Chapter 7
SEVEN
LATER THAT DAY, sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table in Cam’s living room, she was updating her schedule when he came up from downstairs.
“Hey,” he said, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I thought you left hours ago.”
“I meant to,” she said, squeezing her bare foot. “I got a call and—”
“You know you only have to answer during office hours.”
“I know,” she said. “I don’t mind.”
“No date tonight?” he asked, crossing to the kitchen. “You haven’t been as excited about your wild phase this week.”
No, she hadn’t been on a date since the previous Friday. Her experience with Nathaniel had soured the process a little… a lot.
“I made a slight change to the criteria.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, holding a bottle of red wine. “You want a drink?”
“Yes, but I have to get home later.”
“It’s the weekend, relax.”
“It’s Thursday, which isn’t the weekend. I have to be back here tomorrow.”
“You know there are rooms upstairs,” he said, opening the wine. Casting her suspicious eyes his way, she levered herself up onto the couch. “My room’s in the loft.”
“The revered third floor. Could be where you keep your crazy, secret wife.”
“I’m not inviting you to my bed.”
“Yeah, ‘cause being in your bed would be so much fun. I would never come to your bed because I’ll never come in your bed.”
“Who says?” he asked. “You can have fun without going all the way.”
“Fun? What like stimulating conversation?” Stretching her legs along the couch, she took the clasp from her hair and dropped it onto the end table behind her. “Have you had a woman in your bed since your decision to abstain?”
“Maybe,” he said, coming over with two wineglasses.
She lifted her legs to let him sit and shimmied back to rest her shoulder blades against the arm of the couch.
“Do they know?” She accepted the proffered wine. “Did you tell them like you did me? Just blurt it out?”
“You took it surprisingly well for a wild woman.”
“Man, just imagine it,” she murmured, doing just that. “Imagine going out with a guy like you, thinking about something-something and… God, you’re a heartbreaker, a pussy-breaker even without the sex! Do they cry? Honestly cry? I picture them crying.”
“You’re obsessed with my sex life.”
“Or lack of it,” she grumbled from the corner of her mouth.
“You’re the one striking out date after date.”
“Let’s be clear, Unicorn…” She pushed a little of her weight to her elbow. “Every one of those guys wanted it.”
He smirked. “Sure they did.”
“Most men would quite happily take advantage of me if given the option. I just happen to not be handing out options.”
His tongue salved some of his smolder. “Fill me in—”
“‘Cause you won’t be filling anything any time soon?”
“Candy, you’re killing me,” he said on a laugh. “What’s your change in criteria?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, sipping her wine.
“Don’t get shy on me now, Candy.”
“I’m not shy,” she said, curling her arm against the back of the couch to support her head. “I just don’t want to whine at you about guys.”
“Why not? I can give you a different perspective.”
“Yeah, but you’re not my girlfriend. Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“No,” he said, his lips twisting. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”
“You’re my boss,” she said, cradling her glass to her chest.
“I don’t want to be in that box either,” he said. “Give me options.” Those kind of options? She’d give him those all day long. Mmm, if only. Oh, they danced this line like pros. “What’s my next choice?”
She sighed. “Are you happy?”
“For the most part,” he said.
“Dates are tough. I’m learning I’m not good at dating. That part where you have to get to know a person.”
“It’s because you don’t talk about yourself.”
She lifted her head. “I talk about myself.”
“No, you don’t,” he said on a snicker. “We met three weeks ago. We spend hours here talking about work, current events, politics, the guys, the house… But I don’t know if you have siblings. If your parents are still alive. I don’t know where you grew up—”
“Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t if you don’t want to build trust,” he said.
“I don’t need trust to be casual with someone.”
“If that’s all you want, go on HudHAD.” The dating app. “Guys will line up outside your apartment. Cocks at the ready. Delivered direct to your door.”
“I have to pick guys I spark with. That’s my change in criteria. I will only fool around with guys I have chemistry with,” she said, sitting up straighter to swallow some more wine. “I have to suss that out before I agree to a date.”
“Start trawling bars.”
“Want to go to a bar with me?”
“If you show up with a guy, they’ll think you’re looking for a third. We ever want a third? We don’t have to trawl, I’ll call Noble… or Rox.”
She smiled. “Or you’re gay.”
“And we’re both looking for a lay? Possible.”
They sat enjoying their wine until she asked, “You want me to plan a party?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, people keep telling me you’re a party God, so I figured I’d ask.”
“I’m no party God, Candy. People like to congregate near me sometimes is all.”
Her boss mentioned it too. “Do you want me to plan a party?”
“Ask the guys when they get here and they’ll bite your hand off.”
“Why did you stop?” she asked. “Were you only having parties to trawl for babes? No sex means no point?”
“I haven’t been motivated to deal with it and my assistants never stuck.”
“Now you have me,” she said, twisting to plant her feet on the floor and surge up to head for the kitchen. “I’ll plan an incredible party. Do you have them here?”
