A Passionate Love

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A Passionate Love Page 4

by Delaney Diamond

Simone looked down at their joined hands and the way hers fit perfectly in his, as if made to be held by him. Cameron pulled her in closer so that they almost touched.

  “You ready?” he asked in a low voice.

  She nodded. She was ready, for whatever would come next.

  They headed down the sidewalk toward the parking lot and walked the entire way like that—hand in hand, without saying another word to each other.

  Cameron parked his gray pearl Lexus GX SUV at the side of the building. Simone hadn’t said much during the ride over, and he wondered if it was nerves, or excitement like he felt. His skin damn near thrummed with anticipation.

  They exited the vehicle and walked to the brick building located in historic Old Fourth Ward, a thriving neighborhood located east of Atlanta. The diverse neighborhood was known for being the birthplace of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and experienced an economic downturn in the sixties. In recent years, a resurgence had occurred, resulting in a growing artistic community and flourishing small businesses. Developers took great pains to preserve its heritage, even while they converted abandoned buildings into loft living for a demographic of young professionals and entrepreneurs.

  A little over a year ago, Cameron moved into the neighborhood after living with a roommate for two years. They’d gotten along well enough, but sharing a living space with another person had simply been a means by which to save a nice nest egg and purchase a comfortable bachelor pad in a hot part of town. He bought the property as a foreclosure and the value had already doubled in the short time since he’d moved in.

  They took the elevator up to his floor, where he led Simone into the huge open loft space.

  “This is nice,” she breathed. Her heels clicked on the walnut wood flooring as she walked deeper into the boundaryless room.

  “The units sell fast here. This one was a foreclosure, so I’ve been slowly making changes.”

  Exposed brick and cedar beams in the sixteen-foot-high ceiling added character to the property and had been one of the many features that attracted him to the unit, but he’d had to strip and refinish the floors and remodel the kitchen with a brand of high-end appliances he preferred.

  White curtains flanked either side of a window to the left—a window that was ten feet high and let in plenty of light throughout most of the day. Directly in front of them was a sitting area made up of two clean but old sofas and a chair arranged around a heavy mahogany table, all scavenged from his parents’ house when they downsized after retirement.

  “I haven’t had time to go furniture shopping yet,” he explained.

  He’d brought other women here before and never cared what they thought. Hell, they mostly went straight up to the bedroom anyway. But a little part of him wanted to impress Simone. The old, comfy sofas and chair no longer seemed good enough.

  She looked over her shoulder. “You have a terrace,” she said with excitement. She dropped the Fendi bag on the coffee table and rushed over to the window.

  Cameron had placed an iron patio set made up of a round table and two chairs out there. He spent the occasional quiet evening sitting out on the patio eating dinner, watching the sun go down. On his day off, it was the perfect spot for relaxing and sipping a beer.

  Simone turned, lifting her eyes to the second level bedroom and the space below it, decorated with only a chair, desk, and lamp where he worked when not at the club.

  “I like this.”

  “I still have some work to do, but it’s home.”

  She walked over to his record player against the wall and the collection of records housed in six crates around it. He could watch her walk all day and night.

  “Records and a record player?” she said, quirking a brow at him.

  He didn’t own one of those sleek, modern ones that integrated with Bluetooth technology. His was vintage, purchased for a pittance at a garage sale.

  “Don’t knock it ’til you try it.”

  One of his favorite things to do was go to the record store and browse the stacks. Not only did he find other enthusiasts with whom he talked shop, but many unknown artists in the vinyl age made great music. When the digital age came along, they didn’t all make the leap, and countless times he’d found hidden gems to add to his collection.

  “I’m not knocking your old records, but surely you’ve heard of music streaming services. They’re all the rage now,” she quipped.

  “Oh, so you got jokes.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  She shrugged with one shoulder and sent him a cute little smile before diving back into the collection. The way she angled her body over the crates made him tilt his head and imagine what he could do to her once he got her naked.

