CHAPTER FOUR
A kiss.
One kiss.
How could one single kiss make her lose her mind?
Sure, it’d been hot and sexy.
Yes, she’d been shocked to know how much pleasure a tongue could give her while her clothes were still on. Hell, she’d never known that much pleasure, period.
Hope blew out a breath, wishing she could release the hot need churning through her system as easily. But how could she with the memory of Cameron’s mouth, so hot and mobile as it had danced over hers in a sensual invitation.
The taste of him, more addictingly rich and decadent than the best chocolate.
The feel of his body against hers, the hard planes and rigid muscles a sweet seduction that’d made her want.
Need.
Crave, even.
Hope drew in another breath, this one a little shaky as desire pulsed through her system.
All she’d been able to think about in the twenty hours since Cameron Drake had kissed her into a puddle was the feel of his lips.
Well, that kiss and his parting dare.
Because of that, she’d spent the last day alternating between hot flashes of desire and frustrated irritation.
Damn him, Hope scowled, flipping through the hangers in her closet for just the right dress for the auction to make him eat those words.
He thought he knew her so well.
He thought she was afraid of what other people thought?
Yeah, right. Years of never living up to her mother’s idea of the perfect lady had ended any and all worry about what others might think about her.
Dress in hand, Hope turned her scowl to the bedroom her mother had decorated, insisting that the fussy florals and delicate pastels suited her favorite child.
Favorite. Hope sighed, tossing the little black dress onto the four-poster bed. The only child of an ailing widow with a gift for guilt trips, Hope had given in on the bedroom décor just as she’d given in on so many other things. Because it’d made her mother happy.
She was doing the same thing now, she realized as she tossed her robe aside.
The town council wanted to put arbitrary rules on the center so they could get their own way. Fine. Instead of protesting or arguing, she simply found ways around those rules.
Cam wanted her to bid on him as if he were a piece of fine art, knowing that a bidding war with Rae Burton would put Hope in the position of losing a lot of respect from the very people she needed donations from.
Still, she’d tucked her checkbook and three credit cards into her evening purse.
He clearly expected them to have sex, which was why she’d tucked a dozen condoms in her purse, too. She had her own high expectations, after all.
Of course, Rae expected Hope to meekly stand aside so the wild redhead could have her way with Cameron’s body. Every time Hope thought about that, she had to stop herself from grinding her teeth.
Now that she’d had a taste of what Cameron’s mouth could do, she’d be damned if she’d let Rae’s silicone filled lips taste it, too.
Had she ever been so conflicted in her life?
Knowing the answer to that was a firm no, Hope shimmied into the tight black fabric of her dress. Even with a side zipper, the fit was snug. Just as she’d maneuvered the square cut bodice into place, she paused.
Frowned.
Glanced down at her already covered hips.
She might not have decided whether or not she was bidding on fantasy sex tonight, but she did have a dozen chances for it tucked away in her purse.
Hope wriggled right back out of the dress and hurried over to her dresser. She riffled through mounds of hosiery in search of black stockings to replace her boring pantyhose. She tossed a pair over her bare shoulder, then dug into another drawer for a garter belt. Then, hoping she didn’t jinx herself, she put it back and unwrapped the tissue on her La Perla boy shorts that had the built in garter. The black lace shimmered against her fingers as if promising magic.
She’d take all the magic she could get.
Hope stepped out of her pantyhose—and her comfort zone—and into fancy sex-wear.
Just sliding into the silk and lace made her feel as if she could do anything. She could take down Rae in a bidding war. She could face the judgmental looks and nasty behind-the-hand whispers. She could handle the reality that sex with Cameron was to build memories, not a future.
Within an hour, Hope was ready, willing and determined as she strode into the hotel in her little black dress, sexy lingerie and—to hell with the fact that ladies wore pink—Do Me Red lipstick.
“Hope, wow.” Bonnie’s smile was both welcoming and surprised. “You look hot.”
“Hot enough to take on Rae?” Hope wondered as butterflies did backflips in her belly.
“Hot enough to take on anyone,” Bonnie assured her, tucking her arm through Hope’s as they and dozens of others followed the signs advertising the First Annual Diver’s Cove Bachelor Auction. Before the stepped into the room, Bonnie leaned closer and whispered, “Can you believe Rae got the council to go along with marketing man meat?”
Hope’s laugh chased away the last of the butterflies.
But, unfortunately as they took their very prominent seats at the front of the ballroom, not her concerns. Those kept playing out, one against the other, as the auction began. Even as the calculating part of her mind tallied the take for each bachelor sold, she couldn’t decide what to do.
Then Cameron stepped onto the stage.
And every logical argument and even the illogical ones simply flew from her mind.
All Hope could do was stare.
And pray she didn’t drool.
In a typical bad boy move, he’d refused to wear his dress uniform. Instead, he wore the simple service uniform of black slacks and a khaki shirt. He stood at attention, eyes forward, hands at his sides and his expression neutral.
Hope wondered if anyone else could see how uncomfortable he was. There was just the faintest hint of a frown creasing his brows, and she was pretty sure he was clenching his teeth.
Poor sweetie.
All thought of letting him suffer through a date with Rae fled as sympathy surged. Since she couldn’t rush the stage and give him a hug, she’d have to settle for following orders.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Petty Officer Cameron Drake. A Navy SEAL from our very own Diver’s Cove, Cameron is a graduate of Roosevelt High and the owner of a brand new Harley. Ladies,” Pete March, the town council treasurer peered over the top of his glasses at the crowd. His bulldog face chided well ahead of his words, “Don’t forget, we have helmet laws.”
And then the bidding began.
Hope noted that Rae’s was the first hand in the air.
Cameron didn’t seem to be paying attention, though.
Instead, he was staring right at her. His eyes were intense, a smile playing over his lips. As if he were remembering what she’d tasted like. As if he were thinking about tasting her again.
Hope took a shaky breath, then lifted her chin high.
“You look fierce,” Bonnie observed with a surprised laugh. “Are you gearing up to bid?”
“No.” Ignoring the surprised looks from everyone seated around them, Hope stood. She didn’t want a single gesture to be overlooked. “I’m gearing up to win.”