Page 84 of Melt for You (Slow Burn 2)
He looks so crestfallen I feel guilty. So I hurry over to him and kiss him on the cheek before I can change my mind. When I pull away, he grabs my wrist and pulls me against his chest. Into my ear he says, “I want to talk more. Can I call you later?”
His warm breath fanning down my neck makes my eyes cross. I mumble a yes and ask if he has a pen so I can write down my number.
“That’s not necessary. I already have it.”
I frown, looking up at him. “You do?”
He smiles gently at me, still holding on to my wrist like it’s a leash. “Well, technically I have all my employees’ phone numbers.”
“Oh. Right.” I produce a nervous little laugh. “Of course you do.”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and his smile fades. He leans forward to kiss me, but I turn my face so his lips graze my cheek. His husky chuckle sends a tingle up my spine.
“Okay. I get it. We’re giving me time to adjust.” He grips my other wrist, pulls me even closer, and bends his head to my neck. He inhales against my skin, his lips skimming the sensitive spot just under my ear.
He whispers, “I hope it won’t take too long.” He presses the softest of kisses to the pulse pounding in my throat, then releases me so abruptly I stumble back.
His eyes are electric. They sear the space between us so it seems like the air itself will ignite.
Without a word, I turn around and run.
I’m pacing my living room rug when the knock comes on my door. “It’s open,” I call, already knowing who it is.
I could pick Cameron McGregor’s knock out of a police lineup of knocks. Like the man himself, it’s very distinctive.
He comes inside with his usual swagger, asking where his dinner is, but stops dead when he sees my face. His brows draw together. “Were you on the phone with your mum again?”
“I went for drinks with Michael. He tried to kiss me. Twice.”
Cam stands there for a moment, watching me pace. “Tried?”
I nod, chewing on my thumbnail, and turn around and pace the other direction.
Cam slowly closes the door, moves around me, and sits on the sofa. But he doesn’t prop his feet up on the coffee table like usual. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, watching me walk. There’s a tenseness in the way he holds himself, a coiled readiness, as if at any moment he might spring to his feet. His eyes are like a hawk’s.
“You wanna tell me what happened?”
I tell him everything, from our sprint around the office hallways in the morning through the shortest, strangest date in the history of dating. When I’m finished, Cam is silent.
“What do you think?”
He slowly leans back, spreads his hands over his thighs, and exhales a breath through his nose. “I think it was smart.”
I stop pacing and look at him. “Smart? Which part?”
“The whole thing. It was well played. Delay will only make him want you more.”
“Cam, I wasn’t playing him!”
He cocks his head, inspecting my face. “So you didn’t want to kiss him?”
He sounds disbelieving, which pisses me off. “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t a game to me!”
“Don’t dodge the question.”
I growl in annoyance, tear the elastic out of the bun in my hair, and pace back the way I came. “It just didn’t feel right. The whole thing was weird. Like, sudden.”
Cam’s voice is dry. “You’ve been lustin’ after the man for a decade, lass. That’s hardly sudden.”
