One Perfect Night

by Rachael Johns

  “Thanks,” Peppa said, not able to think of anything else suitable.

  “No, thank you,” Rose said firmly. “It’s been a long time coming. After his heartbreak four years ago I wondered if he’d ever find anyone special again.” She sniffed, but covered too much emotion with a strained smile.

  Peppa smiled softly, willing Rose to elaborate. Right alongside her desire to feel Cameron’s lips against hers, was a need to know what exactly had constituted his heartbreak. A need to know everything about the man who had made her body sing sweeter than ever before simply with a few mischievous strokes of his hand.

  But either Rose assumed Peppa already knew or she didn’t want to break his confidence. “Seeing you with him is the best Christmas present ever.” With that endorsement, she pulled Peppa into a quick hug, then reached sideways and picked up a tower of three containers. “Heat these up and serve them with vanilla ice-cream. Delicious.”

  “Thanks. And thank you so much for dinner.”

  Peppa followed Auntie Rose back into the living room and quickly made her goodbyes. Moments later, she stepped into the dark, expecting to see Cameron and the limo.

  Aside from distant music and solar lights illuminating the pathway from the house to the road, the night was quiet and dark. No sign of either Cameron or the limo. Clutching the leftover desserts in one hand, Peppa put her other hand against her chest, trying to still the pounding in her heart. He wouldn’t have just left her here. Would he?

  “Cameron?” When there was no response to her gentle call, she sucked in much-needed air and began the walk past the garage toward the road. Her fairy heels clicked against the cobbled path as she contemplated how accepting Cameron’s family had been. She got the feeling he’d been hoping to shock them by bringing her, but no one had raised an eyebrow at her costume and all had been accepting without question. She couldn’t help wishing it wasn’t a farce…that somehow she could be a part of such a large close-knit family.

  As she reached the end of the building, a hand shot out and tugged her toward a deep rumbly voice. “Finally.” A voice that sent pheromones rushing to her head, a voice she’d now recognize instantly.

  A voice that wiped her mind clean of all thought except its owner.

  Cameron pulled her tight against his body, his hands rushing to cup her cheeks as his lips desperately sought hers. Her breasts tingled against his chest and his arousal pressed against her thigh. The containers clattered to the ground.

  “Leave them,” he ordered, pulling away only long enough to utter this direction.

  Somewhere a dog howled its disapproval.

  “With pleasure,” she slurred, her body drunk from the pleasure of one illicit kiss. The setting reminded her of her first kiss behind the sports shed on the school playing field.

  That was where the similarities ended.

  He twisted her round and she thanked the Lord for the support of the garage door as Cameron leaned in close and claimed her mouth once again. No teenage kiss had ever come close. And she knew, as his tongue trailed a line between her lips, as her mouth opened and welcomed him, as his hands sought her buttocks and drew her so close she couldn’t tell where his heat finished and hers began, that no kiss would come close ever again.

  She knew she ought to resist. Rob her lips of his mouth and tear her hands from his heat, but resistance was futile. If he didn’t mind playing with fire, if he didn’t view their working relationship as a problem, who was she to object?

  Her hands roved over his arms, his shoulders and his perfect six-pack abs. Every muscle in his body seemed to be drawn bowstring tight. She pulled back, staring into his eyes. Her gaze met with a raw energy she wanted to believe had everything to do with the way she felt in his arms, but a tiny voice inside reminded her of his strange reaction when he’d heard about Ella’s pregnancy.

  “I’m taking you home,” Cameron growled, his face still only inches from hers, his hands tangled in her hair.

  “Yes.” Knowing as the word slipped from her lips in a husky breath that he wasn’t simply escorting her home. Knowing that he expected an invitation inside for coffee.

  Considering she’d only just met him, considering who he was…the mere thought of what coffee entailed should have sent her running for the mountains. And, he was obviously far more experienced than she.

  Instead it made her legs wobble, her pulse thunder and her breasts ache.

