Page 42 of That Night in Texas

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Vivi thought she heard Cam murmur “exactly,” but that didn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t he want to live in a house that reflected who and what he was? His house should be filled with bold colors, interesting pieces of art, tactile accessories. Cam McNeal was anything but bland.

But how Cam decorated his house had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t staying. In a few days—the authorities were asking residents to stay away for another week but Vivi was convinced they were being overly dramatic—she’d be back at her house, among her things, things that reflected her personality.

“The point is—”

Cam lifted a “hang on” finger when his phone rang. He picked up the device and after a couple of “yups” and a “that’s fine” and a “look after yourself,” placed the phone back on the table. “Sally isn’t coming in today. She has a bad case of flu and she feels awful.”

Oh...

Oh!

That meant that she and Cam were alone in the house. Wanting to keep Clem’s routine as normal as possible she’d sent her to day care and, as a result there was no Clem to interrupt them or Sally to consider. Totally, utterly alone. Vivi knew the moment Cam realized the same thing, because his eyes deepened and focused on her mouth. His blatantly hungry stare sent a river of lust down her spine, pooling heat between her legs. She knew that if she moved, gave him the smallest sign of encouragement, they both could be naked and screaming in a heartbeat.

She really wanted to get naked. She might not scream but she’d definitely moan.

“Camden.”

It was one word, small but potent, and he heard her unspoken demand. Come over here and kiss me.

Cam released a low growl and Vivi watched, fascinated, as he rocketed to his feet, the fast movement causing his kitchen chair to topple over. By the time the chair hit the floor, she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers, his tongue sliding past her teeth to take possession of her mouth. He tasted like strawberry jam and coffee, sweet and hot, and those sparks he mentioned morphed into a dozen fireballs.

Wanting to get closer, Vivi pushed her breasts into his hard chest, curling into his heat. She wanted more, needed to see him, taste him, have access to those gorgeous muscles. Vivi lifted her hands and attacked the buttons on his shirt, silently cursing when the buttons refused to cooperate. Cam solved that problem by pushing his hands between them, the backs of his hands scraping over her nipples. He gripped the sides of his shirt and ripped it apart. Buttons scattered and Vivi quickly pushed his shirt off his shoulders, down his arms. She needed to feel his skin, his heat. Standing on her toes, she pushed her mouth against his, wanting a harder kiss, and Cam obliged.

He tilted her head by holding the back of her head while his other hand pulled her T-shirt up her back, allowing cool air to touch her back. He was only her second lover, and this was only the third time she was doing this, but she didn’t feel self-conscious or shy. How could she when Cam interrupted his kisses with compliments, telling her how hot she was, what he intended to do to her? She was inexperienced but that didn’t matter. Cam was in control.

Right now, in this instance, she let him be.

Vivi muttered her displeasure when he pulled his mouth off hers so that he could do away with her shirt, but a second later his hands covered her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples and his mouth trailing down the side of her neck.

Cam kissed her, finding all those long-neglected places craving his touch and a few that she didn’t know existed before this moment. She was fire and heat and need and want, a pulsing field of energy that started and began with him. If she wasn’t so desperate for this to end in a big bang, Vivi would’ve been worried about how precisely in tune with each other they were.

They were ice and cream, milk and honey, matches and gas-soaked kindling. They worked, somehow bigger and better than before.

Vivi sucked in a breath as Cam pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking her through her bra. Frustrated by the barrier, she reached behind her to unhook her bra and pulled the fabric down her arms, her breath catching at Cam’s now blue-black eyes.

If the massive erection tenting his cargo shorts wasn’t a clue, then his dark eyes would’ve been. He wanted her. Right here and right now. And having such a man—strong, virile, so experienced—desire her made her feel powerful and intensely feminine.


Tags: Joss Wood Billionaire Romance