One Perfect Night

by Rachael Johns

  “Is it hot in here?” she puffed.

  “Scorching,” he replied. “But I’m not sure what I have in mind will do a very good job of dousing the fire.”

  “Hmm,” she pondered, “me neither, but I’m prepared to give it a shot.” She took a step, closing the gap between them. Then, recalling her strength from earlier, she pushed firmly against his chest.

  He hadn’t anticipated this and flopped back against the bed as she desired. The sight of him sprawled naked on the crimson covers stole her breath, but she quickly recovered, spurred on by her own wanton need. Straddling his thighs, she wrapped her hand around his already aroused length and smiled into his glassy eyes.

  “I like your thinking,” he crooned.

  “And do you like this?” She moved her fingers up and down, cupping his balls with the other hand.

  “So far so good.” He was so cool, so unruffled.

  That was about to change.

  She dipped her head and licked a gentle line from his tip. “And that?”

  “Good too.”

  “Oh really?” Turned on almost beyond control, she took him farther into her mouth. Sucking, nibbling, licking until slowly his mere moans turned into the joyous groans.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” he hissed, his hands reaching to fondle her breasts.

  She replied with more of the same, not about to tell him this was the first time she’d felt truly comfortable being intimate in this way. She relished his unique flavor and the power her mouth could bring. She’d never felt so close to another human being as she did to Cameron now. He began to quiver and then shudder beneath her tongue.

  “Stop, please.” His hands were on her head, tugging her upward. “I want to taste you. All of you.”

  She pulled back. Even his words had the power to flood her senses. But then, he rolled her, pushed her down into the pillows and kissed his way down her body. Her nipples pebbled into hard, throbbing stones, her tummy fluttered as he licked circles around her belly button and then…

  “Oh. Cameron. Wow.”

  His mouth was there. Between her legs. Deeper. Her fingers sought his hair as, helpless, she lifted her bottom slightly off the mattress. And screamed.

  When she didn’t think she could take the pleasure any longer, when she thought she might die of ecstasy, he sheathed himself and plunged inside.

  They didn’t spend much time on deck for the rest of the day. His bed became a table for their picnic and alternated between a place of conversation and more pleasure. Early evening, when he docked the boat again at Sydney Harbor, Peppa didn’t want this blissful day ever to end. Thankfully, Cameron seemed to feel the same. He suggested a walk and ice creams on the pier.

  Ice creams in hand, they turned away from the server, and Peppa’s heart collided with her lungs as they came face-to-face with her past. She knew this day had been too good to be true.

  “Peppa?” Tim’s arm was wrapped around a skinny redhead, who wasn’t yet showing but had that glow associated with pregnant women.

  Peppa felt like snapping at him. Of course, it’s me. Three years of her life devoted to this man and he acted as if he almost didn’t recognize her. Miraculously, she clutched the cone of her ice cream more tightly and smiled politely. “Tim, what a pleasant surprise. This must be your lovely wife?”

  “Ah…yes,” he sputtered, his cheeks flaming like a beetroot. “Sorry. Peppa this is Sascha. Sascha, this is Peppa. We work together.”

  Peppa almost choked. Work together? Had he forgotten what they’d been through? They’d never once “worked” together in the literal sense. In the same building maybe but work colleagues was definitely not how she’d describe them.

  Tim’s eyes then flashed to Cameron and she saw the instant he recognized their boss. She saw the questions in his eyes and jumped on them.

  Placing her hand against Cameron’s upper arm, she launched into her own introductions. “Pleased to meet you, Sascha. This is Cameron.”

  Cameron smiled at Sascha. “Congratulations on your recent nuptials. How was the honeymoon?”

  Sascha’s brow furrowed but Tim quickly stepped in. “Cameron is the head of Lyrique Recordings. He was most gracious about granting me leave on such short notice.”

  “Not a problem,” Cameron replied. Although he smiled, Peppa glanced between the two men noticing they appeared like two hyenas ready to attack. “It was nice bumping into you but we must be moving on. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.”