  “You’re a blues man. I see the old greats—B.B. King, Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson. Wow.” She continued flipping. “And names I don’t recognize. Do you only listen to blues?”

  “Mostly blues. Some old rock, disco, etcetera. Everything’s all mixed in,” Cameron replied, his gaze trailing down the curve in her spine, over her bottom, and lower to her shapely calves.

  “No cell phone. An old record player and records. You’re an old soul, Cameron Bennett.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers and laughed. “You say I’m an old soul. My family says I’m stubborn.”

  “Well, they know you better than I do. Are you stubborn?”

  “Pretty much. I like what I like, and I’m not easily distracted by every new and shiny thing.”

  “That’s a good trait to have,” she said quietly. “Mind if I put on one of the records?”

  “Not at all.”

  She pulled one of the disks from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. The sound of an electric guitar crackled through the old speakers as “Rock Me Baby,” by B.B. King started.

  “That’s good music right there,” Cameron said.

  He left her and went into the kitchen, where steel dominated the decor. Light glinted off the steel appliances and steel built-in shelves that took the place of cabinets and exposed his collection of dishes.

  He set the last of the tiramisu on a plate, added a fork, and rejoined Simone in the living room. Her eyes lit up when she saw the dessert. “Where’s yours?” she asked.

  Chuckling, Cameron cut a slice with the fork. “There isn’t much left, so we’ll have to share.”

  He extended the fork and she pulled the scrumptious dessert between her full lips. His stomach tightened.

  “Mmm.”

  Cameron cut another slice and ate it. Over and over, he alternated by cutting a slice, extending it to her, and then cutting off a piece for himself to eat. All the while, King’s gravelly voice serenaded them with “Rock Me Baby.”

  When they finished the cake, Simone brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and licked her lips.

  He was two seconds away from ripping her clothes off. Watching her take slice after slice of cake between her red, parted lips had to be one of the most sensuous things he’d ever seen.

  She kept looking at him, as if waiting for something, and that’s when he realized she was waiting for him to make a move.

  As the album segued into the sultrier, edgier “Blue Shadows,” Cameron took Simone’s hand and drew her closer, barely managing to temper the urgency beating through his blood.

  “So how was it?” he asked.

  “Delicious,” she said softly, sounding a little breathless. “You were right, it was criminally good.” She licked her lips again, and this time he knew she’d done it on purpose. “But I have a feeling that tiramisu wasn’t the only reason you invited me here tonight.”

  One corner of Cameron’s mouth ticked upward. “I have a feeling you knew that when you accepted my invitation.”

  His finger touched the pulse hammering at the base of her throat, and she inhaled. Her breasts lifted and stayed as she held her breath. Cameron lowered his head to the same spot and she arched her throat. When his tongue swept across the hollow between her collarbones, she released the br
eath as a trembling exhalation.

  While B.B. King bewailed how it felt to be alone, Cameron encircled Simone’s waist with one arm and pulled her flush against his body. Cupping her face with the other hand, he went in for the kiss.

  Their mouths meshed together. Slow and easy. Her lips softened beneath his, and he pried them apart to trace the edges with his tongue. She tasted sweet like the dessert they’d consumed—mascarpone cheese, amaretto, and cocoa—and his blood surged as he delved deeper into the kiss.

  Simone moaned, leaning into him, and his fingers climbed into her thick hair. Angling his head, he kissed her harder, with fiercer pressure and ardent strokes of his tongue.

  Drawn again to the perfumed hollow at the base of her throat, he showered kisses down the side of her neck. Her little mewl of pleasure echoed in his loins, and he pushed her against the wall, kissing her harder and more thoroughly, stroking into every corner of her mouth.

  His awakening body hardened, and he lifted her high. In response, her arms immediately encircled his neck and held him tight.

  Cameron turned off the phonograph and plunged the room in quiet. Moving through the house, he headed to the stairs, Simone’s mouth traveling over his face and neck, her breathing irregular, her heart thudding against his chest.

