“Tell me to stop,” he groaned even as he surged hard against her, hitting all the right spots despite the maddening layer of his shorts still between them.
Eva dug her fingers into his scalp and gave his hair a punishing tug. “Don’t you dare.”
…
Her words vibrated through him, left him shaking with need.
He’d tried to do the right thing and walk away. He’d gone to his room with the intention of taking some time to sober up before heading back to the reception. Brushed his teeth on autopilot, then jumped under the cold spray of a shower, which did nothing to cool him down. He’d taken himself in hand to deal with his insistent boner—and then he’d stopped.
What the fuck was he doing, being all noble and shit, when he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her? If she had invited him in for a simple, friendly chat, she would have been calm, not fidgeting.
She wanted it. And damn the consequences, so did he.
He pinned her to the door with his hips, grinding against her. She went wild in his arms, her hands tracing his back and shoulders, her lips devouring his as she met his every thrust. Like trying to harness a tornado.
He shifted, letting his left arm take her weight, and stepped back just enough to drop a hand between their bodies. He found her wet and ready against his fly. No panties.
For the love of…
Had she been bare under that flowing red skirt all night?
The idea drove him almost past the point of civilized thought.
He played his fingers over her entrance, enjoying her quick intake of breath when he dipped into her in a sneak preview of what was to come. She was hot and tight, her muscles clenching on his fingers like she wanted to keep what he was giving her and take even more. She threw her head back against the door and groaned his name.
His name.
A roar of triumph filled his head. Maybe it even rumbled from his throat. He didn’t give a damn. Eva was calling his name. Finally.
Christ, he had to be inside her.
He freed himself from his shorts, caught her hips under the skirt of her dress, and lifted her onto him. She arched and accepted him deep inside with a low moan.
Hot, slick, and so soft.
Cam lifted his gaze to make sure she really was Eva and not a dream version, because “soft” was never a word he’d associated with her before this moment. Her body was long, lean muscle. Her spirit all passionate stubbornness and strength—
But then her silken walls tightened around his cock and, fuck yeah, there was the strength he adored about her. Perfect. She felt just as good as he always imagined she would, and he closed his eyes with the pleasure of it.
She writhed against him, her heels digging into his ass. “Oh. Oh, God. Move!”
“No.” He pinned her to the door with his hips and caught her wrists in one hand, stretching her arms up over her head. She had her eyes squeezed tight, and he leaned in to brush his mouth over her lids. “Look at me.”
Her eyes opened. “Move. Please.”
“No.”
With a frustrated cry, she arched her back as much as she was able, pinned to the door as she was, and the movement rippled her inner muscles, squeezing them hard around his cock again. Heat gathered in his lower back. Oh, too close. They were both too close and he wasn’t ready for that yet. His balls tightened, and he clenched his teeth against the urge to pound into her, despite the beads of sweat sliding down his spine from the effort of restraint. He’d waited too damn long for this to lose all control now and have it be over in mere seconds.
“Dammit,” she gasped. “I need you to move.”
Her trapped fingers flexed as if she wanted to touch him, run her fingers through his hair, dig her nails into his shoulders. He shuddered at the mental image, but didn’t release her hands. Next time. This round, he was calling all the shots.
Curling his hips the tiniest bit, he found her ear with his teeth. “Say my name again, Eva.”
“No.”
“Stubborn.” He reached between them and found her clit, gave it a teasing rub and watched her eyes all but roll back in her head. She whimpered when he withdrew the pressure, a sound she would no doubt hate herself for later, but that he found insanely sexy.
“My name.”
A small smile flitted over her lips as she shook her head. Her dark hair, smelling of sun and saltwater and her floral shampoo, swept his shoulder with the gesture. Fuck, she’d turned the tables, now teasing him as much as he was her. And, somehow, he was losing this little match of wills.
