Page 115 of Story of My Life
“So we’re good then?” Cam prompted.
“Of course. I haven’t given you a second thought since you left my house in gym shorts and a sport coat.” The untruths were piling up.
“Uh-huh. And your research is over,” he prompted.
There was a flutter in my nether regions that I was determined to ignore. “Absolutely. You’re off the hook. Thank you for your service.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Great.” He was irritating me and turning me on at the same time. I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around…my house,” I said.
“Guess so.”
It was time to leave before I did or said anything extra stupid. I spun on my heel and was in the middle of a haughty hair-toss retreat when he grabbed my wrist and whirled me back into him.
It was like careening into a concrete barrier.
“That fucking mouth,” he growled. And then Campbell Bishop was kissing me. Again. But this time we weren’t on a fake date, which was definitely a complication.
As if reading my mind, he took the kiss deeper. His tongue subduing mine with masterful strokes. I couldn’t catch my breath. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I needed to breathe anymore.As long as Cam’s mouth was on mine, I wasn’t concerned with my survival.
We were spinning, and my back met cold metal. He devoured me, tasted me, annihilated me. And then his hands, those big rough hands, started to move possessively. He gripped my butt, hauling me against him until I could feel his arousal.
If he was touching me, I could only assume that I was allowed to do the same. So I shoved a hand between us and cupped his monstrous erection through his jeans. There was alotto grab. I’d written several well-endowed heroes, but Cam was by far the biggest I’d experienced in real life.
He groaned into my mouth, and I felt like the most powerful woman in the world.
One of his hands abandoned my butt cheek and found its way to my breast. When I gasped, he plunged his tongue inside my mouth again as if to taste it.
I gripped him harder through the denim and felt the hypnotic pulse of him in my hand.
“Fuck,” he murmured before hoisting me up one-handed. My legs wrapped around his waist like hungry boa constrictors as his hips and erection pinned me in place.
He rocked into me, and we both groaned. I sank my teeth into his lower lip like I was some kind of talented sex expert. A sexpert. He retaliated by shoving his hand up under my tank top and cupping my breast again. One thin layer of fabric separated his skin from mine. My nipple pebbled against that strong, warm palm, threatening to shred its way through all barriers between it and Cam’s touch.
“This is a bad idea,” I said on a groan. We were in a public place. The entire population of Story Lake was within a hundred yards of our make-out session.
“Horrible. Hate it,” he agreed, attacking my mouth again.
“Damn it. Why are you so good at this?”
“Practice makes perfect,” Cam said before his tongue invaded and made me see stars.
“We should definitely…stop…kissing,” I panted.
“In a minute,” he growled, fitting his lips to mine once again.
It was right about then when I started thinking about clothing removal. It was also right about then that my phone rang from inside my back pocket.
“I hear her ringtone. She’s gotta be around here somewhere.” Zoey’s voice carried to us above the hubbub of the crowd.
“Shit,” Cam muttered. He lowered me to the ground and took a step back while I relearned how to support myself on my own legs.
“I guess that got a little out of hand,” I said weakly.
He had his hands on his hips and was staring at the dirt…or maybe he was eyeing the still-evident erection in his jeans.
