Night Fever by Tori Carrington

Author:Tori Carrington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

9

WELL. This sucked dead canaries.

Sam turned off the shower, sighed, then turned the spray back on again, this time laying off the hot and going with full-blast cold.

He’d gotten home from Layla’s and headed straight for the bathroom where he was putting himself through the most brutal anti-sex treatment known to man.

And to think right now he could be sinking into her slick flesh.

He leaned his closed fists against the shower wall and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay under the punishing spray until he couldn’t stand it any longer. Then he finally switched the water off. He stood for long moments trying to catch his breath, then snatched a towel from a shelf and briskly dried off, heading into the living room after he’d tied the towel around his waist.

Sex, sex, sex. For a guy who’d never really given it much serious consideration before, it seemed it was all he thought about now that he was denying himself the pleasure.

Heather and her damn ideas.

He remembered Layla’s sexily startled look when he’d kissed her good-night—again—without making a single pass, and he groaned. He grabbed the television remote and pressed the button to lower the theater screen, surfing through channels before it clicked into place. How was it that there were over a hundred-and-fifty channels on his satellite and he couldn’t find one single thing he liked? He paused on a show focusing on quick decorating makeovers, cursed, then pressed the preset for ESPN.

Food. Maybe food would fill the craving.

He padded toward the kitchen, only then catching the blinking light on his new answering machine. He pressed the button and braced himself for his sister’s voice.

Instead he got Layla’s.

“Okay, Sam, you’re going to tell me what’s going on right now or…or…”

He could virtually see her searching her mind for something to say and grinned.

“Or I grab the next available guy and release all this sexual tension.”

Not good.

He tapped the receiver and it flipped up so he could catch it in his hand—an old trick he’d learned in college. In two seconds flat the line to Layla’s was ringing.

“Hello?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

He could almost see her smile. “Yes. But you caught me in the nick of time. I was just about to go out trolling.”

“Trolling, huh?”

“Mmm. It’s an L.A. thing. You wouldn’t know about it.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Is this a booty call?”

Images of Layla’s pert little bottom slid through his mind, completely undoing any good the showers had done. “No.”

“Shame.”

Wasn’t it, though?

There was a long silence during which he listened to her tapping something on her end of the line, then she finally said, “Look, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are you going to leave me guessing?”

“Going on?”

“Answer my question with a question one more time and I’m hanging up.”

Tempting. It would mean he wouldn’t have to deal with her question.

On the other hand, it might mean he wouldn’t have to deal with her or her questions ever again.

“Fair enough.”

“So give.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She made a sound of frustration that just about summed up how he was feeling.

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