Page 78 of The Saint

“You’re gorgeous. How could I resist?”

God, could she stop blushing? His dark eyes burned as hot as she felt. Camden rolled the football between his hands then tossed it aside. “Amelia, come here.”

His voice rolled over her skin like the silk ties hidden in the box might. She shivered and moved to his side. Camden took her hand and tugged her gently onto his lap. “If you don’t want to, all you have to say is no.”

“I know.”

Camden brushed her hair off her shoulder and, with the tips of two fingers, gently touched her chin and directed hertoward his face. His eyes warmed her insides. “You’re in control of everything. Dealing with Beth. Searching for your sister. Sleeping with me.”

Her heartbeat rushed. “I know—”

His finger caressed her bottom lip. “You’re in complete control.”

But she didn’t control the erratic drive of her heart, nor the way her insides came to life when he barely touched her. Existing in the same space as him was an aphrodisiac. Amelia let her eyes slip shut. His fingers drifted down. Breathing became a chore. Her lips parted with a gasping exhalation, and pinpricks of shivers cascaded across her neck as he caressed her sensitive skin with fingertips down, down, down her neck—and pulling away.

“Anytime you want to stop, sweetheart, you tell me. It’s that simple. Do you understand?”

Yeah, she understood. Would he get back to business? She didn’t want to think about anything other than the way he made her come alive.

“Tell me with your words.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “I promise.” Could he please touch her again?

Camden inched back. The space between them grew as quickly as her desperation. But he melted her with that trademark smoldering gaze, reached for her, and pulled her down until they lay on the couch, face-to-face.

Amelia was a perfect fit against his body, as though they’d been sculpted to cradle one another. His hand rested on her hip. Her leg rested on top of his. His palm explored from her hip to her thigh, massaging and stroking the back of her leg. His lips took hers and nipped the bottom one. Shooting stars of need blazed a path through her insides. She wanted his teasing kissall over her body just like the night before. She pressed herself closer. He kissed along her jaw and nuzzled against her neck.

“If you could do this,” she whispered, “until I forget everything, that would be amazing.”

His smile curved against her skin. Camden skirted his hand under the hem of her shirt. Goose bumps jumped, and a moan caught in her throat.

“Cam, the way you touch me…”So good. So right.He was so everything without trying to be.

Only in that moment did she realize that in the past, she’d cued up a mental list of to-dos while in bed that went something like “First kiss. Then touch. Neck kiss. Throat kiss. Chest touch. Remove clothes. Get to the good stuff. Be done with it all.” That wasn’t the case anymore. His hypnotic ability slowed her mind to everything except them.

His touch feathered over her breast. Heat followed in its wake, a tingling awareness blooming under his fingertips. Her nipple beaded and pressed against his hand. A soft gasp escaped her lips, her back arching instinctively, seeking more. She squirmed. Her skin prickled, hyperaware of every nerve ending as need coiled low in her belly. Her pulse quickened, racing faster as he sinfully played.

“Lift up,” he said.

He pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it off the couch. Goose bumps erupted along her arms, the sudden rush of cool air contrasting sharply with the heat pooling inside her. He unfastened the button at her waist and eased the zipper down. Each slow, deliberate movement sent little shocks of anticipation skittering along her spine. He removed her pants as easily as the shirt. The thick length of his erection was pressed between them. Amelia reached for the button of his jeans.

“Not yet.” He picked up the box on the coffee table.

The ache of denial throbbed between her thighs, frustration twisting in her stomach. Anticipation stole her breath. Amelia watched him open the box and remove the mask. Her throat tightened, a delicious tension coiling in her chest. Her pulse raced. A mix of excitement and hesitation warred within her, making her fingers twitch where they lay against the couch.

Camden laid the mask just above her head. Out of sight but not out of mind. The weight of the silky mask with its ties, the meaning of complete vulnerability, sent a tremble down her arms and legs. Her muscles shivered. Shyness begged her to retreat, but the molten need coursing through her veins secured Amelia next to Camden.

Awareness pounded in her pulse points and ignited an arousal so deep that it clouded her mind. Yet it also sharpened her responsiveness—every breath, every brush of his skin against hers, every unspoken promise popped in the space between them. She anticipated Camden’s next move. As if the oxygen was slowly siphoned from the room, her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths, edging to the precipice of whatever came next.

Camden’s hand froze on her stomach. “On second thought, we should go upstairs.”

No, no, no.She didn’t want to move. “Or we can stay right here.”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I need more room to play.”

Her stomach leaped into her throat. He boxed the mask and swept her into his arms.

“Cam—” Amelia laughed.

---