Chapter Six
“This is it,” Lauren said as they neared her building. She looked over at the brick facade of the retail storefronts that sat as the foundation for the high-rise apartments. She took a deep breath, pulling the clean scent of his cologne into her lungs. “I told you it would have been faster for me to walk.”
“I’m officially jealous.” Cameron pulled into a loading area along the curb. “You can be home in a five minute walk, and I’m stuck in a car for at least ninety minutes a day.”
“But what a car.” They chuckled together as Lauren took in the spotless interior of the Jaguar. Not a napkin, coffee cup, or personal affect of any kind in sight.
“It’s Bob’s. There’s a huge SUV at the house, but I can barely justify the gas this one takes.” Cameron ran his hand through his dark hair, pushing it off his forehead.
Lauren turned in her seat to face him. “I’m glad you invest in things you believe in. It will make the fund an easier sell for you.”
“Driving a Jaguar is hardly practicing what I preach, but it came with the house. If I end up staying here very long I’ll find something more practical.”
“Are we talking about the house, or the car?” A new house would mean he’d stick around. A new car and things between them had a short shelf life. After his temporary intimate relationship comment she wondered just how temporary he planned on keeping things between them.
“We’re talking about how many events you’ll be able to make it to this week.”
He grinned and her mind began to swirl with all the possibility his lips held. Straight white teeth, full mouth. Oh my.
“I know it isn’t much notice, but invitations were waiting for me when I got here.”
“Ah yes, the holiday season starts early so everyone can throw the same party over and over.” Lauren dropped her gaze to her lap, where the folder of dates and places sat beneath her dampening palms. She wanted him to come upstairs with her, wanted to see if what sizzled between them would explode or fizzle out.
“It’s a busy time for your business, so people will understand if you can’t make it.”
But would he understand? Or use it as an excuse to find someone else to audition for the role of his lovely girlfriend?
“We should leave by four o’clock on Wednesday for the dinner in Portland.”
“I’m booked with a retirement dinner.” She studied his face as he gave a curt nod, revealing nothing about how he felt.
“Think that excuse will work for me?” He reached out a hand, pushing her hair first behind one ear, and then the other.
All the air rushed out of her lungs. With a simple touch the man could reduce her to a breathless, quivering mass of need. She saw the night unfolding in her mind, his hands all over her body, followed by his mouth, and then his—
“What about the rest of the week?” His velvet voice stoked the fire, as he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger.
“That’s good.” She struggled to hide the hitch in her breathing. She only knew how to be so bold, and she didn’t have half his obvious restraint.
“I’m glad.”
Lauren stared into his heavy-lidded eyes, meaning to tell him she hadn’t been talking about the schedule, but the words wouldn’t form. Her mouth had far better things it would rather be doing.
The tendril of her hair slipped off his finger as he moved his hand to the side of her face. She turned her cheek into his warm palm and closed her eyes as the pad of his thumb rubbed across her bottom lip.
“You have the most perfect lips. Soft, succulent pink. When you’re thinking, you bite your bottom lip and it drives me crazy.”
She trembled at the words, his heated breath spreading across her face. He must be moving closer, must be thinking of all the ways she wanted him to enjoy her mouth.
“When you lick your lips I want it to be me. Hell, even watching you eat turns me on.”
The sound of his voice, scent of him in the warm air of the car threatened to overload her senses so she didn’t dare open her eyes. Dazed by the chemistry flowing between them, Lauren leaned forward until her lips found his. Her hands drifted to his body of their own volition, one palming his wool-clad thigh, the other gripping his silk tie to keep him where she needed him.
In his kiss she tasted the wine from dinner, the deep chocolate from the dessert they shared, and a desire so electric it melted her inhibitions. Soft as a question at first, but her answer was obvious to them both. He captured her lips, nibbled, sucked with a passion she’d only read about.
In an instant she lost all sense of time or place, exchanging kisses that taunted and tempted, diving into a sea of longing that threatened to drown them both. But what a way to go.
Lauren’s hand slid up his muscular thigh. In their inopportune position with the center console between them there wasn’t much contact, but she could definitely learn more about him by pushing her fingers toward the Promised Land.
Fantasies spun in her mind. She’d dreamed of him on occasion, but never in her wildest imagination did she consider living the dreams, until now. She moved her hand up, finding she wasn’t the only one affected by the kiss.