  “Will do,” replied Tim and Sascha in unison.

  Taking her hand, Cameron led them back toward the pier and Peppa tried to focus on licking her ice cream. Usually one of her favorite desserts, the cold did nothing but freeze her brain. It certainly didn’t slow the racing of her heart or ease the sick feeling in her gut.

  When they were far enough away from the ice-cream parlor, Cameron stopped at a park bench and pulled her down. Her thigh pressed against his and for the first time, the desire wasn’t as strong as her shock.

  “What was that all about?” asked Cameron, far too intuitive for her liking.

  “What?” She tried for open-eyed innocence as she took a tentative lick of her ice-cream cone.

  He put one hand on her arm and turned her to face him. She saw his brows raised in utter disbelief. His own ice cream held to one side, untouched. “You were like a scatty cat back there. Was it Tim?”

  “Of course it was Tim.” She tried to shrug Cameron off, angry that her actions had betrayed the churning inside her gut. She’d thought she’d played the part of the carefree ex quite well. “You and I agreed to keep our—” What should she call it? “—our liaison separate to work and now Tim’s seen us together. It’ll be round all the departments first thing tomorrow morning. You know how the office loves a good game of Chinese Whispers, so we’ll probably have eloped and have a love-child on the way.”

  He laughed out loud at her nervous ramblings. Good, it seemed to have distracted his enquiring mind.

  “I’ll buy a play pen for the corner of my office and really get them talking, shall I?”

  She tried to laugh at his ridiculous suggestion but it came out as a half-hearted smile.

  And blast it, he noticed.

  “But that’s not why you were on edge, is it?” He looked searchingly into her eyes and she fought the urge to look away. Fought the tears that were threatening to barrel through her facade. “Tim’s the ex you mentioned, isn’t he?”

  Cameron’s hand rested on top of hers now. And no matter how hard she tried to tame the trembling, Peppa knew he felt every tremor.

  She swallowed, stared at her melting ice cream and nodded. “Yes. Tim and I were an item for three years.”

  “I see.” He squeezed her hand gently and proceeded to draw comforting circles on her palm. “Must be hard seeing him with his new wife. Do you still have feelings for him?”

  “No.” The word came out like a gunshot. She took a breath. “No, I don’t love him anymore. It was just a shock that’s all.” And now she wanted to change the subject to something totally innocuous before he asked anything further and her emotions really started to unravel.

  He got in first. “Why did you break up?”

  Blast it! They’d been enjoying the perfect day and now he wanted to have a deep-and-meaningful heart-to-heart? She took a moment, trying to think of the best course of action, of how much she should reveal. He didn’t seem the type to give up when there was something he wanted to know.

  “He really wanted to have a family.” She hoped he didn’t notice her voice break on the last word.

  “But so do you?” He let go of her hand and finally began on his ice cream.

  He was right. At the very core of her being was the desire to be a mother. The desire to raise a big, happy brood. She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  His ice cream hovered in front of his mouth as his lips adopted a frown. “I don’t understand. If he wanted a family and you wanted a family then—”

&nbs
p; “We got pregnant and I lost the baby.” The confession spilled from her lips in a rush. Her cheeks burned and the second the words were out, she cursed herself for telling him. There was a certain thing as too much information, especially where no-strings-attached sex and Cameron were concerned.

  “I’m sorry.” He tossed the ice cream in the bin behind him and she couldn’t help but notice his face go very pale. “That must have been hell but I still don’t understand why it meant the doom of your relationship.”

  She sucked in air, suddenly desperate for oxygen. She didn’t think he’d accept a simple, I’d rather not talk about it. Her own ice cream followed his into the trash. “I had an ectopic pregnancy.”

  He inclined his head, his eyes intent on hers and his mouth a serious line. “What exactly does that entail?”

