by Katee Robert
The bed dipped beneath his weight and then he was there, covering her with his body. His clothes scraped lightly against her skin, a barrier she wanted gone, but Trish couldn’t focus with his weight settling over her like the best kind of promise. This was happening. They were doing this.
She grabbed his hand and pressed it to the center of her chest, directly over the spot he’d almost touched her that day back in her apartment. “Touch me,” she repeated. “Make it better than I imagined.”
He spread his fingers, nearly covering her chest completely from collarbone to collarbone. Cameron shifted his hand up, dragging his thumb along the front of her throat as he cupped the back of her neck and tilted her face up to meet his. He kissed her slowly, beginning with the softest brushing of his lips against hers and then teasing her mouth open with his tongue. The soft kiss was directly at odds with the way he spread her thighs with his own and ground against her clit, his cock a hard ridge in his pants. “This is what you want.”
It wasn’t a question, but she refused to allow the slightest hint of blurred lines between them. Trish kissed his neck, his jaw, and finally reclaimed his mouth. “This is what I want, Cameron. Don’t stop touching me.”
CHAPTER NINE
CAMERON HAD SPENT himself more times than he wanted to count with fantasies of having Trish naked beneath him. It was almost enough for him to believe this was a fever dream caused by jacking himself one time too many to the map of the freckles on her body. But as he stroked her tongue with his, there was no denying that this was happening. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck. “I’ve wanted to do this since that day in your apartment.”
He started with the freckle directly over her left breast. Cameron had always had a damn good memory, and he put it to use now, marking a path from freckle to freckle with his mouth. He lingered on the curves of her small breasts, on her pretty pink nipples, on the soft lines of her stomach, before finally settling between her thighs.
Trish gasped out a breath she’d been holding. “Wow.”
“That was only one path. I’ll revisit...later.” He ran his cheek along one thigh and then the other, enjoying the way her entire body flushed at the contact. He spread her thighs wider. As much as he wanted to drive into her, knowing her orgasm had already primed her, he wanted a taste more. Cameron had pictured doing this so many times. He wouldn’t let anyone rush him—not even himself.
He dragged his tongue up the center of her pussy and growled at the way she jumped. As if he’d attached a live wire to his tongue. “Relax, Trish. Enjoy this.”
“Relax, Trish,” she mimicked breathlessly. “You’re asking the impossible.”
Despite himself, he grinned against her heated flesh. Cameron pinned her squirming hips and gave himself over to the taste of her on his tongue and the way she cried out every time he circled her clit. She was close. Her hips tried to rise to meet his mouth, but he kept her in place, determined to drive her ruthlessly over the edge, to feel her come on his tongue. He needed it like he’d never needed anything before, and like hell would she deny him.
“Cameron.” Trish’s back bowed as she orgasmed.
He’d barely managed to lift his head when she grabbed his arms and yanked. Cameron crawled up her body, but stopped while still on his hands and knees. “Fuck. Condoms.”
“Oh yeah, that.” She rolled from beneath him and teetered over to her suitcase, and he took the opportunity to strip. He glanced over as she returned with a giant box of condoms. Trish caught his incredulous look and gave a sheepish smile. “Hope springs eternal.” She yanked out a condom and tore open the foil packet. One well-placed nudge and he was on his back with her straddling him.
The desire in her blue eyes hadn’t abated, but there was mischief there now, too. She smiled as she slowly rolled the condom onto his cock and gave him a stroke. “Oh yeah. This is happening.”
He barked out a laugh. “Your dirty talk is superb.”
“I don’t need dirty talk.” She shifted up and notched his cock in her entrance. Before he had a chance to brace, she sank down until he was sheathed to the hilt. Trish hissed out a breath. “Lordy, you’re big.”
He cupped her hips, trying to keep her still while her body accustomed itself to him, but she was already moving, rolling her hips a little. With the faint light from the window behind her, she looked like an angel, blond curls in a halo around her head and the soft lines of her body shifting sensuously as she rode his cock. Trish planted her hands on his chest and picked up her pace, sliding almost completely off him and then slamming back down. “God, Cameron, you feel good. Better than good. There aren’t proper filthy words to describe how good.”
“You’re doing a damn good job of describing it.” He arched off the bed and caught her mouth, needing to taste her even as she rode him. She followed him back to the bed, her fucking him turning into something slower, deeper, her breasts sliding against his chest with every stroke. Yes. This. He squeezed her ass, using the leverage to grind her clit against his pelvis as he thrust up.
“Yes.” She gasped. “Do that again. Keep doing that.”
He obeyed. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Pleasure danced down his spine, taking up residence in his balls and the base of his cock, but Cameron ruthlessly held it at bay. He wanted to feel her come again, needed it. He thrust again and again and again.
Trish came with a cry loud enough to make the windows rattle. She slumped against his chest and he rolled them so he could settle between her thighs. The look of sated pleasure on her face was almost enough to make him blow right then and there, but he gritted his teeth and wrestled himself back under control.