Through the confines of his slacks she pressed her palm against him, curling her fingers around his erection. She ran her hand up, and up, and oh my.
“Are you smiling?” Cameron pulled back just far enough to whisper.
“We should go upstairs.” Pressing her thighs together to stem the ache, she released him and eased back into her seat.
“Because of…” Cameron looked down at his lap and then back to her.
“I wanted to go upstairs since I decided to let you drive me home instead of walking.” She met his gaze and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Cameron’s groan made her shiver. “Where do I park?”
…
Testosterone-fueled need battled with adrenaline-charged fright as Cameron let Lauren lead him through the front door of her apartment building and straight to the elevator. There were so many things she didn’t know about him, and as dangerous as it would be to admit his weaknesses to her, having her find out the ugly way would be worse. Once the elevator doors closed, Cameron framed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers.
“If we do this, you have to understand I will never want more than casual.” Her eyes widened. He knew he was being coarse, but bluntness now would save them theatrics later on. “I understand if you need to change your mind.”
Her head shook ever so slightly. “Did I tell you I’ve dreamed about us?”
“Last night?” So had he.
Her head shook again. “Since the first time I saw you. I wanted your bright blue eyes to see me. Even though I only watched you at a party, I knew something more lurked beneath your cool surface.” Her hands snuck beneath the lapels of his jacket. “There is this wall you live behind, like a cage for a tiger. I want your wild side to come out and play with mine. We’ll keep each other’s secrets.”
She didn’t know how close to the truth she came. Before he could tell her, the bell dinged and the doors parted. Taking his hand, she pulled him down the hallway.
Excitement sparkled in the golden flecks of her green eyes as she handed him the folder and dug in her purse for her keys. Finding the prize, she unlocked the door and pushed him inside.
“Sorry about the rush,” she said, flipping on the light. “Nosy neighbors.”
Cameron laughed, setting the folder on the small glass table by the door and turned to take in her apartment. Breath froze in his chest. Minimalist and modern, her apartment resembled his back in New York so much he felt more at home in the strange space than he did at the house where he got his mail. She’d been so attuned to him from the very beginning, he should have guessed her tastes would mirror his own. And with every moment he spent in her presence, his attraction to her grew.
City lights twinkled from the floor to ceiling bay window. He could even hear the buzz of bustling city life faint in the background. She’d used color well, blending deep red curtains with burnt orange chairs, natural wood floors and splashes of bright green in the pillows and throws on the brown chaise. From the granite countertops of her small kitchen, to the glass pendant lighting, everything was contemporary, yet casual. Perfectly Lauren.
“You like?” she asked, standing behind as she pulled his coat from his shoulders. He shrugged it off and turned around to face her.
“I like you.” He slid his fingers through her silken hair, tilting her head to the perfect angle.
“Good answer.” She gripped his tie, pulling him closer, but that was the last bit of control he allowed her.
He took possession of her lips. Her gasp told him his kiss was harder, more demanding than she expected, but since she followed it up with a moan as he deftly slipped her coat from her shoulders and slid his hands beneath her sweater to touch her soft, smooth skin, he knew she didn’t mind.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned the kiss with a passion that made his mind thrum with possibilities. She’d allow him anything, offered her body for his pleasure, only asking satisfaction in return. And since he intended to explore her body fully, indulging every urge he’d stifled, that would be his pleasure.
Moving his hand against the center of her back, he pressed her against him and deftly unclasped her bra so when he slid his hands between them he could palm her breasts and feel nothing but her velvety skin and hardened nipples. His mouth watered as he learned the shape, texture, weight.
He slid his mouth over her lips, to her jaw, nibbling at her neck, nipping at her earlobe. Everywhere he went she rewarded him with soft whimpers and breathy sighs. Her fingers pressed against his scalp as she held his head to her, her other hand struggling with the buttons on his shirt.
“Too many clothes.” Her throaty whisper made him grin.
He released her and pulled back, locking their gazes as he undid the knot in his tie. She pulled at the end, removing it in a whoosh as he set to work on the buttons of his shirt. With a naughty gleam in her eye she wrapped the ends of the tie in each hand and pulled it taut. The corner of her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth.
Cameron shook his head. “No way. I’m using my hands tonight.”
“I was thinking for me. I don’t know how much more foreplay I can take before I knock you to the ground and have my way with you.” She stepped closer, placing the tie in his hands. “This way I’d have to take it. Make me wait, Cameron.”