Unable to stay still any longer, he rolled his hips and her body opened wider to him, accepting more of him with each languorous thrust. It still wasn’t enough for her. She dug her heels into his back, demanding more. Demanding hard, fast, and dirty. And he’d give her all that—as soon as he got what he wanted. He wound the strands of her hair around his hand and tugged, exposing her neck to his mouth.
“Say my name.”
She groaned. “Uh-uh.”
“Who is inside you, Eva?” He punctuated each word with a shallow thrust. “Tell me who is fucking you.”
She squirmed and tried to pull her hands free from his grip. “Cam.”
Yes. A primal satisfaction short-circuited his brain. He released her hands and her nails instantly bit into his scalp. Grasping her hips, he pumped into her, each thrust pushing her higher and knocking their bodies against the door.
“Say it again.”
“Camden,” she whispered and dragged his mouth to hers. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged, and his control evaporated. Supporting her weight with his hands under her ass, he spun away from the door and strode toward the king sized bed. Her head fell back as each step pushed him deeper inside her, and he couldn’t resist the tantalizing view of her cleavage. He dipped his head to taste the hollow between her breasts that the damn dress had been giving him teasing glimpses of all night long—and he lost his balance, snagging his foot on some kind of strap. Eva squealed as they toppled to the bed, and he twisted so that he took the brunt of the fall on his back, Eva on top of him.
Straddling his hips, she grinned down at him. “You’re such a klutz.” She dragged her palms over his bare chest, stopping only to pinch his nipples lightly between her fingers. “Hmm. But I do like this view.”
“Not tonight.” He easily flipped her to her back and silenced her indignant cry with a hard kiss. “Next time. I’ve waited too long to have you under me.”
He plucked at the tie holding the halter dress up and about swallowed his tongue when the red fabric fell free. He’d spent many nights fantasizing about seeing her naked and now…
Damn. Fantasy didn’t even come close.
She had small, firm breasts with dusky pink nipples standing at taut peaks. He sucked one into his mouth, giving it all his attention for a long moment before moving to the other one. As he sucked her, he stripped the dress off her legs and she lay before him in nothing but a thigh holster and her favorite Glock.
Holy fuck, that was hot. So, so much better than fantasy.
Eva lifted her arms over her head and arched her back, her silky, flat belly teasing his cock as she hooked a leg around his hip. “Why are you not naked yet?”
In a surge, she sat up and shoved his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, then pushed his shorts down his hips. He had to leave her and stand long enough to kick off the shorts. They landed with a dull whop somewhere over by the door, but he didn’t care. He edged Eva’s thighs apart with his knee, took another second to remove her gun and holster and set them aside, then lifted her hips in his hands. He entered her slowly, watching himself sink into her.
Beautiful. Every inch of her. And watching her accept him into her body…
His. She was his.
He lost it. Still kneeling between her legs, he hammered into her and lifted her hips to meet each plunge. He hooked her legs over his shoulders and watched her breasts bounce as he went to town. The bed spr
ings creaked, and the headboard banged against the wall until Eva grabbed the edge to steady herself.
“Cam,” she gasped.
“Yes. Keep saying my name. I want it on your lips when you come.”
Oh, it was on her lips all right. She ignited a second later, screaming his name, when he pressed his thumb to her clit. It was all he needed. He pumped his hips once, twice more, then found his own release in hard jets that left him shaking.
“Holy shit.” Eva’s legs dropped off his shoulders and thunked heavily to the mattress. “We should’ve done this a long time ago.”
Cam collapsed forward, catching himself on his hands on either side of her head, and balanced over her for a long time. Waited for his breathing to settle. “We’re gonna do it again real soon.”
She snorted. “I can’t move.”
That hollow where her shoulder met her neck was intriguing. He lowered himself on top of her, careful to balance most of his weight on his forearms, and traced the spot with his lips. She made a cute little sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan. He smiled against her skin and tested the area with his tongue. She squirmed. Yup. They were going to do it again sooner than she thought, and he was going to take his time with round two. Now that he’d gotten years of pent up sexual tension out of his system, he could slow it down.