  Perhaps pure physical gratification was exactly what she needed to forget her woes for the night. Would it be so wrong to take what Cameron was offering, to prove to herself she was as female as the next woman?

  “What about my car?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the simple thought of the night’s simple promise. Of Cameron’s unspoken promise. “I have to drive to my parents’ place in the morning.”

  “Forget the car.” He tugged her even closer and, practically caressing her ear with his tongue, he mumbled, “I’ll get you back to it tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Good idea. Forget the car. Nice plan.”

  Almost as nice as the feel of his lips against her neck. Oh God!

  Stepping up to her apartment, Peppa slipped her key into her front door. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she pushed open the door and practically ran toward the kitchen.

  “What’s the rush?” Cameron caught her swinging hand and spun her round to face him. Heat zinged up her arm.

  She swallowed, her mouth dry at the sight of this big, powerful, outrageously sexy man pulsating testosterone in her hallway. “Coffee?” she only just managed.

  He shook his head, a sinister smile bewitching his gifted lips. “Honey, we both know, I’m not here for the coffee.”

  “No?” Somewhere deep inside her the heat pooled and her hormones danced a celebratory jig.

  “Definitely no.”

  Then, before she could contemplate whether she’d even bothered to make the bed that morning, he kicked the door shut behind them and swept her into his arms. He made her feel light and feminine and she wondered what other magical feelings he could inspire.

  “I didn’t spend all evening fantasizing about drinking coffee…” Cameron carried her down the corridor as if he’d been in her flat a thousand times before. He didn’t seem to notice the underwear drying on the backs of dining chairs or her new ginger kitten, Fred, perched halfway up the Christmas tree. His eyes had only one target. Her. “And I’d bet you didn’t spend all evening fantasizing about coffee either.”

  He paused at the end of the hallway, his gaze traveling across the two closed doors.

  “The left one,” she said, a rush of courage spurring her words.

  Still holding her to him, he opened the door and stood at the entrance of the room, surveying. “Very girly,” he observed as he took in her pink bedspread—thankfully made—and her cascade of ribboned cushions on top.

  She raised a brow and met his gaze. “I didn’t come in here to chat about the decor.”

  “Oh?” His tone matched his sweetly sinister smile. “What exactly are you here for?”

  The chance to feel alive again. To feel period.

  “We could start with discussing your fantasy.” She slipped a hand inside his shirt and traveled over taut muscle to roll one nipple between her fingers. “And then we could do our best to make it come true.”

  He sucked in air and pressed one hand against his chest, stilling her sensual exploration. “I’m not big on chatting. Let’s bypass the discussing part and go straight to making it come true.”

  Cameron laid Penelope on the bed, taking a moment to stare unashamedly at his dainty fairy. Her golden hair sprawled across the cushions like a silky fan, her jade eyes sparkling like dew on early morning grass and her costume simply driving him wild. All night he’d been desperate to unzip her scanty dress and slide it down and over those fishnet-stocking-covered legs.

  Desperate to explore the flesh underneath.

  Desperate was an understatement. From that near-kiss in the bathr
oom, his blood had been pounding so hard south, he could feel the vibration in pulse-points all over his body. Then when Tony’s announcement threatened his breathing and clenched muscles everywhere, all he’d wanted was to seek release in the best way possible.

  His thoughts had immediately snapped to Kristen, to the dream they’d shared of creating their own family like the one Rose had welcomed him into. Many a time, they’d spent the evening fantasizing about what lay ahead, dreaming of a time they’d buy a bigger, family-friendly house, baby-proof it. They’d thought they had all the time in the world but they’d been wrong. Just when they’d been about to start trying for a baby, Kristen had been taken from him.

  Despite not wanting to upset Auntie Rose with his sudden departure, he’d had to get away. Escape couldn’t come fast enough.

  Sitting up a little, Peppa grinned at him, the mischief and desire stretching right up to her eyes. “Are we waiting for a reason?”

