Strictly Seduction: Watch Me. Lisa Renee Jones
a lot you assumed.”
“Yes.”
He glanced her way. “And?”
“And what?”
“And you know exactly what.”
“Fine. I’m sorry. But don’t tell me you didn’t make assumptions about me.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I did.”
“And?” she prodded right back, seeking her apology. They stopped a few feet from the truck.
“And I’m not apologizing because so far I’ve been right about every assumption I’ve made. You’re stubborn, controlling—”
“I am not controlling!”
“Determined, hardworking and a great kisser.” He handed her the bundle in his arms. “Hold on to her so I can turn off the beach lights and unlock the truck.”
“Her?”
“Yeah. Her.”
A female. She liked that. “Then I think I’ll call her Samantha, because she’s so sweet and cuddly—just like you.” She snorted. He arched a brow, but didn’t comment.
Instead he clicked the lock on the truck and opened the door. Meagan slid inside, careful with the meowing kitten that she stroked and talked to.
Then, to her surprise, Sam leaned into the truck and laid a sexy, hot kiss on her, his tongue delving past her lips for a slow, sensual exploration before he said, “We both know that not only am I not sweet and cuddly, you like that about me.” And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.
He was right—he wasn’t sweet and cuddly. He was a big, sexy alpha lion, and she couldn’t wait to see if she could make him purr for her. And there it was. For the first time in a long, long time, a man was a challenge. It excited her. He excited her.
IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT when Sam stepped off the elevator with Meagan by his side, and headed along the hotel floor, toward her room. Samantha’s cut hadn’t been nearly as bad as they’d thought, and she’d received a thumbs-up and a follow-up appointment from the vet.
Sam carried several overstuffed bags filled with an assortment of feline supplies, including a pink bed to match the pink bag in which Meagan was carrying Samantha. Long before the trip to the 24-hour Walmart, where she’d purchased half the pet-supplies department and declared Samantha the show’s new “good luck charm,” he’d known that she was going to be heartbroken if an owner showed up to claim the tiny fur ball. While at the vet, they’d had time to talk, and they’d decided they’d fight for the property, and Sam had promised to investigate where the kitten might have come from.
They stopped at her room door and their eyes met, instant electricity crackling between them, as it had so many times tonight—and well before tonight, too.
Samantha made a soft meow, and Meagan jerked her gaze from Sam’s, swiping at the door with the plastic key she’d pulled from her pocket. She held the door open and went inside. He didn’t. Several eternal seconds passed before Meagan grabbed his arm and tugged him forward.
“Sam, damn it, hurry up, before someone sees you.” She shut the door behind him and locked it—assuming he would stay.
“I wasn’t aware I was invited in.”
She ignored the comment and sat down on the floor to let a meowing Samantha out of her bag. Sam laughed as the animal rubbed against her leg and purred up a storm.
Meagan and Sam squatted by the pink bed, where Samantha proceeded to plop down next to the catnip-enhanced stuffed animal that Meagan had bought for her, and go to sleep.
Both Sam and Meagan laughed. “She’s so cute, Sam. I hope we don’t find an owner. I want to keep her.”
Their eyes locked and the air around them seemed to thicken and capture them.
“I know you do,” he said softly. She’d told him about the pets she’d had growing up. There was something about Meagan. Something about the vulnerability beneath the guard she erected to protect herself, that spoke to him well beyond the desire he had for her. It made him prod her for pieces of her life, to understand her.
“I worked so many crazy hours in the newsroom that I didn’t feel I could have a pet,” Meagan said, stroking the kitten’s back.
“How does dance and the newsroom fit together?” he asked. “I haven’t quite figured out the connection.”
Her lashes lowered and he could feel the sudden tension in her. “One of my teachers in high school once worked at Julliard before she had a car accident and a back injury she never fully recovered from. Her family owned some property in our community so she took a job teaching English, which was her second major. Anyway, she found out how intrigued I was by ballerinas and she secretly started teaching me to dance.”
“Secretly?” he asked, sensing there was a whole lot of pain behind this story, and wanting to understand it, to understand her.
“My parents wouldn’t have approved,” she said. “When I told you the town I grew up in was like the town in the movie Footloose, I wasn’t joking. When I started dancing in college my parents were sure the devil had stolen their only child’s soul to test their faith. It was…difficult.” She waved a hand as if to wave away the problem. “Long story short, when a television station came to a career day at my college, I hit it off with one of their recruiters, and they offered me a job. It wasn’t dancing, but the production end of things really struck a chord with me. I like making things come together.”
“It seems pretty darn stressful.”
“It is, although that only makes it all the more rewarding when everything does come together.” The kitten meowed and the shadows in Meagan’s eyes disappeared. “She’s just too cute. I think I’m in love.”
In love. The words hit him hard. He’d never been in love. He’d never before even said the word in the same sentence as he had a woman’s name. But Meagan…there was something about her. She made him feel things he’d never felt. One night. Right. That had been a joke. There was no way one night would ever be enough with this woman. These past few hours had proven that to him.
Sam watched her playing with the kitten, digesting what she’d told him, wanting to press for more. And there was more. He knew there was, but he forced himself to take things slow, not to pressure her. He got why this show meant so much to her now though. She has a passion for dance that she’d had to walk away from, and now had a chance to experience again in some way.
“I think your new cat needs a dog pal,” Sam said.
“A Lab, right?” she asked. “A cat and a Lab, like you said you had on the military base.”
He liked her reference to what he’d shared with her during the vet visit. “Exactly.”
“Well, then,” she said. “If the show gets renewed for a second season, I’ll get Sam a Lab to celebrate.”
“Sam? As in me or the cat?”
“I guess you could share.” She looked away, as if she realized she’d inferred he’d still be around then, involved in her life. And if she didn’t, he sure did.
Sam slid a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “That sounds like a deal to me.”
Suddenly, they both moved into each other’s arms and were kissing wildly, passionately, hands roaming, tongues teasing.
“Either tell me to leave now, Meagan,” he rasped near her ear, “or tell me to stay and make love to you.”
Her fingers stabbed into his short hair, shoving his head back so she could search his face. “I know I should tell you to go. I do. Every piece of me says that work and pleasure are a bad combination but—”
“Stay