He grew impossibly harder as his lips found hers again, giving her the only answer she could possibly need.
An insistent knock at the door made them both jump. Who remembered other people existed in the world?
“I’m not getting that.” Lauren’s hands went to work on the remaining buttons of his shirt. The knock became louder. “They’ll give up, I swear.”
“How do you know?” The rhythmic pounding grew more insistent.
Her hands stilled and she hung her head, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. “I don’t know if they’ll stop, but I really, really want them to.”
Her wants went unheeded by whoever beat on the door. Reality began to seep through the hormones, making Cameron wonder if he hadn’t been saved by the bell, or the knock as it were.
Lauren stomped her foot against the floor and uttered a string of curses he never would have suspected she knew. Twisting her arms behind her back, she fixed her bra and pouted as she looked at him. “You’re not the hide in the bedroom type, are you?”
“Afraid not.” Cameron tried to smile as he buttoned his shirt and stuffed his tie into his pocket.
“Lauren, don’t make me get my key!” the door barely muffled the insistent female voice.
“Who’s that?” Cameron asked, tucking his shirt back into his pants and begging his erection to disappear. Knowing the odds of that miracle occurring weren’t good, he stepped behind a chair and hoped for the best.
“That is a dead woman.”
“Trying to break down your door?” The knocking continued, no signs of relenting.
“I’m going to kill her, simple as that.”
“So you know who is knocking.” Lauren nodded, her hands smoothing her disheveled hair. “How long will she do that?”
“I’m not sure. Until I open the door, I’m guessing.” Lauren stomped to the door and opened it a crack. “Go away.”
“You’re not getting married to someone we’ve never met.”
Lauren stumbled back as the door pushed open, two small women stepping into the room. The tiny blonde with the heart-shaped face looked embarrassed, but the brunette leading the charge seemed anything but.
“I am not getting married.” Lauren followed them into the room. The brunette turned to the blonde.
“You said she was.”
“No, I said she was dating someone and they should have red roses at the reception.” The blonde shrugged her shoulders and offered him a smile.
“Enough!” Lauren’s jaw clenched and she stood between Cameron and her friends. “Christabel, Nyla, you need to go back across the hall and mind your own damned business.”
“Not a chance.” The brunette sidestepped Lauren, quickly crossing the room so she stood in front of him. “Are you playing some kind of game with my friend?”
Cameron shook his head and drew in a slow breath. How best to escape this soap opera unscathed?
“Christa! That is enough.” Lauren charged across the room, leaving the blonde, Nyla, wide-eyed in the entryway.
“What kind of man proposes to someone he just met?” Christa narrowed her dark eyes, the challenge evident. But Cameron knew well how to deal with a challenge.
“We’re not engaged. And actually, we met over a year ago. I’ve been living in New York, which is why I haven’t met Lauren’s friends. I’m Cameron, and you are?”
“Christabel Kenney.” She turned her narrow gaze on Lauren. “Is he why you haven’t dated in a year?”
Cameron fought to keep his composure. She came on to him so strong, with such confidence, he thought for sure she played this game often. What did it mean that she didn’t, that he didn’t, and yet here they were?
Lauren reached for Christabel’s arm, puckering the blouse beneath her clenched hand. “Can we please discuss this later? You’ve met Cameron, and now you can go.”
Christabel shook her head, and shrugged off Lauren’s grasp. “I’m glad to hear you are just dating, but that means we should all get to know each other. Has your mother met him yet?”
“I left New York on the red-eye Friday night.” Cameron grasped the back of the chair, squeezing the microsuede upholstery in his hands. “There hasn’t been much time for a meet and greet.”
“Just enough time to start hooking up with my hopelessly romantic friend.”
“Since when did you become a gossip troll?” Lauren moved to stand beside him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Since when did you start keeping secrets? You’re the most honest person I know, or thought I knew, until Nyla came home with a story about dozens of red roses and planning your wedding.”
Cameron laid a hand on Lauren’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, the muscles tense beneath his fingers. She looked like a cat about to pounce. “Ladies, really, there is nothing to fight over. Lauren and I are seeing where this goes now that we are on the same side of the country. We haven’t announced anything formally.” And they wouldn’t because he’d never get married. The idea of a wedding made him itch.
“So we have time to plan an engagement party?” Nyla asked, her expression hopeful as she stepped closer, joining the conversation.
