Jen snorted. “Who are you trying to convince of that, me or you?”
A knock on the door drew their attention. Jen grinned and whispered in Cat’s ear, “Maybe if you’re really good, he’ll let you play with his monkey.”
Cat stifled a chuckle. “You are so bad.”
Jen leaned against the wall. “Me? Bad? I’m not the one playing sex games with Romeo.”
“Romeo?”
“Come on, Cat. Sam has reached out and touched more women than Hallmark.”
Cat planted her hands on her hips. “I’ve been living here for six months and I haven’t seen him with anyone but that cute little chimp of his.”
“That’s because he’s been buried in a project. Before that…well, let’s just say before that women were lining up like he was an amusement ride.”
Taking pause, Cat remembered the way the women on the picket line swarmed him, touching him with familiarity. Did they know him on an intimate level? Had they all gone for a wild ride on his joystick? Jen had to be wrong. Sam really didn’t strike her as the playboy type at all.
Cat spoke in a hushed tone. “But he’s such a gentleman and he seems so sweet,” she countered.
Jen lowered her voice to match Cat’s. “Oh he is sweet, Cat. Candy apple sweet. All six foot two of him. Or so I’ve been told.” Jen gave her a wink. “And he’s also a gentleman. Ladies first, if you know what I mean.”
Cat crinkled her nose, trying to wrap her head around the idea that Sam was a playboy. “He’s so nurturing, though. Have you ever seen him with Rio?”
“He’s nurturing all right.” Jen picked up Cat’s orange, tossed a piece into her mouth, and handed the last wedge to Cat. “From what I hear he’ll nurture multiple orgasms right out of you.” Jen crinkled her brow. “Come to think of it, maybe you’re not so crazy after all. Let me know where I can sign up to be a lab rat,” she teased. “It’s been awhile since I had multiple…anything.”
Cat shot Jen a silencing look, tamped down the odd churning in her stomach, and walked to the door. It really shouldn’t bother her to find out Sam had his own harem of women. It wasn’t like they were in an intimate relationship, nor was she even entertaining the idea. Not for a split second. He could date as many women as he wanted. It didn’t matter one measly iota to her.
Which had her wondering why the image of Sam as the main carnival attraction left her feeling very disconcerted.
Pushing back the surge of jealousy, Cat furrowed her brow and pressed her fingers to her lips in warning. “Be good and play nice.” She tossed her orange slice into her mouth, wrapped her palm around the doorknob, and twisted.
Jen shook her curly black locks from her shoulders. “Only if you’ll be bad and share the details.”
Cat ignored her friend and pulled her door open. One word came to mind as she caught his sexy, bad-boy grin.
Stimuli.
No, that’s a lie. Two words came to mind. Stimuli. Me. Now. Or was that three?
As she took in the handsome man before her, she gasped. She actually gasped. And he heard it. Good Lord. One look from him and she turned into a speechless sex nymph.
Sam’s sun-bleached hair looked damp from a recent shower. His scent, an aphrodisiacal combination of soap, shampoo, and one hundred percent grade A male, curled around her, drawing her into a cocoon of need and desire. She wondered what he wore underneath that long leather trench coat. Professional, easy-to-remove, loose-fitting scrubs or those aged, faded jeans of his that had her drooling like an overheated Saint Bernard, and, on more than one occasion, had had her doing a few intimate, solo experiments of her own.
With effort she spoke. “Hi,” she pushed that one word out past the lump lodged in her throat. “I’m all wet…set. I mean set. I’m all set,” she repeated like a babbling idiot.
Good Lord.
If he caught her slip, he ignored it and for that Cat was grateful. Cat grabbed her coat, shrugged it on, and hitched her handbag high on her shoulder.
If this were a date, she would have played it cool and kept him waiting, but it wasn’t a date. Why did she constantly have to remind herself of that? Because Sam York had never shown any interest in her as a woman before and right now he thought of her as nothing more than a lab rat.
“Sorry I’m late. I had a few last-minute things at the lab to take care of.” He looked past her shoulder. “Hey, Jen. How’s it going?”
Jen looked like she was about to swoon when he gifted her with one of his panty-soaking smiles. Cat couldn’t blame her, really. It had taken all her strength and two locked knees to keep herself upright.
“Hey, Sam. Things are good. Where’s Rio?” Jen pushed off the wall and hooked her thumbs through her belt loops.
Sam turned sideways to let Cat through the doorway. “She’s at the lab.”
“If you ever need a sitter, I’d be more than happy to play with your…monkey,” Jen offered.
Cat gulped. Oh, my God. Her orange rose from her stomach and lodged in her throat. Jesus, she was going to kill Jen when she got back.
One sexy brow cocked as Sam slanted his head and shot Jen a glance. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Cat twisted around, glared at her grinning friend, and cast a look that suggested her days were numbered as she gripped the knob and pulled her door closed.
Glancing around, Cat noted that darkness had settled over the city. A warm, white light drifted out from the condo and spilled onto the porch. Sam dipped his head and looked at her, a sparkle simmering in his baby blues.
“She was talking about Rio, right?”
His velvety smooth voice bombarded her body with rich, evocative sensations.