Tease.
Explore.
Before the night was over, he planned to know every square inch of Eva Cardoso’s body by heart.
Chapter Six
As the first tendrils of pink lit the sky in the east, the slight change from complete dark to half-dark roused Eva from a doze and her stomach lurched. Overhead, the ceiling started a slow spin.
Oh, God. She was going to be sick.
She bolted toward the bathroom. Since all of her friends were men who knew how to pack away alcohol, she’d built up a decent tolerance over the years and hadn’t prayed to the porcelain god since college. She made up for lost time now, retching until she had nothing left in her stomach. Drinking all those shots in quick succession had been such a bad idea.
Eva flushed the toilet and brushed her teeth, then glugged some mouthwash directly out of the tiny complimentary bottle. But, no. The alcoholic burn made her stomach threaten another revolt. She gagged and spit it out.
Straightening, she surveyed her naked reflection in the mirror. Her hair stuck up around her head in a knotted mess. Her nipples puckered in the air-conditioned chill, and a vivid memory of a hot mouth teasing them had her dampening expectantly in the tender place between her thighs.
Sex hair. Swollen lips. Chin and cheeks chaffed by beard stubble. Happy nipples. She looked like a well-loved woman. So why did she feel so hollow?
Tell me to stop.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
With her head completely clear for the first time in hours, she staggered from the bathroom. No way did she have wild against-the-door sex with Cam. In the midst of her alcoholic daze, she must have superimposed his face over some other guy’s. She’d done it at least once before—okay, more than once. In fact, more often than she cared to admit, she’d let her imagination wander to him while she was in bed with Preston. But it wasn’t being unfaithful. Sometimes she needed a little extra something to reach orgasm, and the forbidden fruit fantasy was her favorite.
Fantasy being the key word.
Please, not Cam. She’d be okay seeing anybody else in that bed except him. He was the only steady, uncomplicated thing in her life, and if she’d gone and fucked it all up—well, then she was no better than her mother.
Eva stumbled to a halt and wrapped her arms around her middle, gulping down another surge of sickness. In her absence, Cam—it was definitely him—had sprawled in the most awkward position, his arms wrapped around two pillows, one leg bent slightly at the knee, the other extended with his foot hanging off the edge of the mattress, and his body twisted so he was half on his stomach and half on his side.
He was naked.
From the foot of the bed, she had a perfect view of all his assets. Wide shoulders. Tribal tattoo wrapping his right shoulder and bicep. A slim waist and the sexy as hell dip at the small of his back dusted lightly with hair. A tight, muscular ass. Thick thighs.
And…everything else.
Semi-erect, his cock pressed into the mattress. His hips even moved in his sleep as if he dreamed of taking her again.
He had taken her, too. Completely. He’d dominated her and she’d let him. Worse, she enjoyed it. She’d never before allowed her lovers to take absolute control like that. So why had she let Cam?
Holy shit. She’d slept with Cam.
What had she done?
Panic kicked her heart rate into a gallop, and she couldn’t draw a full breath. She couldn’t face him in the light of day. What would she say? Thanks? And what about their friendship? Would he wake up expecting more than that from her?
I’ve waited too long to have you under me.
Oh, she couldn’t do this.
Frantic to escape, she gathered her bathroom things as quietly as possible. She’d already repacked her clothes in anticipation of her departure tomorrow morning, and her bag still lay on the floor, right where Cam had tripped over it. Her dress spilled off the corner of the bed and pooled to the floor like a splash of satin blood. She didn’t bother putting it back on, but stuffed it in her bag and found a pair of cotton shorts, a support tank, and a comfy over-sized T-shirt. Nor did she bother with a brush, opting instead to tie her hair up in a sloppy bun. She grabbed her gun and holster from the bedside table. A pair of flip-flops, her key card, and she was out the door with her bag slung over her shoulder.
