Читать книгу The Dare Collection July 2019 - Nicola Marsh, Katee Robert, Katee Robert - Страница 17

THE FLIGHT TO London was both heaven and hell. Cameron had never had a problem feeling cramped or caged in when he flew first class. The seats there hadn’t fallen victim to the desire to cram more paying passengers into the same amount of space that the rest of the plane had. He usually didn’t have to worry about his broad shoulders crowding out the person next to him and could relax and work through however long the flight was.

That was before he sat next to Trish.

Even with the space between them, he couldn’t shake his awareness of her. Every shift where she crossed and recrossed her legs. Every time her mass of curly hair brushed his shoulder. Every breath. She fell asleep halfway through the flight and ended up slumped against him, her little body curled in the seat and her head halfway in his lap.

He loved every agonizing second of it.

Though he managed to keep from touching her more than strictly necessary, it was all too easy to imagine they were traveling together, jetting off to some exotic island or snowy peak to spend a week tangled up in each other and blind to the rest of the world.

Instead, he went over the preliminary contract for the tenth time since Aaron had sent it over. It didn’t matter that the terms were standard with a few small exceptions. They’d handled overseas clients before, but Concord Inc. was unique in the way that they had an independent server for all their internal workings. Something like that wouldn’t normally need Tandem Security’s expertise—impossible to hack what someone couldn’t get to in the first place—but Concord Inc. did need access to public servers for outside communications.

And that could be breached.

Cameron kept himself busy mulling over the possible options as the plane finally landed. Trish managed to sleep through the entire thing, so he gently squeezed her shoulder. “We’re here.”

She opened those big blue eyes and blinked at him a few times as if she couldn’t quite place where they were or who he was. Awareness rushed over her expression between one breath and the next and she licked her pretty pink lips.

He went rock-hard, and then silently cursed himself for reacting at all. He couldn’t seem to stay in line when it came to this woman, but that wasn’t her fault. No, the blame lay squarely on his shoulders, and after his dickhead comment that day at her apartment, he’d been careful navigating the minefield that every conversation between them had become.

His fault.

Trish sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take over your space.”

Since what he wanted most in that moment was for her to take over his space—and his cock—fully, he gritted out, “No problem.”

He managed to get control of himself by the time they deplaned, got through the custom’s process and grabbed their luggage. It was still relatively early in local time, but they wouldn’t meet with Nikki Lancaster until the next day. “Food?”

“Please.” She looked a little...wilted...after all the traveling. Trish’s hair was fluffier than he’d ever seen it, and she huddled within her large coat, her eyes seeming larger than normal. It was obvious that, despite her nap, what she needed was food and rest and some time to adjust to their new location.

Cameron got them to their hotel—a little boutique place strategically placed a few short blocks from Concord Inc. They’d ended up with a two-bedroom suite, which was what he and Aaron usually booked when their work required travel, but it took on a new significance with Trish.

They were staying behind the same locked door in this place.

For fuck’s sake, get ahold of yourself. This is business. This has only ever been business.

Except nothing when it came to Trish felt like business.

He held the door open for her, angling his body away to avoid her accidentally brushing against him. “Take whatever room you want.”

“Generous.” Trish shot him an arch look over her shoulder, as if she knew exactly why he was being so generous. She didn’t say anything else, though. She just dropped her bag in the middle of the small living space and went investigating.

Cameron forced himself not to follow her, but instead walked to the tiny dining room table and started setting up his computer. “If you want a shower, I can run down and grab us some food.”

She poked her head out the first bedroom door. “My kingdom for some genuine fish and chips.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He left before he could think too hard about what Trish in the shower would be like. Her showering had almost been their downfall before, and Cameron knew himself well enough to know his self-control wouldn’t last through a third time of backing away from her. Better to avoid the temptation altogether by removing himself from the building.

He had no idea how they were supposed to get through the next few days without stepping all over each other. Challenging enough to be closeted in an office with her when they were able to retreat to their respective homes after hours. But being together 24-7 in the same workplace, the same hotel suite?

The odds of keeping his hands off her were not in his favor.

Cameron took his time walking down to the lobby and waylaid the bellhop to get recommendations for places with good fish and chips. The nearest one the guy recommended was more than a few blocks, but after being cramped in the plane for so long, he welcomed the chance to stretch his legs.

And it would ensure Trish had plenty of time to shower and get dressed again before he returned.

Satisfied he’d made the right call, he lengthened his stride and put some distance between himself and the siren call Trish Livingston represented.

* * *

Trish took her time in the shower, washing away the grit of traveling. She’d chosen the room with the smallest bed—Cameron needed more space than she did, after all—and it had the added bonus of the better bathroom. There was a claw-foot tub big enough to hold a party in and the shower wasn’t exactly orgy-sized, but it was generous for the square footage.