“We’re not rushing into anything.” Cameron offered up his best smile.
“Except a relationship.” Christa’s stare laid heavy on them both.
Cameron had to laugh; it was the only way he knew to break the tension. It worked, forcing even Christa to smile.
“So Cameron, tell me, what do you like best about my friend?” Christa opened her eyes wide enough so he could see they were blue, but gave him no more. As difficult as Christa was, Cameron appreciated Lauren inspired such loyalty in others.
“I like the way she talks.” True, and safer than mentioning her wild eyes or amazing body, or even his unexpected need for a girlfriend.
“Me too.” Christa smiled and dropped her aggressive stance.
“What do you mean, the way I talk?” Lauren’s puzzled expression made him smile wider. “Your New York accent comes out when you talk fast, you know. The Harvard polish wears right off when you’re feeling festive. I don’t have an accent.”
“Feeling festive?”
“Drinking.”
“Ah.” He looked to her friends for empathy, and was rewarded by their shy smiles. “I have an early meeting, so I think I’ll leave you ladies to talk this out.”
Lauren caught his hand. “You don’t have to go. They’re leaving.”
Nothing could keep him in that apartment, with a battle about to break out, and Lauren affecting him in ways he could not allow. “I’ll see you later.”
He squeezed her hands, then released them, grabbing his coat. He walked out the door without looking back, not stopping to breathe until safely inside the elevator when he trusted himself not to run back into her apartment and take her up on everything she had to offer.
…
“You two are officially the worst best friends in the history of time.” Lauren stood in front of her door and glared at the two women feigning innocent expressions.
“I like him. He needs a little help with his hair, but I can fix that.” Christabel grinned. Actually grinned.
“There is nothing wrong with his hair.” He might keep his hair a tad too short for her liking, but she didn’t want Christa to add him to her list of clients.
“Except he looks like a stockbroker.”
“He’s a venture capitalist. Not the spikes and highlights type, so hands off his head.”
“I’ll leave his head to you babe.” Christa leaned against the chair and crossed her bare ankles. She hadn’t even put on shoes to make this stampede. “But, I do want to know exactly what is going on. How is it you can be so serious about someone I’ve never met?”
“It just happened.”
“That you met him, or that you decided to be his blushing bride?”
No way could she admit to both, so she went for the lesser of the two evils. “We’re not getting married anywhere but in Nyla’s head.”
“So that’s why you don’t have a ring.” Nyla slid onto the crimson chaise. “I know a jewelry artist who could design something for you.”
“Cameron will handle that when the time is right.” Another line she’d have to draw. No fake weddings, and no fake engagement rings. Some things had to stay sacred.
“It seems so out of the blue. Kind of like a natural disaster.”
Part of Lauren knew Christa’s worry had merit, but the part that had her hopes pinned on fun tonight didn’t care to have her motivations analyzed. Especially when they were so transparent. She wanted a friend with benefits, a hookup. She wanted to be a naughty girl, the kind Christa could be without thinking, but Lauren needed safety and stability to manage.
She liked him, probably too much to keep visions of coupledom from dancing in her head. But she knew what she’d signed on for. She just didn’t know how to make him offer up his assets again.
“Listen Christa, I know he seems like a flash flood in my dating desert, but everything will work out. No worries.”
“I don’t want him pushing you into things.”
She’d been the one pushing. Not that he didn’t match her move for move, but she’d love for him to shove her in the right direction.
“He’s not. First thing tomorrow I’ll fill out all the forms, stand in line, and get our couple card so you won’t worry. Honestly, I don’t interrogate you when you bring someone home.”
“That’s because I bring a guy home to get my rocks off. You’re a good girl. You hold out until you get a promise of a rock.”
Not this time. This time she’d get what she needed without the mess. Maybe it wasn’t all she wanted it to be, but it was all she could figure her way into having.
Lauren drew a deep breath, the scent of Cameron’s cologne still in the air. “It’s late, let’s all get some rest and pretend you both didn’t just ruin my night like a recess monitor blowing the whistle in the middle of a pick-up game.”
“In the middle?” Nyla frowned. Finally some sympathy from someone.
“No.” Lauren smiled, remembering the glint in his blue eyes. “Just second base.”
