More outfits accumulated on her arm as she indulged her inner vixen. She’d spent every spare moment the past week designing the perfect seduction scene. Might as well reward them both for her labors. And if he held out on her again? Well, let him see a collection of all he missed out on hanging in his closet.
She experimented with fabrics, gathering lace, silk, satin, and sheer tulle. A different color for each of the half dozen pieces she settled on. Having never tried the lingerie route before she didn’t know what would turn him on. Or her.
Next she selected bras more suited to a woman having an affair. Ladies who had affairs matched their bras and panties, so she bought everything in sets. Feeling every bit the seductress she paid for her purchases, swinging the bags from her fingers as she tried not to skip to the car.
Halfway across the parking lot her cell phone began to buzz. Balancing the bags in one hand she dug it out of her handbag. The number on the display had a New York area code. Hope swelled in her chest. She hadn’t heard a word from him all week.
“Cameron?”
“No, Lauren,” a woman’s voice purred. “But I need to talk to you about Cameron.”
Chapter Twelve
The house looked ominous in the evening twilight. He hoped like hell Lauren had gotten his message about a later flight and having a town car to take him home. He tipped the driver and watched him drive away before sliding his key in the front door lock. The soft sounds of Vivaldi greeted him, alerting him he wasn’t alone. Setting his bags by the door he crept slowly through the house, soaking up the changes.
The same white furniture sat in the living room, but the walls were now a rich chocolate brown. A warm beige enveloped the dining room, crimson candles flickering on the table. The leafy plants in the silvery pots were back, transforming the rooms from house to home.
He slid off his shoes and socks, digging his toes into the plush chenille rugs lining the hallway. Knowing Lauren was here, had done all this while thinking of him, caused a sudden surge of lust to barrel through him.
He walked down the hall, pushing open the kitchen door. His jaw dropped at the sight before him. Lauren, wearing the sexiest dress he’d ever seen. Not that it was a dress really. At least not one he could handle her wearing with other people around. The sides of the black silk gown laced up like a corset, playing peek-a-boo with her curves. The front of the gown dipped dangerously low. With the low front and non-existent sides, he became painfully aware she wore nothing beneath it.
The unashamed honesty of her desire bewildered him. The chemistry electric in the room whenever they were together refused to be denied. Still, she knew he couldn’t give her what she needed. She knew, and yet she courageously stepped into the flames for a chance to play with fire.
He cleared his throat and she turned from her work at the counter. The radiance in her sparkling eyes and bright smile eroded his resolve. Since the night they met he’d wanted her. And now, exhausted from a week of work and little sleep he wanted nothing more than to let go of everything and take the risk. She’d gotten to him on every level but one. And he needed to remedy that immediately.
He closed the distance between them and captured her lips before she could say a word. Through his shirt he felt the heat of her hands clutching his arms while his mouth plundered hers. Her lips parted willingly, her sweet breath filling his mouth with the taste of ripe peaches.
Kissing Lauren was intoxicating. Had been since that first sizzling, powerful, overwhelming moment their lips locked. A moment he’d been running toward ever since. He tugged at her lips, drawing a response from her so strong her fingernails dug into his arms.
Pulling his bottom lip between her teeth she nipped hard enough for him to let her pull back.
“I knew it,” she whispered, releasing him and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she turned back to the counter.
“Knew what?” For the first time he glanced at the counter strewn with platters of fruits and vegetables.
“You missed me.”
“Guilty.”
“Are you guilty, Cameron?” She looked up at him, her eyes asking a question he couldn’t read. The expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Do you like your surprise?”
“The house looks amazing. So much warmer and more comfortable.” He reached out, tracing a finger down the silken skin of her bare arm. His fingers toyed with the slippery strings holding her outfit together. One pull and it would all fall away.
“No.” Lauren stepped away from him and circled the island in the center of the kitchen. She waved her hand over the top, gesturing to the platters. “First, you have to earn it. Anything you want, we’ll do. As long as you eat it first.”
The memory of her sweet taste flooded his mind and he took a step to follow her.
“Not me, the food.”
Food, right. Taking a breath so deep his lungs hurt, he forced himself to focus on the platters on the countertop. His eyes widened.
“Did I ever tell you I was expelled from culinary school?”
He shook his head. Speaking now was impossible. She’d somehow worked fruits and vegetables into suggestively erotic presentations.
“We had to design a tablescape for a buffet. My theme proved too much for the instructors. But I don’t think the effect is wasted on you.”
Not in the slightest. Cameron’s eyes drank in the sexual smorgasbord. A banana carved to look like a curved penis. Two lemon breasts tipped by cherry nipples with a plum capped zucchini pressing between them. A yellow bell pepper sitting atop two celery stalks splayed with a pair of brussel sprouts below and a chili partially inserted in the pepper. Two lemon halves sat at attention atop an eggplant with two more eggplants sitting at a vee at the bottom a strawberry between them. And his favorite, another eggplant creation with a peach being impaled by a yellow zucchini.
