Page 18 of Fauxmance in the City

I catch a glimpse of my disheveled hair in the round gilt mirror above the fireplace. “I’ll deal with big life choices later. I need to change before everyone arrives.”

“Who’s sleeping where tonight?” Sam asks when we reach the top of the stairs.

Leading him down the white-and-navy-striped hallway, I indicate one bedroom after another. “Gillian will sleep in the master, Max in here, and Charles said the crew would set up in the small room by the back stairs.”

At the other end of the hallway is a large set of double doors that I open into the second master suite. I kick off my shoes, then sink my toes into a plush lambskin rug covering the mahogany wood floors. Dominating the room is a king-size canopy bed with downy-white bedding. In a seating area that could be its own room are a loveseat and two armchairs facing two arched windows overlooking the street.

“We’re staying here,” I say. “Check out the bathroom.”

Sam pushes open a set of double doors.

It’s an ensuite, complete with a Jacuzzi tub and a spa shower with his-and-her showerheads. The lighting is low, and the room has heated marble floors, wood wainscoting, and gray pebbled tiles lining the wall. A mix of mint, sage, and lavender fills my nose. It’s small, but it’s better than any five-star spa I’ve ever experienced.

“Isn’t it posh?” I clamber into the empty tub and stretch my legs out. Sam climbs in next to me. The bathtub is cool, but his shoulder is warm against mine.

“I call the bed.” Sam nudges me.

Flustered, I squeeze against the rim of the tub, but Sam’s solid frame is there pressing against my side. My heart does that stupid flutter thing that makes me want to strangle it.

“No way. I need my beauty sleep.”

“I was teasing. We’ll share,” he says. “Or you can sneak outside to sleep with the dog once everyone is sleeping if you want.”

I squeeze his thigh hard, and he yelps.

“You can sleep on the couch downstairs after everyone is sleeping. Then set your alarm early and come back here.” I smile, only half-serious. I hadn’t thought through the whole one-bed issue.

“I’m not sleeping on the fucking couch, Catie.” He jumps out of the tub, and I hate that my body shivers without him next to me.

“I was joking.” I march out of the bathroom and throw myself onto the master bed, sinking into the lushness. “But we’re sleeping head to toe. If I feel even a hair of yours near me, I’ll knee you in the groin.”

Sam sinks his hands into the footboard, his eyes narrowing. It makes me feel like a schoolgirl about to get a scolding.

“I’d never force myself on you. Do you hear me, baby?” His hands strangle the wood panel, his gaze dark. It’s frightening and sexy all at the same time. “Answer me.”

Damn.

“I know that, Sam.”

God help me but I love when he calls me baby.

“Good. And if we fuck this weekend up, Gillian will fire me too.”

“I know.” My cheeks flush, his scolding making me hot and bothered, and I don’t care which way we sleep—head, toe, top, bottom, sixty-nine.

Sam leans forward. “Those dirty thoughts are written all over your face, Catie.”

“They’re not dirty.” I chew my bottom lip and stare at his stern face. God, what has happened to me? Ever since the elevator, I’ve become a horny teenager around him. For years I’ve cultivated an ice queen attitude around him when it comes to sex. One little poke and I’ve melted into a puddle of desire to be wielded at his will.

Sam plucks my feet off the mattress, and I yelp when he yanks me to the edge of the bed. There’s a crew of people arriving at any moment, but everything tumbles out of my brain as my butt bangs the low footboard, my knees hanging over the ledge on either side of Sam’s thighs. I press up to my elbows. Directly in my eye line is his crotch. My jaw unhinges because he’s in those tight joggers again, and he’s fully erect.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he warns, his voice low.

“You’re the one with a literal hard-on.” I swallow over the lump in my throat.

“I’m not the only one.” He snakes his gaze over my tight sweater, where two headlight beams are poking through the ribbed fabric.

I cock the side of my mouth up and lift my right foot, shaking off the pointed flat. It clatters to the ground. My toes hook into the elastic waistband of his pants, and I tug him toward me. He cries out in surprise, his knees banging into the footboard, and he falls forward, catching his weight on his elbows before he crushes me.

---