…
Hot water sluiced across Lauren’s body, rivulets coursing across her bare breasts, over her taut belly, down her long legs. With one last rinse to her hair, darkened to a warm red by the water, she shut off the shower and stepped out onto the mat. Reaching for a fluffy white towel, she wrapped it around her body, tucking the ends across her breasts. With another towel she wrapped her hair, twisting it on top of her head.
A bottle of lotion sat on the counter and she pumped a creamy pink mound into her open palm. She propped one leg on the countertop and began working the lotion into her foot, ankle, and calf.
Placing her foot back on the ground she reached for the lotion again. With a gasp she froze, fixated on the image in the foggy mirror. She turned slowly to face him, a smile spreading across her face.
He lifted her onto the countertop, reaching for the lotion himself. Warming the cool mixture in his hands, the warm smell of pear wafting to his nose.
He knelt before her, giving the same attention to her foot, ankle, calf that she had. Then he spread her knees slightly, catching the scent of her arousal in the heavy air. Pumping more lotion into his hand he applied it first to one knee, and then the other. His fingertips on the back of her knees made her gasp, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. He continued learning her until her legs relaxed more, opening her to him.
Scooting her foreword on the counter he applied lotion to the tops of her thighs, the outsides, lingering on her hips, the backs, and then the insides inching closer and closer to the heat of her.
Pumping more lotion into his hand he lifted one of her hands from the counter and began making long strokes from her wrists to her shoulder. She shook her head, but said nothing when he arched and eyebrow. She’d asked him to make her wait, and he intended to.
His palms glided across her smooth skin, working the lotion into her other arm until it was soft as silk. With more lotion he went to work on her shoulders, massaging out the tension until her head drooped against her chest.
With one finger, he lifted her chin. Fire flashed in her green gaze as he pulled back the sides of the towel, letting it fall to the counter.
She straightened her posture, presenting herself to him. It was his turn to shake his head as he stepped between her legs, reaching around to work lotion into the muscles of her back. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her peaked nipples rubbed against his. In the mirror his darker hands against her creamy skin made his mind thrum with possibility, need. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait, let alone make her wait.
He rubbed the smooth planes of her muscles to calm himself, not nearing the curve of her bottom until he regained control. She wiggled beneath his hands, writhing and pressing, and wrapping her ankles around his back, locking him into place.
He looked into her eyes, ravenous with lust. The world had melted so only Lauren, wet and willing, existed. Predatory feelings consumed his every thought so that nothing mattered, but having her, now.
Stroking the silken skin of her arms, he lifted them up and draped them across his shoulders so he could have free access to her pert breasts. He took a deep breath to steady himself, his lungs filling with the steam from her shower, the pear from the lotion, and her arousal. He ran a hand across her toned stomach, running his palms up until he cupped the weight of both breasts. In front of his eyes her nipples tightened even more, ripening into tight raspberries.
He drew circles with his thumbs, making the circles tighter with each pass until her fingers dug into his shoulders. The unhurried, purposeful exploration pushed him over the edge. He dipped his head, laving one ripened peak with his tongue. She arched against him and he pulled the beaded tip into his mouth.
Her moans echoed through the small room, making his cock grow impossibly hard. But he’d waited so long, he didn’t want to rush over anything. Learning, teasing, licking, and sucking until he couldn’t wait any longer.
Releasing her breasts he trailed one hand down her stomach and the other over her shoulder to her neck, threading his fingers in her still damp hair and plundering her mouth with a kiss. His free hand dipped down, down into nothing.
“Cloudy with increasing rain as the day goes on; heaviest from Seattle north through mid-evening, then widespread rain throughout the Puget Sound area later tonight. Lows tonight in the upper thirties to low forties.”
Cameron sat up straight in bed, blinking in the darkness. His fist came down hard on the alarm clock stating four fifteen in bright red numbers. He pulled cool dry air into his lungs, searching for the steam and pears and Lauren.
Of course none of it existed. And it would have to end where his knowledge of her body ended. He shook his head hard, trying to knock some sense into his brain.
Throwing back the comforter, he stumbled to the bathroom and flicked on the bright florescent lights. Setting the dial for cold, he looked down at his cock, straining hopefully against his belly. He’d been hoping only his dick was fascinated with Lauren, physical attraction could be ignored. Resisting her would be easy, if he didn’t have to see her, smell her, wrap his arm around her at every opportunity. But dreaming about her, wishing to live the dream, meant an emotional, mental connection he could not risk. Ever.
But did he still have a choice?