Chapter 7 #2
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Cam stared at Saskia’s back. He let his gaze run over her in that maddening red dress. It wasn’t tight, but kind of draped over her slender body. It left a lot of sleek leg bare.
“Here, looks like you need this.” Hunt shoved a beer into Cam’s hand.
His fingers curled on the cool glass. Saskia was standing at the bar, her hair loose, black against the red. A stunning combination.
He couldn’t get her out of his damn mind. In the office today, he’d alternated between being worried about the fact Mikhailov was still in the area, and tormented by thoughts of Saskia.
You did the right thing, asshole.
He had to forcibly loosen his fingers before he broke the beer bottle.
“For a man who says he doesn’t want a woman, you’re looking at Saskia like you want to devour her,” Hunt said. “Or drag her back to your cave and not let her go.”
Cam dragged his gaze off Saskia and met Hunt’s serious green eyes.
“I want her more than anything. She’s gorgeous, sweet, talented.” He shook his head. “That isn’t the problem.”
Hunt’s brow creased. “Cam—”
“Please. I…can’t talk about it.” He was just going to have one beer and go.
His brother sighed and nodded. “I’m here for you.”
He gave him a tight nod. “I know.”
Cam made himself say hi to Gia. He saw Savannah watching him steadily, and wondered what Saskia had told her.
Saskia still hadn’t returned, and he couldn’t help looking for her. She was still at the bar. His body locked. She wasn’t alone. A square-jawed business type in a sharp suit and over-styled hair was talking to her.
She smiled at the man, talking back.
The guy laughed and couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Cam was moving before he could think. He stepped up behind her and pressed his front to her back. It reminded him of how well she fit against him.
She stiffened, her fingers clenching on the bar.
“How are those drinks going? The ladies are thirsty.” He sent the man a hard look.
The guy’s flirty smile vanished. “Have a nice night.” He disappeared back into the crowd.
“I didn’t need a rescue.” Saskia didn’t look up at him.
Cam looked down at her silky hair. She was wearing a perfume that tickled his senses. It wasn’t her usual scent—he had that memorized. She must have borrowed something from Savannah, but there was pure Saskia in the undertone.
He leaned down, pressed his face to her hair, and breathed her in. He slid an arm around her, spreading his palm over her belly.
She made a sound and leaned into him.
God, he wanted her so badly.
“Cam, why are you doing this?” she whispered shakily.
He nuzzled the side of her neck. “Because I can’t stay away.”
Her chest hitched and she gripped his forearm. She shifted against him, rubbing her ass against his hardening cock.
Then she made a choked sound. “This…isn’t fair. It’s not fair to either of us.”
Fuck . He went still. She was right. He’d sent her away, told himself to keep clear, and here he was, touching her, scaring off a guy flirting with her.
His fingers flexed on her flat belly, then he pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t look at him. “I know.” Her voice was husky. Her fingers dug into his arm, then dropped away.
He stayed there for a second, pressed against her, absorbing her. The air between them felt charged.
It hurt to step back.
He didn’t say anything. He just turned and strode out of the party. He didn’t say goodbye to anyone.
He hadn’t cooled off by the time he leaped into the X6. He drove back to his apartment on autopilot.
When he slammed into his place, he didn’t turn on the lights. The city lights filtered in through the windows, dancing on the ceiling.
He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his jacket angrily. His skin was tight, hot. His gut was in knots.
He smelled her. His hands flexed. He could feel her under his fingers.
Desire for Saskia gnawed at him.
In the kitchen, he yanked open a cupboard. He pulled out a bottle of Old Forester 1920 bourbon. Kris had loved the stuff. Cam poured a shot and knocked it back. Then he poured another.
He turned. He’d kissed Saskia, right here, while she sat on the bench.
Since he’d woken up after the blast, he’d been dead inside. Hadn’t been attracted to any woman. Had felt cold inside.
Until he’d seen her.
Now, he was alive, hungry, and he only wanted her.
He closed his eyes and saw her there. Pussy bare under his T-shirt, body writhing, saying his name as he’d stroked her.
Fuck . His cock felt as hard as pure steel.
He was on fire, burning up. All from thinking about Saskia. Saskia in that red dress, here on his kitchen counter, him with his fingers on her sweet clit.
With a muttered oath, he opened his trousers and shoved his boxers down. He freed his aching cock.
Cam wrapped a hand around himself, then tugged. He tugged again, stroking hard.
He imagined her here. Her naked body his for the taking, brown eyes watching him with need and heat, making him feel like he was worth a damn.
He stroked harder, his cock swelling. He wanted to be plowing inside her, hearing her cries, spilling inside her tight warmth.
“Fuck me.” On another hard tug, he came. His body bowed under the force of his release. He groaned her name as he spilled all over his hand and the floor.
He shuddered, and gripped the counter, his lungs heaving.
His hot skin cooled. There was no Saskia.
He was alone in his empty apartment.
It was how it had to be. His chin dropped to his chest. However much he wished things were different, Saskia was better off without him.