Meagan passed a bathroom and entered the large master suite, which could accommodate three contestants, but would only need to host two. And what a master it was. Huge double windows led onto what appeared to be a balcony. She needed to get Kiki up here and assign her furniture-shopping duty. With cameras rolling, that wasn’t an unimportant task.
“Meagan?” Sam’s voice and the sound of big feet climbing the stairs echoed nearby.
“In the master,” she called, and headed into the bathroom. Wow. If she were selfish, she’d find a way to make this her suite and her bathroom. There was a separate shower in a sort of rock enclave that was envy worthy, and a deep sunken tub equally so, as well as a double vanity and a huge closet. The girls would have to draw straws for the room. It would be the only fair way to manage them choosing.
Footsteps closed in on her, and her stomach fluttered with the awareness of Sam being nearby. Her stomach had actually fluttered. When in the world had that last happened with a man?
She didn’t turn, afraid she’d give away what she was feeling, but she knew the instant Sam entered the bathroom.
Meagan gasped at the daring, impossibly damning action of him shutting the door, and right then she was sure she had been wrong. Sam was bad news; Sam was still the chaos she thought he was.
She reeled at the sight of her hot soldier, all big and tall. “What are you doing? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking your shirt is buttoned crooked, and you need to fix it now, before Kiki notices it.”
Her jaw dropped, and then her mouth formed a silent “Oh,” before she quickly started to right the buttons. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Did they see? Did Kiki see?”
“No,” he said. “Why do you think I all but shoved you toward the stairs and then sent them to inspect other parts of the house? But they will be here any minute.”
She checked her blouse in the mirror. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you so very much.” This time the appreciation came freely and without an ounce of hesitation. Time and Kiki were all that mattered. Task completed, she patted down the wild mess of her dark hair and turned to him, holding out her hands to her sides. “Please tell me I have covered all evidence of our earlier…that nothing else is where it shouldn’t be.”
“You’re perfect,” he said softly, his eyes hot, his voice warm. He yanked open the bathroom door, eliminating any chance they would be caught in a compromising position. Or so she thought. Before she knew his intentions, Sam pulled her into the enclave of the shower, melding her body to his.
“I hate that we were interrupted,” he confessed, an instant before his mouth closed down over hers. The assault on her senses was instant—a tangled ball of fear of being caught, and intense, nerve-prickling awareness. His tongue touched hers, suckling and licking, until she moaned and melted into his kiss, his body—correction—his hard masculine body.
Meagan grappled for willpower, her hands going to his shoulders, as she tried to convince herself to push away from him. He just tasted too good, and felt so wonderful.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, forcing her mouth from his.
His voice lowered, became husky. “And aren’t you glad we are?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her hands sliding around his neck, her breasts melding to his chest, her lips meeting his again. Meagan felt herself drift away, unable to stop it from happening. This man stole her reason, her presence of mind. There was no show, no Kiki, just her and Sam. Until there were footsteps and voices and a dart of adrenaline shot through her bloodstream.
She tried to pull away. Sam held her, and pressed his lips to her ear. “I can’t wait to finally have you to myself.” His teeth scraped her lobe before he set her away from him. She didn’t know how he planned to have her to himself, but if her trembling with need was any indication, she hoped he had a way.
It was Kiki, and Meagan shook herself, quickly checking the mirror, about to rush from the bathroom, when Sam yelled, “In here, Kiki.”
Meagan turned to him and mouthed, “Are you crazy?”
He arched a brow, as if he had no idea why she would ask such a thing.
Kiki appeared in the doorway, a frown on her pretty face. “What’s going on?”
Sam indicated the sink. “Ants. If you two want this place, I’ll need to get an exterminator written into the agreement prior to move-in.”
“Oh good grief,” Kiki exclaimed. “There’s a ton of them.”