“Usually,” he said. “We have a company that comes in and puts anything of value in storage. The gym is emptied. Temporary flooring put down inside and out back.”
“Over your glass roof?” she said, uncorking the waiting bottle to refill her glass. “I’m surprised you let people downstairs.”
“It’s all about numbers. We can get a hundred, hundred and fifty people down there if it’s cleared out. We hire security too, they guard my office all night. No one goes in there.”
“Obviously.”
“Ozzie can give you the info. Music we do downstairs, some out back, but we don’t like to upset the neighbors. We hire servers, caterers, the full deal.”
“What about upstairs?” she asked, drinking more wine.
“No, that’s roped off and we have security there too. I do not want anyone getting busy in my beds… even the guest beds.”
“If you’re not having fun,” she teased. “No one else is.”
He got up to come toward the kitchen. “You keep accusing me of that.”
She rounded the island to meet him just before he could step up the single stair to the slightly higher kitchen.
“Maybe a party’s a good idea,” she said, reaching back to put her glass on the corner of the island. “Maybe I could find someone to be wild with at your soirée.”
“You’re not invited,” he said to which she frowned. “Either that or I don’t invite any men.”
“Why wouldn’t you—”
“Don’t ask me to watch you flirting with other guys, Candy.”
“I flirt with your friends all the time.”
“Yeah, but they know…”
Her head relaxed as he trailed off. Still a few inches shorter than him, they weren’t quite eye to eye, but they were close. Closer than they’d been before. Than they should be as boss and employee.
“Know what?” she asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. “That I’m wild and free?”
He exhaled as his hands slid onto her hips, burning entitlement into her with his strengthening grip. She forgot breathing, forgot protecting her heart, forgot she shouldn’t reveal too much.
“This is…”
“What?” she asked, her words ragged.
“I have to know, Candy. Forgive me, I have to know.”
Before she could ask, his hand rose to cradle the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his.
Oh shit. The first sensation was a kind of dread mixed with delirious exhilaration.
That pressure. The demand. It grew from within, propelling her into the slick mix of tasting lips and teasing tongues.
Cam.
His kiss.
Lost, instinct was her only guide. Though it spurred her on, she pushed back, parting their mouths.
His hand stayed on her head, looser, giving her space to look into his eyes. It was Cam. Why was she so stunned? They sparked. They had chemistry. And fuckity-fuck, he didn’t disappoint.
She couldn’t remember saying his name, but it leaped to her ears in sync with the cascading compulsion for more.
Grabbing his head, she breathed in, forcing their mouths together again.
There was relief in the way he angled her as her arms coiled around him.
Whatever she sought, whatever she needed, it became irrelevant.
The deep press of his need overwhelmed her with its sheer potency.
She needed this. Needed to pull him close, to push back against his tongue, to sink into the half embrace of the arm hooked around her waist, giving him complete control of her and—
She didn’t hear it immediately. The kiss broke and she stalled. That was when she heard the rise of voices.
“No,” Ozzie was saying while someone laughed. “Move out the fucking way.”
Cam was already in the kitchen. Where was she? What was…
“Hey, Elle, tell Ozzie he’s hot,” Noble said.
“What?” she asked, backing up to retrieve her wine.
The hiss of an opening beer bottle behind her signaled Cam’s position.
“Oz thinks he’s not hot enough to get dates.”
“Aww,” she said, touching Ozzie’s face when he sat down. “You’re so cute.” Cam handed out beers as his friends settled around the island. “I believe in you. And there’s hope…”
“Want to go out with me?” Ozzie asked.
If he was joking, he was relaxing. Noble loved to screw around, Ozzie should know better than to let it affect him.
“We’re going to have a party,” she said, sliding an arm across his shoulders, leaning against him.
Ozzie and Noble made sounds of agreement and began to make plans, pulling Dalton into the conversation too.
Her eyes met Cam’s across the island. Even as he tipped beer into his mouth, he watched her.
When she licked her lips, his eyes flared, his beer dropped an inch… ah, the ache. Need clenched in her belly. Excitement aroused her most intimate corner. Men she sparked with…
From the moment they’d met, it had been there. Camden Collier was the embodiment of spark. The personification of chemistry.
“Elle?” Ozzie asked.
Oh, was he talking to her? Focus. Dalton and Noble were leaving their stools.
“Steaks,” Noble said. “Grill. Come on.”
As they disappeared outside, she went around the island, past Cam, to retrieve the meat. The cool fridge air flooded her, though it didn’t cool her down. As her hand touched the steaks, his met her waist.
“You win,” Cam murmured above her ear. “Now I won’t look at your mouth without thinking about my cock.”
Her lips curled as he squeezed then walked away. He wouldn’t look at her mouth without…? Mouth be damned, she’d be thinking about it every minute. For the first time, wild was working out for her. Did it have to be so unsatisfying?