, splaying her fingers over his crotch, and caressing the thick bulge. “And it seems you like hot and fast too.” She unzipped him, and slid her hand inside. “You like it a lot.”