And first, they had to get through dinner.
The little Italian bistro was both cozy and romantic and, as Cam had promised, there were neatly pressed cloths on the tables, candles flickering and wineglasses waiting to be filled.
The maître d’ led them to a table for two tucked away in a corner, presented them with their menus, and wished them “buona sera.”
Their waiter appeared almost immediately with a basket of warm bread, a pot of whipped butter and a pitcher of water. He announced the specials of the day—which included chicken, pasta and fish—and recommended wine pairings for each.
Ashley opted for the pasta, Cam chose the chicken and they both decided on wine.
Although the service was prompt, the atmosphere was relaxed and they chatted casually while they ate, first nibbling on the warm bread, then their salads and finally the main courses when they were delivered.
Ashley finished her second glass of wine before her tortellini, but declined Cam’s offer of a third. The two glasses were hopefully enough to lessen her inhibitions about getting naked with Cam, but not so much that he would have qualms about taking advantage of a woman in a less-than-sober state.
There were still a few pasta crowns on her plate when she pushed it aside, but she was afraid that she would be testing the seams in her new dress if she finished them.
The busboy immediately whisked away their dinner plates and the waiter followed on his heels to deliver the dessert menu.
Cam opened the small leather folder.
“Amaretto cheesecake, cannoli, gelato, tiramisu.” He read through the offerings, trying to tempt her.
She shook her head regretfully. “Not in this dress.”
His eyes dropped, skimming over shoulders that were left bare by the halter-style top before dipping lower to follow the plunging neckline to the curve of her breasts. She felt the warmth of his gaze like a caress, and her nipples puckered instinctively. The flare of heat in his eyes warned that her body’s response had not gone unnoticed, nor unappreciated.
His eyes shifted to hers again, his lips curved. “Did I mention that I like the dress?”
She swallowed. “Not in so many words.”
He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “Did I mention that I’d really like to get you out of that dress?”
“Not in so many words,” she said again.
“Do you still think being here with me tonight was a bad idea?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his eyes dark with promise.
Ashley knew that if she told him yes, if she gave any hint that she regretted the impulse that had led her to accept his invitation, he would back off, he would give her space. But she didn’t want space—she wanted Cam.
“I think,” she said, keeping her gaze steady on his, “that being here with you might only be the first of several bad ideas we try tonight.”
He closed the menu.
The waiter, obviously watching for his cue, immediately appeared. “Dessert, sir?”
Cam shook his head, his eyes never leaving her face. “Just the check, please.”
And the tingles that had started low in her belly began to spread to her fingertips and her toes and all the erogenous zones in between.
He took care of the bill then pushed back his chair and offered her his hand. His grip was warm and strong, and Ashley’s knees trembled as she thought of those hands moving over her body, touching her, teasing her, pleasing her.
She was so caught up in these erotic thoughts that she didn’t even notice the other man until he stepped directly in her path.
“Hello, Ashley.”
Her mood plummeted, and she silently cursed her exfiancé for killing the mood as she forced a smile to her lips. “Trevor. Hi.”
Then Cam’s hand squeezed hers, questioning, and the tingles surged through her blood again. And she knew that Trevor couldn’t ruin anything else for her—and especially not her plans to be with Cam tonight. So she smiled back at her date, reassuring.
“I just finished dinner with a colleague,” Trevor said. “But she had to run, so why don’t you and your…friend…join me for coffee?”
If he was hinting for an introduction, he was going to be disappointed. Ashley had no intention of tainting her evening with Cam by bringing him into this confrontation. Instead, she lifted a brow and asked, “Is that the colleague you’re currently sleeping with? Or have you made your way through the entire office staff already and moved on?”
Trevor’s face flushed. “Really, Ashley, there’s no need to be snide.”
“I’d say there’s every reason, except the truth is, I really don’t give a damn who you’re screwing anymore.”
“I thought—I’d hoped—that we could have a rational discussion about our relationship, but obviously you’re still hurting.”
He stepped back so she could pass, but Ashley couldn’t let him have the last word. “We don’t have a relationship and I’m not still hurting, I’m simply over you. Completely.”
She started to walk away then, but her hand was still linked with Cam’s and he wasn’t quite ready to go.
“I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the opportunity to meet Ashley’s ex-fiancé,” Cam said to Trevor. “But I’m glad we saw you here tonight because I really wanted to thank you.”
Trevor scowled. “Why are you thanking me?”
“Because you screwed up with the most amazing woman you’ll ever know and she’s going home with me tonight.”
Ashley didn’t bother to hide her smile as she and Cam finally exited the restaurant. “I can’t believe you said that to him, but it was a great line.”
“It was petty and mean, but I couldn’t resist.”
“It was also wrong,” she informed him.
“You’re not going home with me tonight?” he guessed, opening the door of his SUV for her.
She heard the disappointment in his voice and felt a surge of purely female satisfaction. Because she knew—despite her blatant invitation in the restaurant—that Cam wouldn’t push her for more than she was ready to give. And maybe there was a part of her that was tempted to tease him a little more, but the temptation wasn’t nearly as strong as the desire that was churning in her veins.
