Page 29 of Flirt
Finding an empty spot on the dance floor, Cameron wrapped around him, pressing as close as he could get, and rotated his hips. “Mm? Like this? I’m not sure I’m doing it right.”
Fucking flirt.
Lucky for him, Asher had no problem playing dirty. With one arm locked around Cameron’s waist, he slid a leg between Cameron’s thighs and rocked into him. “Just like that.”
Just when he thought he had the upper hand, Cameron pushed away and spun around, lifting his arms up and back to encircle Asher’s neck. Peeking up at him through those long, thick lashes, he began a sensual grind, his lithe body moving like liquid sex, every roll of his hips pushing his tight ass against Asher’s aching cock.
The music pulsed. The atmosphere became electric. Heat poured from the hundreds of bodies packed into the club, but Asher had eyes for just one.
Gripping Cameron’s hips, he jerked him flush against his chest and leaned down to nip at his earlobe. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”
“Is that why I feel so hot?”
The wide eyes and innocent tone cooled some of Asher’s ardor, and he pressed his forehead to Cameron’s temple with a strained chuckle. “I think that’s probably the tequila.”
Cameron made a little humming sound in the back of his throat as he tangled his fingers through Asher’s hair and pulled him into a sloppy, drunken kiss. “Whatever,” he murmured. “Just touch me.”
Jesus, fuck.
He’d heard those words uttered countless times in dozens of ways, but never had they affected him like they did now. Coming from Cameron, “touch me” sounded a whole lot like “fuck me,” and his dick responded with a hard jerk and a valiant attempt to bust through his zipper.
Sliding his hands under the hem of Cameron’s shirt, he groaned when his fingers encountered taut muscles encased in soft, warm skin. His restraint had never been great, not even on his best day, but if Cameron kept moving like that and making those enticing little noises, he wouldn’t be held responsible for his reaction.
When Cameron arched against him and tilted his head back for another kiss, nipping his bottom lip between his teeth, Asher hissed with pleasure. They needed to move this party somewhere private, or they were both going to end up arrested, because he would have Cameron right there, and damn anyone who wanted to watch.
“Home,” he growled, no longer capable of complete or coherent sentences. “Now.”
“Too far,” Cameron complained, but he dropped his arms and let Asher take his hand.
“We can make out like teenagers in the back of the cab.” He said it jokingly, but the minute the words left his mouth, Cameron lit up like a summer sky.
Halfway to the exit, Asher suddenly found his way blocked by none other than the blond gossip blogger who had sent his life into a tailspin. Landon stepped right in front of him and smiled, bold as brass. His expression said he knew—or could at least guess—the violent thoughts sliding through Asher’s mind, and he was taunting him to do something about them.
“Hey,” Cameron yelled, pointing his finger right in the guy’s face. “I know you.”
Landon arched an eyebrow and gave Cameron a pouty grin. “I told you that you’d like it.” His attention snapped to Asher, and his smile kicked up a notch. “Your little show on the dance floor was fucking hot. Now, I’m all worked up with no one to take me home.”
Asher wanted nothing more than to throttle the douchebag, but the last thing he needed was another headline—or a lawsuit. “Fuck. You.”
“Aw, don’t be that way. Everyone has to make a living, right?”
Asher wasn’t about to have the conversation in the middle of the club, but he did have one question. “How did you figure out who I am?”
“It’s amazing the things you can find online, like property tax records. All you have to do is just pop the address into the County Assessor’s website, and bingo.”
“Why would you do that?” Acutely aware of Cameron watching them, Asher purposely kept his questions vague.
Of course, Cameron recognized the guy, and even in his drunken state, he recalled Asher had slept with him. As far as the blog, however, Cameron didn’t seem to know anything about it. He wanted to keep it that for as long as he could.
“Oh, come on. Big house. Big lot. Expensive furniture. Security gate. I knew you had to be someone important.” He gave Asher a cheeky grin. “I was right.”
“Again. Fuck. You.” Unfortunately, there wasn’t shit he could do about it. Best to just keep walking before he ended up doing something both he and his agent would regret.
“Asher? What’s he talking about? Why is he looking up your property taxes?”
Shit.
Nudging the blogger aside, Asher grabbed Cameron by the wrist and practically dragged him toward the exit. “I’ll tell you later.”
