Page 23 of Best Laid Plans
She scratched lightly down the arm he had her bracketed with. When she reached his hand, she pressed hers on top of his, silently asking him to keep touching her. His hand started moving to unclasp the button on her shorts, about to give her what she so desperately needed.
“It smells amazing in here,” her dad’s voice boomed from the front of the restaurant.
Cam stood up straight and removed his hand, and she immediately felt the loss. The heat still licked through her body, and she struggled to come back to planet Earth and accept the moment was over.
They had a few seconds before her dad would be in the kitchen, and she turned quickly then. “That was…”
“A mistake,” Cam finished. His eyes were dark, the seriousness of his words aligned with the hard set of his jaw. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.Ishouldn’t have let that happen.”
Elle didn’t have time to respond before her dad waltzed into the kitchen. She took a step away from Cam, not that it looked like they’d been in the middle of Cam making her come. Fullyclothed and working to return her breathing to normal, her flush could easily be explained by the heat of the kitchen.
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and shot Cam a look, which he refused to acknowledge. Instead, he walked over to the sink and started washing his hands. Which from a cleanliness perspective made all the sense in the world, but she couldn’t ignore the anger that seeped into her bones at how quickly he was moving past what had happened. And that, according to him, wasn’t going to happen again.
She let out a puff of frustrated air. Great, he was back to being a menace to her sanity.
Unsure of what to do with her own hands, which still trembled as she tried to come down from her arousal, she waved awkwardly and pasted on a smile that she hoped was believable. “Hey, dad. Didn’t know you were stopping by today.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CAM
When Cam had arrived in Rock Harbor, he’d set his phone on ‘do not disturb’–given the shitstorm that he’d expected to come his way. Michael hadn’t reached out over the weekend, but by yesterday, the texts had started popping up. Not that he’d seen them. No, he’d waited until twenty minutes ago, stupidly, to look at them.
Nothing like reading his career imploding in real time to douse the flames of want that had idiotically overtaken him.
Michael
Fine that u took the weekend but I’ll expect u on Wednesday as usual. Thx.
Kyle has been covering for u but u need to get your ass back here soon
Bad look man. You’re digging ur own grave.
I don’t know what u think u saw, but ur wrong. I’m not planning to sue but I do need some good faith on yourside. Update pls?
The last one had only come in a few hours ago.
If u aren’t back tomorrow, ur fired.
Well, guess that solved that problem for him. And honestly, what Michael Vittori, piece-of-shit-extraordinaire, thought of Cam was really none of Cam’s business.
He had more pressing problems. Namely, that he didn’t know what version of Elle he was going to get when he returned to the apartment later that night. And that was on him. Was there an equivalent of blue-balling a woman? Because if there was, that’s what he’d done to her, and he probably deserved whatever was coming his way.
If they hadn’t been interrupted, he wouldn’t have stopped unless Elle had told him she didn’t want it. Didn’t wanthim. And based on how things had been going, it seemed unlikely that would have happened. Touching Elle had been addictive, and every expanse of skin his hands traced had only made him want more.
It would have been the time of their lives, and a hell of a lot of drama later.
Elle Pierce was not the type of woman that you fucked in a restaurant kitchen and then went your separate ways. He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that she’d wanted to be that person a few hours ago. For him. And he’d fucking loved it. How well she’d fit against him. The way her ass had pushed against his cock. When she’d wanted him to touch her so badly that she’d tried to press his hand against her.
In another minute, after he’d made her come with his fingers, her shorts would have been down around her ankles and he’d have been buried as many inches deep as she couldtake, fucking her as he licked against the soft expanse of skin at the base of her neck that he’d had a perfect view of from behind.
He shook the thoughts away when he reached the landing. This was the worst possible thing for him to be thinking about right now.
The more he tried to stay away from her, the more he kept being drawn into her orbit. But even if he couldn’t stay away from her, either by intention or design, he could at least not fuck her. That was a long walk off a short pier that he had no interest in taking.
Wyatt would murder him. The Pierces would be disappointed in him. And Elle would realize that he was no good for anyone, and once she figured that out, the curious, interested way that she’d started looking at him would be gone.
He didn’t want that look to be gone yet.