  Then with slow, careful steps, he started climbing up the stairs.

  Chapter 7

  Cameron sat naked on the bed, his tight body even more magnificent than Simone had realized. Taut muscles extended over every surface of his deep-brown skin. His thighs, thick and sturdy as wooden planks were powerful-looking and sprinkled with fine hairs. Nestled between his hips, his heavy manhood stood proud and erect, making her loins ache and throb with anticipation.

  She pulled the dress over her head and let it crumble in a heap at her feet. Her toes sank into the plush beige rug that covered half the floor as she stood before him, unselfconscious in a black lace bra and matching cheeky. Reaching behind, she unhooked the bra while Cameron peeled the panty down her hips. With her entire body exposed, his eyes lowered to where a narrow strip of hair covered her shaved privates.

  He watched her with a rigid jaw and such heat in his eyes, her skin prickled everywhere his gaze landed. His hands cupped her hips and she almost sighed from relief, anticipatory trembling overtaking her limbs as desire seeped into her bones.

  “You’re a goddess,” he murmured, tugging her onto his lap so she straddled him.

  He cupped the back of her head, his fingers a little rough, contracting in her hair as he dragged her neck to his mouth and kissed her chin, jaw, and shoulders. His moist mouth on her skin felt so good she moaned, delicious sensations swirling through her lower stomach and making her ache. Gripping his broad back, she flattened her breasts into his chest, rubbing her nipples against the friction of hair so they thrust into even harder points.

  With ease he moved them higher on the bed and rolled Simone beneath him, then kissed her breasts and sucked the chocolate caps like pieces of candy. She twisted against the intense pleasure, her toes tangling in the rumpled sheets.

  “Cam…”

  Heartlessly, he continued the assault, circling her nipples with his tongue, nipping the flesh with his teeth until she had no choice but to arch deeper into his mouth and whisper his name in a pained, helpless moan. He kissed down over her stomach and she watched him go lower. Taking his time. Savoring her taste. Alternating between licking and sucking as he edged closer to the most sensitive part of her body.

  He nipped at her hips and flicked his gaze up. Their eyes locked before he pressed his mouth to the juncture of her thighs.

  Simone jerked and a harsh breath hissed through her teeth. She became one big pulsing ache of need, and extremely sensitive to his touch.

  His hands slid between the mattress and her ass to cup her bottom. Then he truly went to work between her legs. His tongue and lips made love to her clit. Gentle tugs and quick strokes prodded her closer to the edge. She fought the urge to slam her thighs around his head but lifted her hips higher, gasping, eyes shuttering closed under the stimulating pleasure of his mouth.

  Cameron squeezed her ass, his tongue continuing to glide across her sensitive skin. Seconds later, she succumbed to the urge of release. It was embarrassing how quickly she came.

  Her mind went blank and she cried out, shuddering through an orgasm of epic proportion that surged through her blood and forced every muscle to tighten and seize. Her thighs gave up the fight and clamped around his head, and her back arched off the mattress as she rode out the storm.

  When he finished, a cocky grin swept one side of Cameron’s mouth. He swiped a hand across his glistening lips and reached to the nightstand beside the bed. He slipped on a condom and positioned himself above her, kissing the corner of her mouth and giving her right breast a quick tug with his lips before gripping her hips.

  With one smooth thrust the full weight of him came between her legs, and Simone clamped her arms around his neck, anxious for more contact.

  He filled her body, pressing into her—hard, warm, powerful.

  She sighed into his neck. Pure, unadulterated completion filled her being. This was where she belonged. With this man, in this bed.

  Cameron pulled back and lunged forward again with one long thrust. He groaned. “Damn. You have the sweetest…” The words ended on another rough-edged groan.

  With her bottom nestled in his hands, he moved with slow, measured strokes. Skin to skin, they rocked. Slowly, he increased the tempo, and she followed suit until the strain of a pending orgasm built in her loins.

