Chapter 29
twenty-nine
Rosalie
Cameron’s laugh is deep and sexy. It fills the open space of his living room, ricocheting all around me.
Placing a quick peck on my lips, he leads me deeper into the house. “Yeah, this is my place. Come on, I’ll show you around really quick, and then we can eat.”
Following him into the kitchen, he takes the pizza box from my hand and throws it in the oven on low to keep it warm. As soon as he closes the oven door, he grabs my hand and starts walking me through the house.
It’s homey, with toys scattered from Addison, warm tones throughout. There are family photos on every surface. Not in a gaudy way but in a way that tells me Cameron does a great job keeping his wife’s memory alive for him and his daughter, and the realization endears me to him that much more.
“That’s Julianne?” I ask, pointing to a photo of a beautiful brunette who looks so much like Addison, it’s remarkable.
“It is,” Cameron says, and his tone exudes so much love. I expect it to be paired with sorrow and grief, but when I look up, there’s nothing but happy adoration.
My thoughts wander, and I wonder how the hell he’s managed to move forward in life without the grief continuously pulling him under.
“Hey,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Where’d you go?”
Not wanting to ruin the mood of the evening with my own issues, I shake my head. “Nowhere, I was just thinking you three made a beautiful family.”
Cameron clears his throat. “Thank you, Rosalie.” His voice is full of an emotion I can’t quite name but sounds a lot like fondness.
He tugs me back toward the kitchen, effectively moving us on from more serious topics.
“So, are you ready to eat?”
“Absolutely.”
Once in the kitchen, I remove the box from the oven while Cameron opens the refrigerator to grab drinks. Or so I thought. Instead, I find him pulling out the ingredients for a salad.
I laugh quietly and Cameron gives me a questioning look.
“I’m beginning to think you only know how to make salads and you rely on others to supply your main course.”
He tilts his head in confusion.
“The first night you cooked for me at my house, we ate your mom’s lasagna, and you made a salad. And now, you’ve brought me over here for a date, had someone else make us pizza, and are also making us a salad. Should I be concerned?”
My tone is playful, and he mirrors it with his own, a huge smile taking over his face. He moves toward me in a flash, lifting me onto the counter. The quick movement startles my hands, and they immediately fly to his shoulders to steady myself.
“Oh my gosh, Cameron.” His name coming out breathy and full of need.
It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man. Vet school and Paige took up most of my time for the past several years, so dates and sex have been infrequent to say the least. That has to be why my words sound desperate and more like a plea.
He moves forward in an instant, placing himself between my spread thighs and slipping his hands down to cup my ass. He pulls me toward him, his lips only millimeters from mine when he says, “That’s exactly how I want you saying my name when you come apart on my tongue.”
His lips crash against mine again, hard and a little punishing. It’s likely for my smart-ass comment, but I’m not mad about it. I think I like commanding Cameron.
Moving his mouth across my cheek to the spot below my ear, he trails kisses down my neck to my exposed shoulder.
My shirt gives him easy access to my breast, and he takes full advantage of this, gently pulling down the neckline to expose the top swell, laving kisses there as his hands travel upward under the hem of my shirt.
Gentler than I expected from how this situation began, he slowly glides them up my rib cage, his thumbs softly brushing the underside of my breast before he gives them a little squeeze.
He uses gentle pressure on my sternum to guide me down until I’m lying back on the counter.
My breaths are coming out ridiculously fast with his mouth and hands busy exploring every inch of me, and all I can do is listen to my own panting and the sounds of his kisses on my hypersensitive skin.
I feel his fingertips skate back down my body, leaving a path of tingles and heated skin in their wake, while his mouth follows with tiny nips and sucks along my abdomen, sending a spark straight to my core.
When he finally reaches the waistband of my jean skirt, I’m a writhing mess of anticipation, my hands flying to the edge of the countertop and gripping tightly in an attempt to steady myself.
Cameron chuckles against my skin, and I can’t decide if I love him or hate him for this pleasurable torture.
Just when I think he’s about to unbutton my skirt, he glances up at me, eyes filled with such intense heat I can’t look away. Holding eye contact, a wicked smile crosses his lips right before he lifts my ass into the air and abruptly shoves my skirt up around my waist.
I gasp as the cold surface of the granite countertop hits the back of my legs and Cameron’s eyes flare.
Hoping my panties will be next, he surprises me by lightly cascading down the back of my thighs and over my calves, carefully pulling off my boots.
The anticipation is killing me, making my heart pound so hard I can hear it in my ears, and when his strong hands move up to pin my thighs open, I almost combust on the spot.
Cameron’s eye contact is practically unbearable, charged with salacious heat I can already feel in my core, as he continues to travel upward.
Reaching the apex of my thighs, he takes both thumbs and presses down on my clit.
The friction of my panties, combined with the pressure over my sensitive area, intensifies the feeling building at the base of my spine.
My back arches as a loud moan erupts from my mouth, and my head falls back against the countertop.
That must be Cameron’s breaking point because strong fingers close over the top of my panties, and they’re yanked down and discarded somewhere on the floor.
“I want to swallow every sound that comes out of your mouth, Rosalie,” he growls.
Please, my mind screams in desperation. My body obviously agrees because my heels hook to the edge of the counter and my legs flex, bringing my center closer to Cameron.