“Damn, that’s hot.”
“Makes you like vegetables, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll never look at eggplant the same way again, that’s for sure.”
“In art school I sold still photos to a men’s magazine. So you can brag your girlfriend has been in Playboy.”
“Culinary school and art school?” he asked absentmindedly, still trying to decide what to try first. He planned on sampling every dish.
“Plus I’m ten credits shy of my bachelors degree.”
He looked up in time to see the hesitancy in her gaze. “I’m surprised. I thought you finished whatever you started.”
“Life is short. If it isn’t worthwhile, I get out. No point in wasting time finishing if you’ve already learned what you meant to.”
“You don’t believe in commitment?” He arched a brow, wondering if he’d read her wrong.
“I don’t believe in staying in a destructive situation just because you committed to it. My father and brother died, and I ended an engagement right before I finished college and I needed some space to think. When I came back I tried culinary school, but that didn’t work out, and then art school until I came up with the plan for catering.”
“You were engaged to the guy who asked you to be with other men?” Somehow, that made the blow all the more devastating. Nearly as bad as what happened to him.
Her lip quivered as she nodded.
“What did you do?”
“Cam, I’d rather if you pick a dish.” Her chest hitched with her ragged breath.
“I’d rather know what happened.”
“His mother sued me.” Her smile reappeared and he knew she’d found an angle to play. A way to evade him. Unless she showed him hers, he’d never be able to confess his. “She wanted damages for canceling the wedding. So I ran away to Europe for the summer and let him explain everything to his mother.”
So she didn’t want to strip away the layers and be intimate, only physical. If she didn’t trust him with her past, she didn’t think they had a future. The realization should have calmed him, but he found it irksome.
Not that he’d b
een more forthcoming.
“Cameron?” While he’d been lost in thought she’d moved to stand in front of him. “Do you see anything you want to try?”
He blinked, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of being rueful. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, wondering where to start
“Wait a minute.” Cameron cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. A short wet kiss that confirmed his suspicions. “You’ve been eating peaches. And the only peach.” He moved his hand to his favorite option, one that would have her legs in the air so he could watch the show. “Is right here. And I do love peaches.”
“That’s fine. But there is zucchini and eggplant on that plate too.”
“You wicked girl.” He scanned the plethora of erotically styled food again. “Everything for you is a fruit, and everything for me is a vegetable.”
“Not completely. There is the banana.”
Cameron picked up the banana, intent on calling her bluff. But part of him couldn’t bring himself to put it in his mouth. “I’m never going to be able to eat a banana again.”
“Then you’ll have no use for an ice cream maker.”
What a tart. “So you’ll be eating peaches regularly?”
“Cameron!”
“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll eat your peach if you eat my banana.” He handed her the fruit, biting his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Fine. You have me there.” She spun on her heel and marched to the other side of the kitchen, sliding on oven mitts and pulling an oblong pan from the oven. He watched as she scooped the dish onto a plate and slid open a drawer for a fork, shutting it with her hip.
“What is this?” He stared down at the plate of what resembled macaroni and cheese studded with red, green, yellow, and purple.
“A compromise. All the veggies are chopped up and in your macaroni and cheese, from a box.”
He groaned. “I want you. But I had a bagel for breakfast and nothing since.”
Her laughed echoed through the room as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Then you should eat whatever you want.”
“And I have a confession to make.”
“You do?” She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I’ll eat pretty much anything. I simply get caught up with working and forget to eat.” He plucked the strawberry from between the splay eggplant legs for effect, catching her smile.
“You’re not picky?”
“No. I just don’t want people I’m working with concentrating on crumbs on my shirt or stains on my tie instead of what I have to say.”
“Well then, I wouldn’t want to be distracted from what you have to say tonight.”
Creamy macaroni warmed his mouth, but he was too distracted to taste much of anything as Lauren began to undress him with exaggerated slowness. Her fingers rubbed at his wrist as she undid the buttons on his cuffs, tickled his chest as she popped open the ones on his shirt. She pulled his shirt from his slacks and reached for his belt.
His hand covered hers. “Did you bring condoms?”
“I’ve done all this, and you didn’t even buy condoms?”
He’d told her repeatedly he had no time for a relationship. He only thought about it when his world slowed, usually right before drifting off at night. Not exactly peak shopping hours.
“My pants should stay on then. But your dress should come off.” Setting down his fork, he reached for the peach and bit into it.
Lauren wrapped her arms around him, licking his lips where a droplet of peach nectar had dribbled. His free hand followed the silken cord across her side, pressing into the warm, smooth flesh and over her rounded backside.
“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?”
Her curls swished as she shook her head. “I stole condoms from Christa. They’re up in your room. But, I got my shot last Tuesday so we’re good to go.”
He set the peach down on the counter, surveying the plates. Plucking the cherry half from one platter he popped it into his mouth and turned back to her. “Lemons.”
“Lemons?” Her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked.
