squealed and grasped onto his shoulders to avoid falling.
"I want to have you in the shower."
Samantha smiled and crossed her ankles as Blake walked them out of the room and away from extra eyes.
When they reached the bathroom door, he placed her back on her feet and took her lips again. The back of her legs bumped into the cheap Formica countertop as they squeezed into the small space. Blake lifted her until she sat next to her sink, all the while his lips kept dancing with hers. He wedged himself between her thighs and her hips rocked forward to find more contact.
The sound of the door closing registered in a small corner of her brain, but her lips kept themselves glued to Blake's.
They were alone. No cameras, no watchful eyes.
The soft comfort of Blake's mouth left hers and came to rest on her temple. She whimpered at the loss. He kept his arms wrapped around her body, kept her tucked firmly in his embrace. Reality slowly seeped in as they both searched for control.
She shouldn't be so at home in his arms. How was she going to stay out of his bed if they continued to play Russian roulette? Samantha started to pull away but Blake held on.
"I need a minute," he breathed into her ear, voice rough with desire.
She leaned into him and loosened her grip on his broad shoulders. For several minutes, they stood still, neither talking. Blake ran his hands up and down her back with slow, even strokes.
"Shouldn't we turn on the shower?" she finally asked, not sure if Blake was ever going to let her go.
Blake's smoky gaze met hers and his brow lifted. "Is that an invitation?"
"For the camera," she said in a rush.
Was that disappointment flashing in his eyes? "Right." He shook his head and pushed himself away from her arms. The room chilled instantly.
The tiny bathroom didn't leave much room for either of them, so Samantha stayed on the counter and watched as Blake turned on the water in the shower. When he turned toward her and rested his back against the door, he attempted a smile but it didn't reach his eyes.
"This is crazy, isn't it?" she asked him, wanting desperately to know what his thoughts were.
He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture Sam started to recognize as a sign of stress. "What's crazy is how much I want you, and how much effort we're going through to convince people we're sleeping together when we're not."
She tried smiling, to lighten the mood. "When you put it that way, we sound certifiable."
The steam from the shower started to fill the room. For the first time since they'd met silence stretched before them as big as the Grand Canyon.
"How long should we stay in here?"
Blake glanced at the shower stall as if it held the answer to her question. "Well, if I was in there making love to you, I'd spend a lot of time learning every inch of your body."
Samantha sucked in her lower lip and pictured his lips licking paths and creating friction. "Talk like that is going to get us both in trouble."
"Why are we sitting out here and letting all that hot water run down the drain again?"
Hell if she knew... oh, yeah. They were married, and being intimate wasn't in their plans.
"Because we're both mercenaries, and sleeping together isn't part of the overall plan. Impulsive actions could ruin everything." Her words made sense, but her heart wasn't listening. The room filled with steam and her clothes started to stick to her frame.
"We can change the plan," he suggested.
Her body tingled with the possibility. "Are you suggesting a year long affair?" Could she do that?
Now his smile reached higher and lit his eyes. "We're both adults with an obvious attraction."
Which still boggled her mind. What could Blake possibly see in her? Compared to Vanessa or Jackie... excuse me, Jacqueline, Samantha was a black duck in a pond filled with white swans. Maybe he was realizing that marriage to her for a year was going to put a serious dent in his sex life.
"I've never embarked on an affair with an end date in mind."
"Neither have I." As he spoke, he moved closer, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside her.
"Right! Then why is it your relationships never last longer than six to nine months."
"Coincidence."
"Liar."
His eyes widened in fake horror. "You wound me."
"It would take more than that to wound you."
Blake ran a finger