  Inwardly he cursed. She was a minx and he liked it. Her impish antics had his groin aching with desire but she didn’t need to know that yet. He folded his arms. “Just trying to teach you a bit of patience.”

  A frilly pink cushion came zooming toward him and he darted just in time.

  “Fair play. I deserved that.” Then, yanking open the top few buttons of his shirt, he sat next to her and took the liberty to trace his hand from her chin down the side of her body. His thumb brushed over the curve of her breast and he felt her diaphragm suck in air. “Truthfully, I was trying to decide whether to use the slow or the speedy approach when ridding you of that costume.”

  She wet her lips with her tongue, her voice husky when she spoke. “And have you come to a decision?”

  “Close your eyes, lean back and I’ll show you.”

  Without a word, she fell into the cushions and squeezed her eyes shut. He shucked his shirt and jacket, already feeling hot and heady. Within moments he straddled her, his erection swelling against his trousers as his hands found the hem of her ridiculous tutu. She moaned, her body responding instantly as he caressed her inner thighs.

  “Cameron.” She reached up, tried to tug him closer, her fingers digging in at his waistband, and although his heart kicked over at the desperate way she uttered his name, he’d barely begun. He had plans for a long night of languorous love-making where they both reached their peak over and over and over again.

  He clasped her wandering hands, securing them up over her head and lowered his mouth to claim her lips. As his tongue explored the intricacies of her delicious mouth, his hands sought her hair. So thick, so golden, so wild—the sensation of its silkiness between his palms stimulating like a drug.

  And boy did she know how to kiss.

  Her tongue rolled with his, teasing, claiming, enticing until he felt himself losing control.

  He lifted his mouth slightly and smiled at the tiny moan which escaped her lips. They were both on a fast-track to oblivion. Wanting to watch her writhe at his touch, he trailed his tongue from her lips to her ear and then slowly down her neck, where he pressed hot, wet kisses against her smooth skin.

  Her head rolled, thrusting up the outline of her two teasingly perfect breasts. Suddenly that blasted sexy costume seemed more of a hindrance than a turn-on. One hand still at her neck, he let the other wander downward over her delicate curve of cleavage. As he cupped one breast, her body contracted beneath his touch and his own body responded.

  Definitely time to lose the clothing.

  “Right, that was the slow part,” he informed her. “Time to pick up the pace.”

  “That was slow?” She opened her eyes, incredulity evident in her voice.

  “Snail pace,” he replied dryly. “Now it’s time to hold on for the ride.”

  In one swift maneuver, he spun her over, so she was on top of him. His hands sought the tag of her zipper and he smiled at the sound as he yanked it down. The dress peeled off like an extra layer of skin, leaving a near-naked fairy, hot and heavily breathing in his arms. Her breasts strained against the fabric of a sumptuous red, lace bra. He itched to take her nipples one after the other in his mouth, through the fabric, and feel them peak under the coaxing of his tongue.

  But they’d moved on to fast.

  So, instead, he reached around and unclipped her bra, a carnal moan erupting deep within them both as Penelope’s beautiful breasts spilled free.

  “I thought we were supposed to be going fast,” she chastised as he stared openly at her perfect form.

  His mouth was almost too dry to reply but he felt her fingers curl under his buttocks. She leaned closer, her nipples scraping his bare chest as she tried to undo his fly. He took a short, sharp breath, realizing he needed to strip her of the rest of her clothing before she stripped him of his ability to function properly.

  Her lips about to land on his, he sat up slightly, groaning as her sex brushed over his aching groin. Despite the layer of red lace and fishnet stockings, the feel of her half-clothed did more to him than any fully naked woman ever had. He pushed that thought aside. He didn’t want to waste time taking off her shoes, but when it came to sex, he liked a level playing field. And he’d left his shoes at the door.

  “There’s a clip at the back,” she hissed as he fumbled and cursed trying to wrench the pointy slippers off. “Here let me.”

