2. Cameron
Cameron
Cameron Delahunt hadn’t felt such a sense of victory in a long time. And for a man to whom victory in most things had become expected and a little ... boring, this was a novel experience.
She was accepting his offer to share a drink. The woman he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off since she’d walked in. He’d been facing the bar and the huge mirror behind it had afforded a perfect reflected view of her and her friend.
He hadn’t come out this evening to find a woman. He was in Dublin for one night on business. It wasn’t that he was averse to meeting someone for some fun, but, frankly, in recent months, his libido had been flatlining. Not one woman had caused a blip in his blood.
He’d put it down to a few too many close encounters with lovers who’d had more on their minds, like settling down.
Long-term commitment. Things he had no intention of indulging in, thank you very much.
He was a lone wolf and always would be. It was in his DNA, thanks to his parents who’d ducked out when he was little more than a baby, leaving him at the mercy of the system.
But this woman ... He’d watched her walk in with her friend and hadn’t been able to look away.
She was tall with lush curves that made Cam’s hands itch.
Glossy brown hair with a long fringe that fell tantalisingly over her eyes.
Eyes that looked huge. He wanted to know what colour they were. They looked dark.
She had high cheekbones. A straight nose. Finely etched dark brows. And even from a distance he could see her wide, generous mouth. Painted red. Lips full and firm. Godammit. He shifted as his cock twitched in his pants, just at the thought of her taking his erection between those lips.
Who knew he’d have to come to the Emerald Isle to find his mojo again?
As he watched her, she lifted the glass of wine towards him, in a gesture of cheers. Cam, realising he was just sitting there gazing at her like a lovestruck groupie, stood up from the stool and went towards her.