  “I lost one of my fallopian tubes.” She swallowed, her mouth dry, her heart thumping and her tear ducts ready to let loose. Please, God, don’t let me cry. “When they ran tests, they discovered the second tube is what they call ‘torturous.’ Basically, it might make conceiving again more difficult.”

  She didn’t tell Cameron that Tim had dismissed the idea of IVF treatment as soon as their doctor had raised it. It was too expensive, too much of a gamble and he didn’t like the intrusive things he’d have to do when it was her fault. She shuddered recalling Tim’s harsh words. She’d thought he loved her, but when he hadn’t wasted any time in ending their relationship, it became clear he’d seen her simply as a means to an end. He wanted a family—the odds weren’t good on her providing one.

  “What a bastard.” Cameron’s harsh tone pulled her from the nasty memories.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “He couldn’t help his feelings. Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

  “Of course not.”

  Cameron unclenched his fists which had curled into tight balls at Penelope’s story. The man was a total lowlife and, if he could reject Penelope so cruelly, he also wasn’t right in the head. Still, she’d said she didn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d respect that. He knew firsthand how talking over tragedy didn’t numb the pain as everyone said it did.

  He scooped up her hand and pulled her from the park bench. Tim had already ruined their dessert; he didn’t want the man to steal all the magic from the day. He’d have to stamp out the painful memories with more pleasurable ones.

  “Fancy an evening sail or would you prefer a nightcap below the deck?” He winked, making his insinuation clear.

  She smiled but the curve of her mouth didn’t quite reach her eyes. “A nightcap would be lovely.”

  They walked back in silence. Despite the open air, the atmosphere seemed stifling, so different to when they’d left the yacht half an hour ago. Cameron knew he had work to do.

  When they arrived, he took her hand and led her beneath the deck into the roomy lounge area before raiding the bar for something strong and sweet. He poured, turned, held the drink out to where she’d flopped onto the leather couch and was almost knocked sideways by the thought of how beautiful and vulnerable she looked.

  Vulnerable.

  Before he could say anything, she looked up and caught him staring. She bit her lip, sighed and then spoke. “I’m sorry for spoiling the evening.”

  He collapsed on the seat beside her, warmth flooding his body as her hand closed around the glass. He wasn’t strong enough to remove his fingers. Instead, he guided the glass to her mouth, pressed it gently but firmly against her lips and eased the liquid down.

  After a couple of sips, she pushed his hand away. He put the glass to one side and said, “You didn’t spoil anything. I’ve had a fabulous day.”

  And he had. The day had exceeded all expectations he’d brought to the table that morning. Quite aside from the sex, they’d talked so much Penelope’s voice had gone husky and he felt as if he were getting a sore throat.

  His fingers froze around the glass as the memory of the last time he’d felt like this slammed into his head. It felt as if he’d been hit by a road train. He’d never thought he’d feel so connected to another person, another woman, ever again. He never wanted to.

  He just couldn’t.

  “Cameron, are you okay?”

  He frowned, taking in her blotchy face and tear-stained eyes. And she was asking him if he was okay? Tim’s appearance had knocked her for six. With barely a sentence, he’d stolen the witty, carefree woman Cameron had spent the day with. Penelope was obviously very upset about their breakup and the lost pregnancy. He’d be an idiot to ignore the facts.

  He’d known from that first night she was the marrying, mothering type, yet he’d pushed this knowledge aside, listened to his libido and focused on the chemistry that arced between them.

  Perhaps it was time to reassess his game plan. “I’m fine, but I’m wondering if after the events of the evening we’d be better to cool things.”

  “Cool things?” Her hand rushed to her throat. He noted wariness in her narrow eyes. “Why?”

  He shook his head with a short, almost bitter laugh. “Why? Because of what happened back there with Tim. Because you were about to marry the guy. Because you want to have a family and I’m just not in that ballpark.”