Then, and only then, did he kiss her. Slow and deep and exploring as if he hadn’t had his mouth all over her body not too long ago. He kissed her until she seemed to come back to herself, until she wrapped her legs around his waist and writhed beneath him where he had her pinned to the bed.
He pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. Cameron smoothed a hand down her spine, enjoying the way her muscles flexed beneath his touch and her ass rose in offering. She had freckles smattering her back and the curves of her ass, too, and he reached between her thighs to stroke her pussy as he mentally traced the path he planned on taking. He had the fanciful thought that one day he’d like to paint constellations on her skin.
“Oh God, I don’t know if I can go again.” She moaned against her pillow. But her hips moved to meet his hand again and again.
Cameron leaned down and set his teeth against the back of her neck. “I’m not through with you, Trish.”
“Oh, well, then... Carry on.” She laughed helplessly, the sound turning into a moan as he pushed two fingers into her.
“Ride my hand, Trish. Take what you need.” He kissed down her spine, straying to one side or the other to trace her freckles with his tongue. Her hips bucked against his hand, but he held steady, needed to feel her come apart again.
She went still with a shudder. “It’s not enough. I need your cock.”
The words made him harder than he’d ever been. He forced himself to give the small of her back the same care and attention he’d spent on the rest of her body, but he was more than ready to meet her need as he nudged her knees farther apart and notched his cock in her entrance. He fed her inch after inch, keeping her still with a hand on her hip until he was sheathed to the hilt. He closed his eyes, but the sight of her was too much to resist.
This time, there would be no holding back. He needed this—her—too much.
Cameron gripped her hips and brought her back as he thrust forward. She cried out, and he almost stopped, but Trish reached back and bracketed his wrist with a hand. “Harder, Cameron. I need more.”
“I need it, too.” He gave himself over to the feel of fucking her, her pussy clamping tight on him with every stroke, her cries and the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling th
e room. She came with his name on her lips, and he followed her willingly over the edge with a curse of his own.
As Cameron slumped onto the mattress next to her, he was struck by the thought that he might follow this woman anywhere.
* * *
Trish stared at the ceiling and wondered when the hell her life had taken a hard turn into crazy town. Was it when she moved back in with her parents after college? When she’d agreed to take the job working for Aaron? The second she set eyes on Cameron O’Clery?
Wherever the tipping point was, the end result had her naked and breathing hard with the taste of Cameron lingering on her lips.
She’d loved every second of it.
“Aaron can’t know.”
She closed her eyes and counted silently to five—and then to ten. “Did you think I was going to run straight from being in bed with you to call my brother and tell him we just had sex?”
A pause and, despite not looking at him, she could almost see the gears turning in Cameron’s head as he mentally replayed what he’d just said. He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t tactful.”
“You think?”
His big hand settled on her stomach. “Trish, look at me.”
She didn’t want to. Opening her eyes meant having to fight to reclaim the mask, and she didn’t have the energy right now. Being bright and positive had been her go-to thing for so long, she didn’t always notice she was doing it. It barely took effort anymore to smile and make people’s days better.
It took effort with Cameron. So much freaking effort. Mostly because he insisted on demanding the truth from her over and over again.
He skated his hand up the center of her chest to cup her jaw. “Trish.”
She sighed and opened her eyes. If Cameron O’Clery was devastating in the office while wearing clothes, he was downright heartbreaking naked in bed with her. Something about his expression looked softer here, as if some artist had painted him in gentle golden tones. His dark skin stretched over an impossibly broad chest, drawing her eyes south, ever south, to where the sheets hid the lower half of his body from her view. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He huffed out a laugh. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It has me all fucked in the head, and I’m even less tactful than normal.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
Another of those soft laughs. “That makes two of us.” His smile dimmed. “But since we’re in an uncomfortable position on two fronts, we have to talk about this.”
She knew that. Really, she did. She had just hoped to get to enjoy the afterglow from the glorious sex for a few minutes before they jumped right into talking about the nitty-gritty details. Trish forced herself to smile. “Sure. We can’t tell Aaron. I’m aware of that.” Her brother didn’t usually fall into overprotective jerk mode, but there was a first time for everything. Beyond that, he already had enough to worry about with his new baby and a wedding to plan.
Cameron seemed to weigh his next words. “Our relationship while on the clock can’t change. We’re already blurring the lines too much as it is. If we let it bleed over into Tandem Security...”
“We won’t. It’s as simple as that.” She glanced at the clock. “What are the odds our food is still warm?”
His laugh rumbled through her body in the most delicious way possible. “Even I can take that hint.” Cameron pressed a light kiss to her temple that she felt all the way to her toes. “Let’s feed you and then we can go over the next steps.”
For a second, she thought he meant they were going to detail the rules and boundaries for sex versus no sex, but as he pulled on his pants and headed for the door, Trish realized he’d already made the jump back to business. She stared after him. What the hell did I get myself into?
You know exactly what. This is what you wanted.