  As if someone had flipped a switch, his hands tightened and his hips charged harder between her open legs. She tilted her hips up to receive him, fast but steady. She ran her fingers over his soft hair, caressing his neck and the muscles of his broad shoulders.

  “Feel good, sweetheart?” he whispered.

  “Mmm. Yes.” She pressed open-mouthed kisses to his cheek and jaw.

  Cameron lifted one of her legs over his arm and lunged to the hilt. An involuntary cry left Simone’s throat. Her toes curled into tight knots and she bit down on her lip, fingernails sinking into his back muscles as she fought to prolong the pleasurable tension.

  Her determination was no match for his skill. He felt too good. Rotating his hips in a passion-filled rhythm, he sent her into orgasmic bliss where stars exploded behind her closed lids in a kaleidoscope of color. His mouth moved along her throat, adding another layer of sensation, and wails of pleasure emitted from her throat as he continued to thrust, panting, his tight body pounding, pounding, pounding into hers.

  Until finally he could no longer hold out. A guttural groan shot from his chest and he surrendered to the passion. His entire body went tense before he let out a heavy breath and spent, he collapsed on top of her.

  Something hard pushed against Simone’s bottom. Her eyes fluttered open and she frowned, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The room was dark, but slices of light slipped past the outer edge of the lowered Roman shades.

  “You up?” Cameron’s scratchy voice came from behind her, and then she recognized that the prodding came from the boner he had pushed up against her butt cheek.

  One hand cupped her breast and squeezed. She moaned and arched her back, her nipple immediately hardening into the soft caress.

  “What time is it?”

  “Don’t know. You have somewhere to be?”

  He kissed her back, and she almost succumbed to the delicious sensation of his mouth on her skin. Fighting the urge, she rolled away and shoved her rumpled hair from her face. She searched for a clock, but there was none to be found on the bedside table.

  “I need to know the time,” Simone said.

  “By the slant of light coming in, I’d say it’s eightish.”

  “What!” Simone bolted from the bed.

  Cameron sat up. “Where are you going?”

  “I have an appointment at nine.” She hurriedly dressed, pulling up her und
erwear, putting on her bra, and then wiggling to get the dress over her head. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered.

  “Hey, slow down.” He moved more slowly, rolling out of bed and tugging on his pants. “Do you want some coffee, or—”

  “No, I can’t. I have to go.” Simone searched the room. Her eyes jerked back and forth in panic. “Where’s my purse?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “Oh, right.” She hustled to the sliding translucent door that closed off the bedroom.

  “Wait.” Cameron grabbed her arm, frowning. “You’re just going to leave?”

  “I’m sorry, I have to go. I have an appointment in an hour, and I need to call my driver and have him get over here fast so I can get back to my condo, shower, change…” The enormity of everything she had to do overwhelmed her, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. She’d never get through in time. “I need to call my assistant so she can postpone my appointment. That’s what I should do,” she said, talking to herself.

  How could she have allowed herself to get into this predicament? She slid the door open. Hurrying down the stairs, she squinted into the sunlight bursting through the long windows.

  She snatched up her purse and looked up at Cameron, who paused halfway down the stairs. She took a moment to simply take him in. Barefoot and wearing only a pair of slacks, she was reminded again of her first impression of him—that of a god. What a body. He was covered in muscles, from his broad shoulders to his perfectly formed chest and flat stomach.

  Simone hesitated. Maybe she could put off the appointment and stay longer. Just one more hour to bask in the heat of his touch and kisses.

  No.

  She had responsibilities. Sick children were depending on her.

  “I’m sorry I have to run off like this.”

  Cameron shrugged. “No problem. Maybe we could hook up again some time.”

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay. And um…thanks for a nice night.” She bit the inside of her lip. Was that an appropriate way to characterize their night together? Nice? Explosive or orgasmic would be a better adjective.

 

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