She didn’t get a chance to say yes or no. Suddenly she was in Cam’s arms and, dammit all, it was exactly where she wanted and needed to be.
“As we swayed to the music . . . I fell in love with you . . .”
“Don’t sing to me, Cam,” she insisted, her emotions rocky at best.
“I happen to love this song,” he told her as he dipped her backward, his arms cradling her before he lifted her back up and pulled her in tight. When his fingers slipped downward and massaged the top of her butt, moist heat flowed through her, forcing her to stifle a groan.
As he leaned forward, she had no doubt that was his hardness pressing against her boiling core. She also knew she wanted to damn the consequences and have this man again—even if it was only for a single night.
So being more bold than she’d ever been before, Grace decided to take the romance away from this situation—romance she couldn’t handle, sex she could—and she reached between their bodies and lightly rubbed her fingers across his bulging pants. He went stock-still as she reached up and whispered against his ear.
“Let’s get out of here, Cam.”
Cam immediately looked up, ensuring that no one was paying attention to them, and then the dance stopped as he grabbed her hand and led her from the dance floor, and didn’t quit moving until he found a secluded gazebo about a hundred yards away from the party.
It wasn’t far enough, but at least she could get a small taste, have his lips caress hers in privacy, have something to help relieve the ache inside her before they moved on. Without a word, his hand slid down her side and then moved below the hem of her short dress and began traveling upward until his fingers brushed against her silky panties.
She groaned against his neck as she felt her body respond. It wouldn’t take much to fall over the edge if he continued caressing her the way he was.
“You are so wet already,” he groaned before making her whimper as he pulled away.
“Don’t stop, Cam. Please,” Grace begged him.
“We need to get farther away, Grace,” he cried out as she reached down and grabbed his thickness through the pants. She couldn’t go any farther. She needed him now.
Dropping to her knees, she undid his belt, loving the panting that was escaping his throat as he tried desperately to remain quiet, fearful of them getting caught. That was only adding to her excitement.
Finally, she undid his button and pulled the zipper down, and when she freed him of his tux pants, she was the one panting. So solid. So thick. So hot. When she swept her tongue across his head and tasted the bead of moisture there, she had to squeeze her thighs together, she was so turned on. The pressure was almost too much to bear.
She was barely able to suck him into her mouth before his fingers were grasping her hair and pulling her back.
“Enough,” he growled as he dropped to the ground with her. “I need to be inside you.”
Those words were music to her ears. She fell backward and spread her thighs, needing him to cradle himself between them. He didn’t make her wait.
With a quick tug of his fingers, he ripped her panties away and pushed her dress out of the way before his weight rested on top of her.
“You’re so beautiful, Grace. I wish I could see you better,” he said before his lips began nibbling on hers while his thickness rested against her wet center.
“Please, Cam. I need you,” she whispered.
He didn’t keep her waiting any longer. With a hard thrust of his hips, he sank deep inside, and the pressure of being filled by him after so long without sent her spiraling out of control. Her body squeezed around him as she cried into his mouth, his lips now fully over her own.
He groaned as he moved in and out of her, letting her fully enjoy her orgasm, and then he rested between her thighs. She could almost feel the deep satisfaction oozing off him.
“Ah, baby, you always were so responsive,” he said before he began moving again, building the heat right back up within her.
Tugging on the straps of her dress, Cam freed her breasts while trapping her arms at her sides. She wiggled against him, but it was to no avail. She quit struggling when his head moved down and he captured her aching nipple with his teeth while he continued pumping in and out of her moist folds.
When her second orgasm rushed through her she felt him stiffen against her as his body shook, and together they saw more stars than were in the sky above them.
Neither of them said a word as they lay there together, arms linked, bodies close. Music could be heard quietly reaching out to them, but for this moment Grace was in a haven. However, soon that peacefulness evaporated and she knew she’d made a mistake.
Without a word, she stood, rearranged her clothes, and walked away, not with regret, but with great pain to once again leave this man she couldn’t seem to ever stop loving.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Camden Whitman raked a hand through his hair once again—he looked like a refugee from an ancient punk band—and let out a long-suffering sigh. “It doesn’t matter how many times I go through this file. All arrows point straight to Grace,” he snapped before leaning back in his desk chair and pushing the file away, disgusted with all of it.
“We both know she’s not capable of doing this, so you have to be missing something,” said his father, Martin Whitman, seated comfortably across from him. He didn’t seem worried at all.
“You’ve looked at it, Dad. You tell me what I’m missing.”
“The file turned up on your desk, Cam. I’m not the one who’s supposed to help her,” he said before pausing and throwing his son a smile. “You are.”