“No.” She leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. “You’re coming home with me.”
Chapter Ten
Cam blatantly disregarded the speed limit on the trip back to Pinehurst, anxious to get Ashley home before she changed her mind and reneged on her offer.
“Whose idea was it to go all the way to Syracuse for dinner anyway?” he grumbled, when he finally turned onto Chetwood Street.
Ashley laughed. “It was your idea. And it was a good one. Dinner was fabulous.”
“There are good restaurants in Pinehurst.”
“Maybe we’ll try one of those next time.”
He pulled into her driveway, shut off the engine. “Does that mean there’s going to be a next time?”
She lifted one shoulder. “That depends on how the rest of the night goes.”
He helped her out of the SUV and walked her to the door. “Is that a challenge?”
She turned her key in the lock before pivoting to face him. “Are you up to it?”
He pressed against her, reassuring her that he was very definitely up for the challenge.
Ashley responded by sliding her hands up his chest, linking them behind his head and pulling his mouth down to hers. She teased him with her lips and her tongue, with the fingertips that stroked the back of his neck, with the breasts that rubbed against his chest, until he was tempted to take her right here and now, against her front door, with her skirt hiked up around her hips and her legs locked around him.
The mental image, enticing though it was, forced him to take a step back.
“Give me five minutes,” he told her.
She lifted her brows. “I was hoping it would take a little longer than that.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to park my car in my own driveway
so we don’t give the neighbors reason to talk. And then—” he brushed his lips against hers “—we will have all night.”
It was a tantalizing promise that made her heart pound and her knees weak, but Ashley wasn’t looking for promises. She wasn’t looking for anything more than this one night, even if she had slipped and mentioned the possibility of a next time. But more than one date constituted dating, and dating implied a relationship, and Ashley didn’t want a relationship. She only wanted to ride the tide of euphoric lust that seemed to wash over her whenever she was with Cam.
The intensity of the desire was both reassuring and unnerving. Reassuring because it had been so long since she’d wanted to be with any man. And unnerving because she’d never wanted any other man as much as she wanted Cam.
When she’d met Trevor, when she’d decided to marry him, it hadn’t bothered her that she didn’t feel the same feverish excitement she’d felt with Cam. Because she’d attributed the intensity of her feelings for Cam to the hormones of youth and, by the time she met Trevor, she’d grown up. She didn’t want or expect to be swept away by desire.
And yet, the most casual brush of Cam’s hand against her arm had her feeling that same euphoric anticipation, and just the touch of his lips to hers inspired the same unrestrained eagerness to tear off his clothes and join their bodies together.
She stood at the door, watching for him. Waiting. Wanting.
And then he was there, and she was in his arms.
He flipped the lock as he pressed her back against the door. His mouth descended on hers again, his tongue sliding between her lips, teasing, tempting. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body closer. Her breasts rubbed against the solid wall of his chest, her nipples pebbling. She shifted her hips, angling them to meet his, and felt the hard press of his erection against the throbbing ache between her thighs. Fireworks erupted inside of her, little bursts of pleasure that left her gasping with shocked delight even as her body ached for more. So much more.
As if in response to her unspoken demand, his hands curled over the curve of her bottom, lifting her off the ground to press her more intimately against him.
Heat rushed through her veins, lust quivered in her belly. She felt hot and willful and reckless, and she didn’t care. She only wanted.
Ashley’s legs circled around his waist, anchoring her pelvis against his, and Cam realized that it was possible for the human body to go from zero to sixty in point-two seconds. And then she began rocking her hips, and the erotic motion threatened the already tenuous grip that Cam had on his self-control.
“If we don’t find a bed soon, it’s going to be too late,” he warned her.
“Upstairs. First door on the left.”
He pushed open the door but didn’t bother searching for the lights. He let his instincts—and the thin sliver of moonlight that slanted through the open blinds—guide him.
Her bed was only a double, which might have disappointed any other man who was used to sleeping in a king. But it was Ashley’s bedroom and he didn’t plan on getting much sleep—two factors that more than made up for the narrowness of the mattress.
He laid her on the bed and sank down with her.
“I can’t believe how much I want you,” he admitted. “How much I’ve wanted you since I first saw you again at the reunion.”
“I didn’t invite you up here for conversation,” she told him.
“And I’m grateful for that,” he said. “But I can’t help but wonder what changed your mind?”
She tugged his shirt out of his pants. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”
“No,” he admitted, his breathing more than a little strained. “But something tells me that we should.”
Instead, she leaned closer to nibble on his earlobe and whisper a very erotic suggestion to him. And all thought and reason drained out of his head along with the blood that surged quickly south.
He grasped the hem of her skirt and slid it upward, his hands guiding it over the curve of her thighs, her hips, her waist, her breasts. He stopped kissing her only long enough to tug the garment over her head and toss it aside.