She needed space. And time. And to be completely sober. Maybe then she’d be capable of processing this one night stand like a mature, rational adult.
Because right now, she sure as fuck didn’t feel the least bit rational.
…
Sunlight splashed over the bed, warm and cheery—and completely fucking merciless in its brightness. It stabbed through Cam’s eyelids like two flaming stakes, jolting him from a dead sleep. Groaning, he stuffed his head under a pillow with every intention of going back to dreamland until his brain stopped pounding. But now that he was semi-conscious, he couldn’t shake the niggling sense that something was…off. He eased the pillow away from his face and blinked a couple times at the light. What brilliant designer decided it was a good idea to line two of the four walls in the room with floor-to-ceiling windows anyway? Especially when one such wall faced directly east. Were people not allowed to sleep past dawn in Key West?
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly dawn. The alarm clock on the bedside table said it was a little after ten. But anything before noon was ungodly early after a night like last night.
Although, in truth, he didn’t feel half bad. Besides the expected hangover headache and some tightness in his lower back, he was pretty damn happy. He lay sprawled across the bed on his belly, the sheet in a twisted knot around his legs and hips. All of the pillows scattered the floor, save for the one he’d burrowed underneath when the blasted sunshine woke him—
Wait. The other half of the bed was empty.
Eva.
Cam bolted upright and hissed as his head made it known in no uncertain terms that it despised him at the moment. He disengaged his legs from the sheet and sat up on the edge of the mattress, cradling his forehead in his palms until some of the throbbing subsided. After several long minutes, he cautiously lifted his gaze to scan the room.
Her dress was gone. So was the duffel bag that he’d tripped over the night before.
“No.” He scrambled to his feet, crossed the room, and pulled open the closet, a small part of him hoping maybe she’d stashed the bag out of the way before a morning coffee run.
Nope. Empty.
Bathroom, too.
The only thing she’d left behind was a thong hanging from the desk lamp.
“Goddammit!” Anger mixed liberally with despair into a nasty slurry in his stomach. He
shoved the closet door shut hard enough to rattle it in its frame, than banged the flat of his hand against it because slamming it hadn’t been satisfying enough.
She’d up and left without waking him or leaving a note. And he bet when he got back to his room and checked his phone, there would be no call or text from her, either. She might as well have shoved a knife in his back before she took off. Would have hurt a helluva lot less.
The locking mechanism on the front door whirred and Cam spun toward it, his heart doing a fleetingly hopeful jig behind his ribs. So maybe Eva had gone out for coffee or—
The door swung open. And while the maid standing on the other side shared Eva’s caramel complexion and dark hair, coloring was the only resemblance between them. Small and curvy, the maid had a weathered, been there, done that look to her and she wore her graying hair in a tail tight enough to give her an automatic face-lift. She froze when she spotted him, the master key card dropping from her hand. It was on one of those retractable chains and whipped back to the clip on her apron with a ziiip sound that was unnaturally loud in the awkward silence.
And there he stood, his tackle on display for anyone walking by in the hallway. “Uh…”
The maid crossed her arms underneath her ample breasts. “You need to leave,” she said in a heavy smoker’s voice with only the slightest hint of a Spanish accent. After the initial shock of seeing him wore off, she didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his nudity, but he still snapped up his shorts from where they’d dropped last night and tugged them on.
“The woman staying in this room…do you know where she is?” he asked as he bent to retrieve his shirt.
Her disapproving frown only deepened. “Not here. She checked out this morning. Now you need to leave or I’ll call security.”
And there went his last shred of hope that last night had meant more to Eva than a wham, bam, thank you, sir.
Cam breathed out in a soft sigh of resignation then fished his own key card out of his pocket. He held it up between two fingers and showed it to the maid. “No, don’t do that. I’m a guest here, too.”
“Not in this room you’re not.”
Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) Page 5
