“Records and a record player?” she said, quirking a brow at him.
He didn’t own one of those sleek, modern ones that integrated with Bluetooth technology. His was vintage, purchased for a pittance at a garage sale.
“Don’t knock it ’til you try it.”
“I’m not knocking your old records, but surely you’ve heard of music streaming services. They’re all the rage now,” she quipped.
“Oh, so you got jokes.”
“I’m just saying.”
She shrugged with one shoulder and sent him a cute little smile before diving back into the collection. The way she angled her body over the crates made him tilt his head and imagine what he could do to her once he got her naked.
“You’re a blues man. I see the old greats—B.B. King, Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson. Wow.” She continued flipping. “And names I don’t recognize. Do you only listen to blues?”
“Mostly blues. Some old rock, disco, etcetera. Everything’s all mixed in,” Cameron replied, his gaze trailing down the curve in her spine, over her bottom, and lower to her shapely calves.
“No cell phone. An old record player and records. You’re an old soul, Cameron Bennett.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and laughed. “You say I’m an old soul. My family says I’m stubborn.”
“Well, they know you better than I do. Are you stubborn?”
“Pretty much. I like what I like, and I’m not easily distracted by every new and shiny thing.”
“That’s a good trait to have,” she said quietly. “Mind if I put on one of the records?”
“Not at all.”
She pulled one of the disks from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. The sound of an electric guitar crackled through the old speakers as “Rock Me Baby,” by B.B. King started.
“That’s good music right there,” Cameron said.
He left her and went into the kitchen, where steel dominated the decor. Light glinted off the steel appliances and steel built-in shelves that took the place of cabinets and exposed his collection of dishes.
He set the last of the tiramisu on a plate, added a fork, and rejoined Simone in the living room. Her eyes lit up when she saw the dessert. “Where’s yours?” she asked.
Chuckling, Cameron cut a slice with the fork. “There isn’t much left, so we’ll have to share.”
He extended the fork and she pulled the scrumptious dessert between her full lips. His stomach tightened.
“Mmm.”
Cameron cut another slice and ate it. Over and over, he alternated by cutting a slice, extending it to her, and then cutting off a piece for himself to eat. All the while, King’s gravelly voice serenaded them with “Rock Me Baby.”
When they finished the cake, Simone brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and licked her lips.
He was two seconds away from ripping her clothes off. Watching her take slice after slice of cake between her red, parted lips had to be one of the most sensuous things he’d ever seen.
She kept looking at him, as if waiting for something, and that’s when he realized she was waiting for him to make a move.
As the album segued into the sultrier, edgier “Blue Shadows,” Cameron took Simone’s hand and drew her closer, barely managing to temper the urgency beating through his blood.
“So how was it?” he asked.
“Delicious,” she said softly, sounding a little breathless. “You were right, it was criminally good.” She licked her lips again, and this time he knew she’d done it on purpose. “But I have a feeling that tiramisu wasn’t the only reason you invited me here tonight.”
One corner of Cameron’s mouth ticked upward. “I have a feeling you knew that when you accepted my invitation.”
His finger touched the pulse hammering at the base of her throat, and she inhaled. Her breasts lifted and stayed as she held her breath. Cameron lowered his head to the same spot and she arched her throat. When his tongue swept across the hollow between her collarbones, she released the breath as a trembling exhalation.
While B.B. King bewailed how it felt to be alone, Cameron encircled Simone’s waist with one arm and pulled her flush against his body. Cupping her face with the other hand, he went in for the kiss.
Their mouths meshed together. Slow and easy. Her lips softened beneath his, and he pried them apart to trace the edges with his tongue. She tasted sweet like the dessert they’d consumed—mascarpone cheese, amaretto, and cocoa—and his blood surged as he delved deeper into the kiss.
Simone moaned, leaning into him, and his fingers climbed into her thick hair. Angling his head, he kissed her harder, with fiercer pressure and ardent strokes of his tongue.
Drawn again to the perfumed hollow at the base of her throat, he showered kisses down the side of her neck. Her little mewl of pleasure echoed in his loins, and he pushed her against the wall, kissing her harder and more thoroughly, stroking into every corner of her mouth.
His awakening body hardened, and he lifted her high. In response, her arms immediately encircled his neck and held him tight.
Cameron turned off the phonograph and plunged the room in quiet. Moving through the house, he headed to the stairs, Simone’s mouth traveling over his face and neck, her breathing irregular, her heart thudding against his chest.
Then with slow, careful steps, he started climbing up the stairs.
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About the Author
Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sweet, sensual, passionate romance novels. Originally from the U.S. Virgin Islands, she now lives in Atlanta, Georgia. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale.
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Love Me (Irresistible Husband) Page 13