Through the thin silk of her gown he pinched her beaded nipple until she gasped. He pushed the strap from her shoulder, pinning her arm to her side and baring her ripe breast. Taking a lemon half from the platter he squeezed the citrus against her chest, licking up every drop of tart juice before it reached her dress.
The plum from the tip of the zucchini came next. He rubbed the fruit down her neck, kissing at the stickiness until he could taste her flesh. His hands worked to undo the sides of her dress, until it fell with a whoosh at their feet.
“You make me so hungry, Lauren.” With the last vestiges of his self-control he framed her face in his hands and stared into her eyes, now heavy lidded with lust. “Are you sure you can do this?”
Her answer was a confident, knowing gaze that tickled at his soul. A look that proved their being together was a physical inevitability. A when, not an if. But if she could see more of his soul than he intended, he could see this wasn’t just sex for her. The vibrancy of her fantasy seeped around them, made him feel she didn’t simply want to act out her desires, but she wanted to act them out with him.
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her across the room to the kitchen table. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling as he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the table. He silenced the girlish sound with his mouth, reminding her she was all woman.
Hands flitted about, peeling off the rest of his clothes at record speed so they could be bare together, except for her high-heeled sandals. They looked hot, and he doubted he could figure out how to get them off.
She massaged his chest, her fingernails tracing the indentation of muscle on his shoulders, chest, and stomach. Her touch was soft and tentative, but he needed more. Much more.
Pulling her against him he lined up their bodies, pressing his need against her so she’d know how out of control she made him. His hands on her were hard and demanding. He’d been dreaming of her warm and willing beneath him all week. Now that he had the chance he was like a kid in a candy store, filling himself with everything at once.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him the control he needed. With his hand at the small of her back he moved her where he wanted her, kissing every inch of her body within reach. He nibbled across her jaw, nipped at her earlobe, placed butterfly kisses down her long neck, a long slow lick at the base of her throat. When he blew across her damp skin she shuddered, spreading her legs wider to rock her sex against his.
His hands roved her breasts, learning what to do to make her writhe and sigh. Her ripe nipples were too much of an invitation to ignore, so his mouth engulfed them, licking and sucking until she began to moan and rock her slick heat against him faster.
A few more seconds of that and it would be over for both of them. He stepped back just enough to relieve the torturous pressure and looked into her beautiful green eyes, his gaze dripping from her glistening eyes, lips swollen from his kisses, breasts moist and puckered from his attention, to the sparse blonde hair hiding the secrets between her legs.
He teased his fingers at her moist center, spreading her wetness over her swollen clit. Circling the bud of nerves with one finger, he traced her nether lips from the top to just below her entrance. He knelt down and parted her lips, his breath tickling her flesh. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, waiting for her to relax before adding another.
Working an unhurried rhythm with his fingers he leaned closer, running his tongue along her folds. She gasped, her hands clenching the edge of the table. To steady her he propped her legs over his shoulders and settled in.
“I’m supposed to seduce you.” She bucked against him, taking her pleasure through her protests.
“I could stop.” He peeked up at her, desire flashing in her bright eyes.
“No!” One hand pushed his head back to his task, the other reaching for the fa
r side of the table. Her nails scratched at his scalp as he began flicking figure eights across her clit. She breathed words he didn’t take the time to decipher. Something about not liking his hair so short.
He lifted her butt off the table and flattened his tongue against her sex, licking up and down to the tempo his fingers set. Soft breathy moans became the muted screams of climax. She clenched around his fingers as the surge of satisfaction washed over her body.
He could see the muscles of her stomach quiver with the remnants of her orgasm. Proof of pleasure that couldn’t be faked. He loved the volcanic passion he could coax from her.
Before she recovered completely he stood, taking his place between her legs. He grasped her hips to center her and pushed her knees to her shoulders. Sliding the pad of his thumb over the bud of clit, he smiled as she opened her eyes. The tip of his rock hard cock replaced his thumb and he explored every inch of her, covering himself in her wetness.
“You want me to beg, don’t you?” She squirmed in her prone position, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she caught sight of their joining. “Damn. You’re even bigger than last time.”
Modesty had no place here. “You turned me on even more with that orgasm.” He placed himself at her entrance.
“My coming makes you—” She gasped as he eased the head inside.
“Relax,” he whispered, replacing his thumb on her clit. He pushed inside her with gentle insistence, waiting for her slick sheath to accept him. With a final thrust he buried himself inside her, a move that brought his name to her lips. She arched into him, and he caught her knees on his forearms.
Locking her into place, a feeling pure and raw came over him. Absolute nirvana. He pulled back and then filled her with long slow strokes, enjoying every delicious inch of pleasure.
“I can barely move,” she said breathlessly.
“This is peaches.” At least it was what flashed in his mind when he saw the suggestive platter.
She moaned in response, the faint blush of desire blooming across her glistening chest. He picked up speed, watching their joining with building excitement. Her head rolled back and she cried out in rapturous surrender.
The Billionaire's Holiday Engagement (Invested in Love) Page 15