her eyes, she let out a soft sigh and thought about the intriguing opportunity that had just presented itself—not to mention all the provocative, seductive ways this night might end.
For months they'd evaded the lust and desire building between them, and she was beyond ready to let their escalating attraction take its natural course. Even if that meant being the one to lead Cameron down the path to temptation.
She smiled to herself as Cameron navigated the Porsche toward his place. Oh, yeah, the real fun was just about to begin.
TWENTY minutes later, Cameron pulled into the driveway leading to his house, which was located at the end of a cul-de-sac in a well-kept neighborhood just outside Chicago. He pressed the remote for the garage door, and once it rolled opened, he parked his Porsche inside and cut the engine.
He glanced over at Mia, who'd remained uncharacteristically quiet on the drive over. There could be only one reason for that, because it wasn't often that Mia was silent by choice: she must have given in to drunken exhaustion and had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even, and she looked very relaxed against the soft leather seat, though he could only imagine how uncomfortable and cold she must be in the damp T-shirt she was still wearing.
It was so odd seeing Mia this way—so calm and compliant. He was still amazed she hadn't put up a fight when he'd carried her out of The Electric Blue, which was so unlike her. He was used to dealing with a feisty, impetuous woman—like when she'd pressed her hand against his cock in the bar's back hallway.
He swallowed back a groan. Just remembering how she'd brazenly stroked and squeezed his shaft through the tight denim confining his erection made him hard all over again. Such a predictable and unwelcome response when it came to Mia, yet he couldn't stop wanting her, no matter how hard he tried. There was no blocking the lust that kicked up his adrenaline whenever she was near. No shutting out the recurring fantasy he had of burying himself deep inside her soft, lush body and hearing his name on her lips when she came.
He shook his head hard to dispel that erotic image. God, this woman was going to be the death of him, he was certain. No doubt he was going to expire from the excruciating, all-consuming sexual tension driving him slowly insane.
She stirred against the seat and then her lashes slowly drifted open, revealing her smoky gray eyes that looked soft and dreamy. "Hi," she said, a slight rasp to her voice.
"Hi, yourself." He searched her face, wondering if she was still feeling tipsy, or worse, woozy from the drive. "Are you doing okay?"
A slight, knowing smile hitched up the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to get sick all over your fancy car if that's what you're worried about."
She obviously knew him better than he would have given her credit for. "I'll admit, the thought did cross my mind."
"My stomach is fine." She shivered delicately and rubbed her bare arms with her hands. "I'm just a little cold from this wet top."
Yes, definitely cold, he agreed, and dragged his gaze away from her full breasts and the twin points pressing so enticingly against her shirt. "I'll give you something warm and dry to sleep in. Can you make it into the house on your own?"
She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, suddenly looking distressed. "I don't know. I'm feeling so… light-headed," she murmured and then cast him a forlorn glance. "But if I have a big, strong man like you to lean on, I could probably manage."
He couldn't tell if she was exaggerating or not, but he wasn't about to take any chances. So he got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and helped her out. With one of his arms tucked around her back and her arm draped over his shoulder, he navigated the way into the house and down the hallway with her swaying on her high-heeled shoes by his
For months they'd evaded the lust and desire building between them, and she was beyond ready to let their escalating attraction take its natural course. Even if that meant being the one to lead Cameron down the path to temptation.
She smiled to herself as Cameron navigated the Porsche toward his place. Oh, yeah, the real fun was just about to begin.
TWENTY minutes later, Cameron pulled into the driveway leading to his house, which was located at the end of a cul-de-sac in a well-kept neighborhood just outside Chicago. He pressed the remote for the garage door, and once it rolled opened, he parked his Porsche inside and cut the engine.
He glanced over at Mia, who'd remained uncharacteristically quiet on the drive over. There could be only one reason for that, because it wasn't often that Mia was silent by choice: she must have given in to drunken exhaustion and had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even, and she looked very relaxed against the soft leather seat, though he could only imagine how uncomfortable and cold she must be in the damp T-shirt she was still wearing.
It was so odd seeing Mia this way—so calm and compliant. He was still amazed she hadn't put up a fight when he'd carried her out of The Electric Blue, which was so unlike her. He was used to dealing with a feisty, impetuous woman—like when she'd pressed her hand against his cock in the bar's back hallway.
He swallowed back a groan. Just remembering how she'd brazenly stroked and squeezed his shaft through the tight denim confining his erection made him hard all over again. Such a predictable and unwelcome response when it came to Mia, yet he couldn't stop wanting her, no matter how hard he tried. There was no blocking the lust that kicked up his adrenaline whenever she was near. No shutting out the recurring fantasy he had of burying himself deep inside her soft, lush body and hearing his name on her lips when she came.
He shook his head hard to dispel that erotic image. God, this woman was going to be the death of him, he was certain. No doubt he was going to expire from the excruciating, all-consuming sexual tension driving him slowly insane.
She stirred against the seat and then her lashes slowly drifted open, revealing her smoky gray eyes that looked soft and dreamy. "Hi," she said, a slight rasp to her voice.
"Hi, yourself." He searched her face, wondering if she was still feeling tipsy, or worse, woozy from the drive. "Are you doing okay?"
A slight, knowing smile hitched up the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to get sick all over your fancy car if that's what you're worried about."
She obviously knew him better than he would have given her credit for. "I'll admit, the thought did cross my mind."
"My stomach is fine." She shivered delicately and rubbed her bare arms with her hands. "I'm just a little cold from this wet top."
Yes, definitely cold, he agreed, and dragged his gaze away from her full breasts and the twin points pressing so enticingly against her shirt. "I'll give you something warm and dry to sleep in. Can you make it into the house on your own?"
She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, suddenly looking distressed. "I don't know. I'm feeling so… light-headed," she murmured and then cast him a forlorn glance. "But if I have a big, strong man like you to lean on, I could probably manage."
He couldn't tell if she was exaggerating or not, but he wasn't about to take any chances. So he got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and helped her out. With one of his arms tucked around her back and her arm draped over his shoulder, he navigated the way into the house and down the hallway with her swaying on her high-heeled shoes by his
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