She shut off the water and wrapped a towel around herself. The fluffy fabric slid luxuriously against her skin, drawing out a shiver. Sitting next to Cameron on the plane had her all pent-up and needy. Even after the shower, she was sure she could smell the evergreen soap he used. Her body responded accordingly, skin going tight, nipples pebbling, the spot between her thighs increasingly achy.

God, she wanted him.

Trish padded to the door to her room and peeked out. The suite was silent and empty. She had no idea how long Cameron had been gone—or when he’d be back. A thrill went through her at the thought. I shouldn’t risk it. But on the heels of that, her innate stubbornness kicked in. That only makes it hotter.

She shut her door and tossed the towel over the low-backed chair situated by the window. Naked, she slipped between the sheets and stretched out. It wouldn’t take long. She’d been halfway there since she woke up surrounded by him. It didn’t matter that they’d been in separate seats and he’d barely touched her. Trish was so damn primed, all it would take was his breathing on her clit and she’d come screaming.

Her toes curled as she cupped her breasts, pretending it was his hands there. Not rough. Certainly not gentle. A firm touch. A freaking perfect touch.

It’s not perfect because it’s not the real thing.

She didn’t care. She’d come too far to go back now.

Trish rolled one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and ran her other hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. A moan slipped free as she pushed a single finger into herself. She arched her back, letting the sheets slide down to reveal her breasts. It didn’t matter that no one could see her. She felt watched, and that was enough to send her skirting along the edge of a truly great orgasm.

Imagining it was Cameron’s eyes on her?

She circled her clit once, twice, a third time, and as she came, she moaned his name aloud. “Oh my God, Cameron.” Her orgasm rolled over her, bowing her back and she could have sworn she heard him murmuring her name. Pleasure-induced hallucination, for sure.

Except when Trish opened her eyes, she wasn’t alone in her room.

Cameron stood in the doorway, his hand still raised as it must have been when he knocked. The door hadn’t even swung open all the way, but there was no way he’d missed the tail end of that self-love session. Especially not the part where she’d moaned his name as she came.

Shit.

She sat up, thought about clutching the sheet to her chest and gave it up as a lost cause. He’d already seen the goods—more than once at this point. The only person who’d seen her naked so many times without there actually being sex involved was her freaking doctor. And Trish didn’t want to sleep with her doctor.

Cameron didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Didn’t seem to so much as breathe.

There was no brazening her way out of this situation. She didn’t know who’d cursed her that she seemed to be destined to perpetually humiliate herself in front of Cameron, but it was time to face the music.

She met his gaze directly. “I don’t suppose you missed any of that?”

“You said my name when you came.” His voice was deeper than normal, and each word rumbled in the pit of her stomach. Lower. “I’ve tried to stay away from you, Trish.”

“I know.”

“You’re making it fucking impossible.”

Was this... Could this actually be happening?

She couldn’t go to him. She’d already thrown herself at him too many times for her pride to survive yet another rejection. Trish licked her lips, half-convinced she could taste him there despite weeks passing since their last kiss. “Maybe it’s time to try something new, then.” Try me. Touch me. Fuck me.

He stepped into her room. He moved slowly, seeming to weigh her every breath as if testing her resolve. Little did he know it took everything she had to keep perfectly still and wait for him to approach the bed instead of flinging herself at him.

“Cameron,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He matched her tone.

Her next words would either push them over the edge or yank them back to safety. She knew what the smart choice would be, but Trish had been making the smart choice for her entire life and look where it got her—nowhere near the path she’d always thought she’d walk. It was time to try something new. She drew in a shallow breath. “Touch me.”

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of the blankets covering the bed. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I know.” No point in arguing. It was the truth. “Do it anyway.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You’re sure.”

Not a question, but she wanted no chance of miscommunication. If they were sprinting past the point of no return, they would do it together with eyes wide-open. “I’m sure.”

He drew the blankets from the bed in an agonizingly slow movement. The sensation of sheets sliding down her body had her biting her bottom lip, but the forbidding look in his dark eyes kept her still and silent, unwilling to do anything to break the spell.

“Show me.”

Trish stopped breathing. “What?”

“You were imagining me. Us. Tell me what you pictured.” He didn’t move from his spot at the end of the bed, just out of reach. “Show me how you touched yourself.”

She should be embarrassed. Humiliated. But being on display for him set her aflame. She was so close to having what she wanted...

This is exactly what I wanted.

Cameron’s eyes on me.

She shifted until she was on her back and resumed the position she’d been in when this all started. With him watching, she cupped her breasts. “You touched me here. Made my toes curl.”

“Mmm.” His appreciative growl vibrated through her entire body.

She started to slide one hand down her stomach, but he made a negative sound. “Slow, Trish. I’ve been thinking about tracing your freckles with my tongue since I saw them. I sure as fuck wouldn’t rush this.”

The heat beneath her skin flared hotter. She licked her lips. “I can’t do that myself.”

“I know.”

Slowly, oh so slowly that she didn’t dare breathe, she spread her thighs, revealing everything to him. “Touch me, Cameron. Please.”

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.”