He couldn’t see much more than shadows, and he wanted to see her, needed to see her. So he reached for the lamp beside the bed and switched it on. Soft light spilled out from beneath the shade, illuminating her. And for the second time that night, just looking at her took his breath away.
He laid her back on the bed and took a moment simply to absorb the sight of her. From the golden hair splayed over the chocolate-brown pillowcase, to the graceful slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts covered in sexy black lace, and the indent of her narrow waist. From the subtle flare of her hips to a triangle of matching black lace at the apex of her thighs, and down the long, lean legs to sexy little toes.
She’d been too thin as a teenager, her curves barely existent. She was definitely a woman now, a little softer around the edges, her curves a little fuller, and his desire for her now even stronger.
He eased her over onto her stomach.
“What are you….” The indignant question faded on a sigh as his lips touched the base of her spine. “Oh.”
He finished kissing each of the five freckles in turn.
“I had to make sure they were still there,” he told her, and rolled her onto her back again.
“I’d forgotten about them,” she admitted.
“I couldn’t forget them…or you.” He touched his lips to hers. “You were—and are—perfect.”
Her lips curved, just a little. “And you’re still dressed.”
He stripped away his shirt and pants and socks, but kept his briefs on for the moment. As he knelt over her on the bed again, he had a sudden, disconcerting thought.
“I wasn’t planning for this to happen tonight,” he admitted. “And I stopped carrying condoms in my wallet a long time ago.”
“I take care of myself,” she assured him.
“You’re on the Pill?”
He saw a flicker of something in her eyes, then she quickly looked away. Cam wasn’t sure what to make of her lack of response, but then she drew his head back down to her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, and kissed him—long and slow and deep.
He sank down onto the bed with her. She was soft and warm and willing, and he wanted nothing else as much as he wanted to sink into the welcoming heat of her body. His body urged him on, clamoring for release of the tension that had been building for days, weeks, months. A release that only she could give him.
But she deserved better than that. Considering their history, she deserved a lot better. He’d loved her when he was a boy, but he hadn’t been careful with her. He’d hurt her, and that was something he’d never wanted to do. And though he knew there was no way to make up for what had been done in the past, he could at least make sure this experience was a good one for her.
So he took his time, touching her slowly, carefully. His fingertips danced gently over her skin, tracing the scalloped cups of her bra, stroking the sides of her torso, the lace edge of her panties, the soft insides of her thighs. Then his lips followed a similar path, lingering here and there, letting her soft sighs and moans guide him.
He unhooked the clasp at her back and slowly pulled her bra off. As the lacy fabric slid across her breasts, over her nipples, her breath caught, her eyes darkened.
“Cam.” It wasn’t just his name, it was a plea.
“This is the first time we’ve actually made love in a bed. I don’t want to rush it.”
“I have no objection to rushing…the first time,” she told him.
He chuckled. “I’ll bet I can change your mind about that.”
“Do you think you could forget about my mind and focus on my body?”
“Believe me, I’m focused,” he told her, and dropped his head to take a turgid nipple in his mouth.
She arched instinctively, urging him to take more, to suckle deeper, and moaned when he accepted her
invitation.
“Oh…my…oh…Cam.”
He moved to the other breast, gave it the same thorough attention until she was squirming and panting.
“Cam, please.”
“Tell me what you want.”
She didn’t hesitate to respond. “You. Inside of me. Please.”
He nibbled gently on her bottom lip, teasing. “I don’t remember you being quite so impatient.”
“I don’t remember ever wanting anyone as much as I want you right now,” she admitted breathlessly.
It was gratifying to know that she felt the same way he did, but he continued his leisurely exploration, determined to show her how very much he wanted, and how much he wanted to please her.
His lips trailed down her throat, skimmed between her breasts, over her belly. He pushed her panties over her hips, and stripped them away. Then he spread her thighs and continued exploring her body with his mouth.
Ashley sucked in a breath.
“Cam.” His name was both a reverent whisper and a heartfelt plea, and he responded.
His tongue dipped and dabbled. Slow, deep strokes alternating with short, rapid flicks that had her mind spinning and her body exploding like a Fourth of July fireworks finale.
She sobbed out his name as her body trembled and shuddered.
Finally he rose over her.
Her body was still quivering with the aftershocks of pleasure, but she suddenly felt cold.
She should have been filled with excitement and anticipation. This was what she’d been waiting for—not just the merging of their bodies but the potential merging of their DNA.
But as much as she wanted a child—as much as she wanted Cameron’s child—she knew that going about it this way was wrong. She couldn’t do it.
“Wait,” she said.
His brows lifted. “Now you want me to wait?”
She reached blindly for the handle of the drawer in her nightstand, then fumbled around inside until her fingers found a small square packet.
Cam didn’t ask any questions or make any protest. He simply took the packet from her hand, tore it open and quickly sheathed himself, and the icy numbness that had gripped her heart melted away.
The Pregnancy Plan Page 12