It was. She just had to remember that, as she navigated a new existence where she knew what it felt like to come on Cameron’s cock.
Trish touched her hair, but it was a lost cause. She’d need another shower to have any hope of taming it, but since their first meeting was tomorrow, it’d have to do for now. A quick rummage through her suitcase for something comfortable to wear, and she walked out to find Cameron setting out the food on the table.
He glanced at her and went still. “What is that?”
She froze. “What?”
“What are you wearing?”
Oh. That. She glanced down at the oversize shirt she’d bought on a whim. It had Minnie Mouse on it and, now that she thought about it, it was probably something a child would wear. “You have a problem with Minnie?”
“I have a problem with the fact that you need to eat, and I see you in that and all I want to do is toss the food and have you on the table instead.”
“Oh.” Trish blinked. “Oh.”
Cameron shook his head. “Sit down and eat something.”
For the first time in well over a week, she found herself enjoying his abruptness. Trish sank into her seat and grinned. “Is it that the shirt is large enough to fit three of me that gets you going? Or is it a secret Minnie Mouse fetish?”
He set her fish and chips in front of her and dropped into the seat opposite. “You could wear a paper bag and I’d still want to tear the damn thing off you.” He picked up a french fry. “It’d be easier to get into than most clothes, so there’s something to be said for that.”
“You just made a joke.”
“I do that on occasion.”
“Huh.” Trish took a few bites. That seemed to satisfy him that she was going to eat instead of waste away before his eyes, because Cameron set to his food with a single-minded focus she’d only ever seen in athletes and big dudes. When she’d eaten as much as her stomach could handle for the time being, she sat back and found him watching her. “What?”
“I don’t get it.”
“There’s a legion of things you don’t get.”
He frowned at her, completely undeterred by her attempt at humor. “Aaron is good at making people around him happy, but he’s not a people pleaser in the strictest sense of the word. He has no problem telling me to fuck off when the situation calls for it, and he’s ended more than a few client relationships when things went south. It didn’t tear him up to make that call.”
She saw where this train of thought was going, and almost derailed it. Cameron had made abundantly clear that he wanted sex-them and work-them separate, but here in this suite with her body still aching from the wonderful things he’d done to it, the line had already blurred. She took a sip of bottled water. “There wasn’t a question in there.”
“I’m getting to it.” He sat back, the muscles in his chest rippling in a way that made her clench her hands to keep from reaching for him. Cameron gave her another of those searching looks where it almost seemed like he could read her mind. “I’ve met your parents. They’re decent people, and your older sister runs more traditional than either you or Aaron, but she’s not a basket case.”
“Did you just call me a basket case?”
“So where does the nervous shit come from?” He continued without bothering to answer her question. “You...flicker. I thought you were really sunshine personified, but that’s the shield—or the sword, depending on the situation. What happened that you need walls that strong?”
Good Lord, he wasn’t just making idle conversation. He’d gone straight past polite small talk and right to her heart of hearts. Trish forced herself not to fidget and met his gaze directly. “Why do you want to know?”
That set him back. “What?”
“It’s a pretty simple question.”
Cameron seemed to mull that over with the same intensity he gave everything in life. “I want to know more about you. I don’t understand you.”
It was both an encouragin
g reason and one that cut her knees right out from beneath her. Curiosity. He was curious about her, like she was a bug he couldn’t quite identify and it would annoy the hell out of him until he had her properly categorized and filed away. Then he’d move on and forget all about her as anything other than a vaguely fond memory.
Isn’t that what you want? This was never supposed to be forever.
That was fine. It was even fair.
But it didn’t mean she had to rip herself open for the sake of his curiosity.
Trish pushed her food away. “If you want to know more about me, you start simple. It’s only the proper way to do things.”
“Simple.” He said the word as if tasting it. “All right. What do you do when you’re not overworking yourself on unpaid time?”
The way he asked the question had her making a mental note to check her direct deposit on payday. She should have known Cameron would be keeping an account of all the time she spent in the office during nonworking hours. Silly of her to think he’d missed it.
Trish almost told him there was nothing simple about that question, but “What do you do for fun?” was about as baseline as first date questions went. This isn’t a first date. This is a first...
I don’t know what this is.
She took another sip of her water. “I watch horror movies and I crochet.”
Cameron sat back and draped his arm over his chair. “The crocheting fits. You have this retro thing going on that is too quirky to be anything but genuine. Explain the horror movies. Why that genre?”
The fact he’d studied her enough to decide that her retro thing was genuine and not another mask... Trish pulled at the bottom of her shirt, not sure if she was flattered or flayed wide-open. Maybe this wasn’t such a simple question, after all. “I like horror. There are rules and while you get more than your fair share of stupid people doing stupid things, it’s usually some offbeat heroine who ends up as the last one standing in the face of whatever evil is killing off nubile teenagers. It’s really satisfying to know that, no matter how many sequels you’re going to get, good always triumphs over evil—and rarely looks pretty while doing it.” She hadn’t meant to say that last aloud.