  She bit her lip as if pondering his words. Eventually she spoke in a slow, even tone. “You’re right, I do want to have a family—more than anything—but I’ve just walked out of a serious relationship. My heart and body have been wounded beyond belief and I’m not ready to risk putting them through the wringer again. I don’t need marriage and family from you. I need you to take my mind off all of that while I heal.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She reached out to touch him, tracing one finger down the side of his face, over his jaw line to linger on his lower lip as she stared into his eyes. “Never been surer of anything in my life.”

  He scoured her eyes, trying to decipher if she meant it. How many stories had he heard of women thinking they knew what they wanted only to change their minds shortly after?

  “Cameron, please,” she urged, her pressure on his lip increasing. “I’m fine.”

  He let out a strangled curse. How was he supposed to stay true to reason when all his brain cells were rushing south?

  With one final gasp for sense, he caught her finger in his mouth. Sucked, caressed nibbled, until they were both writhing for more. He leaned closer still, brushed his lips along her jaw and down the length of her delicious neck, nuzzling at the vee of her cleavage. A moan escaped her mouth as she twisted to meet his kiss. The urgency of their earlier interactions was absent but the depth of passion wasn’t any less. He wanted her and she wanted him.

  His hands sought the zipper of her sundress. It felt like déjà vu but was no less thrilling than the first time when he’d watched her slide the dress over her lush curves earlier that day and fantasized about doing it himself. He peeled it slowly down to her waist, his breath faltering as his gaze traveled over the delicate plains of her skin.

  “You take my breath away,” he whispered, pausing simply to look his fill.

  Her hands tugged his shirt from his trousers. “I promise the feeling is entirely mutual.” As his shirt tumbled from his shoulders onto the couch behind them, any self-control he was trying to hold on to crumbled. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pushed her gently back onto the leather. With a small tug, her dress slipped easily off her body and he took her panties with them moments later. She reached up to touch his fly but his need was strong and urgent and the look in her eyes told him hers was equally so.

  He took it upon himself to yank off his trousers, his breath hitching as the material scraped his erection. She smiled at the sight as he freed himself. Then he leaned down and reached out to caress her breasts. He feared one touch would be his undoing, but wanted to give her all the pleasure she gave him.

  “No.” Her instruction was short, sharp and breathy. “I want you. Now.”

  The pressure in his chest released at her words. He
couldn’t help but grin as he quickly fumbled for a condom.

  “Heaven forbid I don’t give the lady what she wants.” And with those words, he slid deep inside her silky warmth. Their moans of ecstasy came together. Familiar now but still amazing, her body moved in time with his and it didn’t take long before they were both exactly where they wanted—needed—to be.

  Later when Cameron dropped Penelope off at her apartment, she stood in the doorway looking utterly adorable, utterly beddable and utterly irresistible. “Do you have to rush off?” she asked as Cameron pulled back from kissing her good-night. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

  The tone of her voice, the look of intent in her eyes, made it impossible for him to misunderstand. She wanted him to sleep with her. Really sleep.

  As much as the idea surprisingly appealed, he knew he couldn’t risk it. Night terrors had plagued him on and off as long as he could remember. He’d always assumed they’d had something to do with his tragic childhood. But when he’d lost Kristen, they’d compounded, multiplied into the kind of nightmares that absolutely took over. Nightmares that made you scream out loud, your heart race, your bones ache, your stomach wrench and your fists pummel the pillow as they sought some form of relief. Unrelenting demons that made him wonder if he’d ever be able to live a normal life again.

  He was certain no one suspected. It had been three years and although he scraped by from day-to-day on very limited sleep, he believed he’d succeeded in not letting anyone see that deep inside he was a mess. That whenever he closed his eyes he saw those last few moments of his wife’s life and wondered if there was anything he could have done to save her.

  “Thanks but not tonight.” Then, he kissed her on the forehead and walked away.

  Chapter Ten

  Sipping on her chocolate milkshake, Peppa pushed open the staff tea-room door with her foot. Her eyes darted around the room and she sighed as she noted only one person. She didn’t know why she suddenly expected, hoped to see Cameron at every blinkin’ turn, but her heart was on red alert just in case.