His eyes lock onto my pussy before he forcibly drags his gaze up to my face, making sure I’m okay with this. I totally fucking am.
I should be self-conscious, splayed out on the counter where we were just about to eat dinner, but I don’t have an ounce of embarrassment in me.
Not as he holds my gaze and lowers his mouth to my core.
Not as he licks and sucks like a man starved.
Not as my hands fly to the back of his head, holding him to me, grinding myself greedily against his mouth.
And not as he adds two fingers, moving them in and out of me in a relentless manner, causing my eyes to slam closed from the intensity of his touch inside me.
I shatter as pleasure erupts into every part of my being.
“Oh fuck, Cameron!” I scream.
His only reaction to his name on my lips is the tightening of his hand on my hips, holding me in place as he continues his delicious assault on my body until I’m a boneless mess on his countertop.
When I finally feel like I can open my eyes, I’m met with Cameron’s smirking face.
Without preamble, he slowly wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, never once breaking our insanely intense eye contact.
He finally breaks our gaze and picks up my panties from the floor, threading them back up my legs. The touch his fingers provide to my still buzzing skin has my breath increasing once more. I try to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the needy feeling, but Cameron’s standing between them.
The moment he realizes what’s happening, his eyes heat up, and I think we’re about to figure out how to fit round two into our dinner date, but instead, he helps me down off the countertop and finishes pulling up my panties with a gentle caress to my backside before replacing my skirt.
Reaching up to straighten my shirt, he pulls it back over one shoulder and places a tender kiss to the one that’s still exposed.
He’s quiet as he does all of this, but when everything’s back in place, he steps close so our bodies are flush.
His proximity forces me to tilt my chin up to look at him.
His eyes twinkle with mischief before he places both hands on the side of my face and presses a final hot kiss to my mouth.
“I’m more than capable of making my own main course, Rosalie.”
And, with that, he steps back and moves to the sink to clean up before returning to the other side of the counter to make our salad.
I stand there dumbfounded before I can’t help but let out a breathy laugh.
Touché, Cameron Brown. Touché.
Finally feeling like I can move again, I walk behind him to plate the now cold pizza, making sure to find a reason to reach in front of him and graze my palm over his still very hard dick and whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry, Cameron, next week is ‘Weenie Wednesday’ and it’s your turn to be the main course. ”
How I manage to say that with a straight face is beyond me, but it’s well worth the effort not to immediately burst out laughing when I feel his shoulders begin shaking violently. He then buckles at the waist, hands flat on the countertop, erupting into hysterical laughter.
When he’s composed himself, he stands, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks and turns to face me. His eyes flit between mine with wonder.
“Where the hell did I find a woman like you?”
“Where men find all the best women…on the side of the road.”
This pulls another round of laughter from both of us as we grab our plates and head to the table.
Dinner conversation is casual and flows easily. There’s so much laughter and flirty teasing that makes being with Cameron so much fun. I feel lighter than I have in days, and I have Cameron with his charming personality and magical tongue to thank for it.
Offering to wash the few dishes we’ve dirtied, I gather them up and head to the sink. With the easy actions of the familiar tasks, I let my mind wander, reliving each and every way Cameron’s mouth felt on my body.
Almost like my thoughts conjure him, I feel Cameron step up behind me, his body pinning me in place.
“Want some help?” His sexy voice murmurs in my ear as his hands slide over mine to help finish washing the last dish.
I’m about to give some smart-ass answer when he starts raining open-mouth kisses down my neck and across my shoulder, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin.
Cameron lets out a moan at my body’s turned-on reaction.
There’s something so sensual about this moment. His arms around me, his muscular chest at my back, hands sliding over mine, slick with soap, all while the heat of his mouth licks its way back up to my ear.
He gently tugs my earlobe with his teeth, eliciting a gasp and a zing of sensation all the way down between my legs.
“Shit, Rosalie, the little noises you make drive me fucking crazy.”
I can’t see his face, but his strained voice and ragged breaths tell me he’s just as turned on as I am, a fact confirmed when I notice the feel of a prominent bulge digging into my lower back.
I shift and grind back against him.
He hisses a breath through his teeth and brings his wet hands to my waist, grasping me firmly to stop my actions. He drops his head between my shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh before taking a step back.
I whimper at the loss of our connection and turn around in his arms, placing my hands on his chest, leaving two wet handprints on each pec, before fisting his shirt and pulling him toward me.
“Why’d you stop?” I give him a pleading look, hoping it conveys every ounce of my need for him.
He chuckles, but it’s followed by a swipe of his hands down his face, as if he’s willing himself to stay in control. He places them over mine against his chest and looks at me with sincerity.
“Baby, if we had infinite time and no responsibilities, I’d take you back to my room right now and fuck you every which way until tomorrow morning.
But we only have fifteen minutes until we need to pick up the girls from camp, and I can guarantee it’s not nearly enough time for me to do every filthy thing I want with you. ”
Well, damn his dirty mouth and rational thinking are sexy.
My disappointment must be evident on my face because he leans down to give me a lingering kiss full of promises before pulling back, spinning me toward the door to leave, and playfully swatting my ass.
“All right, ma’am, let’s go.”