unbearably cold everywhere else in the house, they piled extra pillows and blankets on the living room floor, added fresh wood to the fire, and slept.
When Carly woke up the next morning, she was disoriented for a moment. Then Sam stirred behind her, and she remembered the totally crazy series of events that had led to her spending the night here with him.
“Mornin’,” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.
The fire had dwindled to coals, allowing a chill to permeate the air, but under the blankets, with Sam’s naked body entwined with hers, it was toasty warm.
“Morning.” She rolled to face him and gave him a quick kiss, mindful that she hadn’t brushed her teeth.
Sam’s hands slid down to her butt, pulling her closer. “Woke up thinking about you.”
Yeah, she could tell because he was hard, so deliciously hard. He hooked a hand behind her knee, angling her hips so that his cock pressed between them, and then he kissed her until every bone in her body had melted.
“Damn, baby,” he rasped. “You make me so hot.”
He reached behind them for a condom, rolled it on, and pushed inside. She gasped as he filled her, sending waves of pleasure through her body. He withdrew and thrust again, and it felt so good. They rocked together in the soft morning light, becoming more urgent with each thrust of his body inside hers.
For a man who made his living with his voice, Sam wasn’t a talker in bed. He showed his pleasure in the soft groans that tore from his throat, the way his eyes blazed into hers, and he clutched her against him, as if even an inch of space between them was too much.
She came with a cry, and Sam followed her over. They lay panting in each other’s arms.
“I hear songs in my head when I make love to you.” His voice was a whisper against her neck. “I thought I’d lost my muse, but I found her again. She’s you.”
Carly’s heart rolled over in her chest, and poof , she lost a little piece of it right there in Sam’s arms.
Chapter Five
S am sat by the back window, strumming chords while the melody worked itself out in his head. After they finally got up, he and Carly had quickly realized they’d be spending the day near the fireplace. The rest of the house was colder than a refrigerator. Outside, the world glistened beneath a sheen of ice. It coated everything, the house, the trees, the road.
It meant Carly wasn’t going home today. He didn’t mind. Didn’t think she did either. They were having themselves a hell of a sleepover party, and he intended to enjoy every moment. That, and write as much new music as he could while he still had his muse here for inspiration.
“Back in Black” started playing on his cell phone—the ring tone he’d set for his manager, Donny. Sam almost turned it off. He’d charged his phone this morning in case his parents had called, not to take more flak from Donny. Although…
He brought the phone to his ear. “Donny.”
“Sam!” Donny’s voice boomed over the line. “Listen, I need you back here ASAP.”
“What happened to writing my next hit?” he asked drily.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Donny said. “I just got off the phone with Tina Torrey’s manager. She wants to record a duet.”
“A duet with Tina Torrey?” Sam had met her a few times. She sang edgy rock-laced pop, real cute with jet-black hair and overdone makeup. And she was hot, as in burning-up-the-charts hot. His interest was definitely piqued.
“Recording as soon as next week. We want it all over the airwaves this summer. This is your splashy comeback, Sam. We’ll follow it up with a new album.”
“Send me what you’ve got. I’ll give you my final decision after I’ve heard the tune, but unofficially…I’ll do it,” Sam said. He respected Tina Torrey and her music. Collaborating with her was a good move.
“Awesome, man, will do. I’ll go ahead and charter a flight for you.”
“Better check the weather first,” Sam said. “We’ve had an