  He restrained from touching her for a second as she took over. Then, when her shoes were tossed aside, she slipped to the edge of the bed and his blood pressure almost burst a valve in his chest while he watched her quickly peel off her stockings and knickers. As she hadn’t succeeded in her mission to help him lose his trousers, he quickly skimmed them down his legs and stood naked before her. His muscles twitching with excitement.

  “Now, where were we?” she asked, a wicked glint in her eyes.

  He puffed out one hot breath and pulled her back onto him, positioning her just above his erection. “Right. About. Here.”

  “Ooh yeah.” Her throaty voice spiked his cerebellum as, hot and already wet, she slid down onto his tip.

  He wanted nothing more than to lose himself inside her but just before she sheathed him completely, common sense prevailed.

  Swearing, he gently pushed her upward and when pained surprise tainted her generous eyes, he set to right the situation quickly. “Protection,” he explained.

  Her eyes flickered closed and opened again. “Please, tell me you have some.”

  He nodded, easing out from under her and seeking his wallet in his trouser pocket. “I was never a Boy Scout, but I’m a big believer in always being prepared.”

  He held up a small foil packet and she pulled him back to her. She took the packet in her teeth, tearing it open before discarding it over her shoulder and easing the condom onto him. He shuddered under her fatal touch. “Fast remember.”

  “I remember,” she said, reaching up to touch her lips to his.

  And then they lost themselves in a tangle of legs, arms, mouths and insatiable lust. He’d never felt so out of control in his life.

  Her fingernails dug into his back as he drove himself farther, deeper, inside her tantalizing wetness. His rapid breathing matched hers as she clenched her inner muscles, driving him totally insane.

  “You’re out of this world,” he whispered, knowing in seconds he’d be totally incapable of speech.

  Her response was physical. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him even more. Sweet sweat made their bodies slippery and the even sweeter smell of their union was like an aphrodisiac. Not that they needed any encouragement.

  Then, just when he thought he couldn’t go a moment longer without exploding with desire, she screamed his name. “Cameron!”

  And he thrust deep one final time, taking them both spiraling into paradise.

  Chapter Four

  As sunshine dawned on Christmas morning, Peppa woke hot, naked and with her limbs aching as if they’d taken up synchronized swimming—or some equally unnatural sport.

  Naked?

/>   Her body froze. Goose bumps swamped her skin as memories of the previous night zapped her like an electric shock. Champagne. Cameron. Bliss. No way would Father Christmas have been able to leave presents with all the unexpected action going on in her bedroom.

  The shock quickly made way for a smile as she rolled over. But fantasies of watching Cameron sleep or waking him with a lazy, indulgent exploration of his talented body were short-lived. Where his head had molded her spare pillow only hours earlier, Fred now slept, purring contentedly.

  What did you expect? Breakfast in bed? She scolded her whimsical romantic heart as she pulled the kitten’s warm, furry body into her arms. His ginger coat felt smooth against her bare chest but did nothing to soothe the heavy, almost sad beat that strummed deep within.

  How could she have ever reasoned that sleeping with Cameron McCormac was a good idea?

  Uh, do you want me to write a list? The previously repressed nymphomaniac side of her conscience spat sarcastically.

  While she tried to crush the voice with a metaphorical baseball bat, she had to concede it made a good point. Never before, not even in three long years with Tim had she been made to feel so sensual, so alive, so feminine as she had last night. It couldn’t be denied Lyrique’s new head certainly knew his way around the female body. His erotic exploration had unleashed some kind of banshee within her. The tender spot between her legs throbbed at the reminder of just how uninhibited she’d been.

  She cringed, one hand rushing to ease her temples which pulsed with a different kind of pain. Panic.

  What if they ran into each other at work? Not that it had ever happened before, but being his employee, being in the same building, there was every chance they could. Why hadn’t such thoughts of embarrassment yanked her back to her senses last night? She clung to the hope that office life would continue as per usual and she’d never even see Cameron at work. Although that thought left an empty feeling in her gut, as well.