Spending time with him made her realize he was fragile. And most definitely not perfect. She loved all those imperfections. He was too impulsive, a bit rash, could lash out for no reason other than he felt attacked. Stubborn too, and not necessarily open with his feelings, which left her confused more often than not.
Then there were all those good things. His protectiveness, his wry humor, how sweetly romantic he really was, though he’d never admit it and she wouldn’t call him out on it, either. Let him think he was a macho, pushy man—which he could be, too. She’d never disagree with that assessment.
But she knew the truth. Cameron McKenzie was a softie when it came to her. How she loved that about him.
More than anything, she loved him.
She trailed her fingers down the center of his chest, his stomach, until they landed on the waistband of his jeans. She curled her hand around the soft denim, her knuckles brushing against his stomach, and she felt him shiver at the seemingly innocent touch.
It wasn’t innocent, though. She knew exactly what she was doing. With nimble fingers, she undid the button, slid down the zipper. He broke their kiss, his breathing frantic, his eyes blazing with unrestrained heat. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”
Chloe frowned. She’d kinda hoped they would get a little carried away on the kitchen counter, but he had a point. Her bed was much more comfortable. “Carry me there,” she murmured, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly. “Hurry.”
He swooped her into his arms, his big hands cradling her backside as he walked through her tiny house with determined strides. She pressed her face against his strong neck, breathing in his masculine scent, and she closed her eyes against the tears that threatened.
She didn’t want him to go, had no right to ask him to stay. This was his career he was leaving for. It was important to him. She wasn’t about to become one of those demanding women who made ultimatums. That sort of behavior didn’t work on Cam.
So she would do her best to be agreeable but not a pushover. Supportive but not clingy. It would be the hardest challenge she’d ever face. But she knew Cam was worth it.
The two of them together were worth it.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, relaxing his hold on her, and she slid down his body slowly, savoring the hard, delicious feel of him. With a smile, she pushed him so he went sprawling onto the bed. All big and muscly as he lay there with a shocked smile on his face, his jeans undone, revealing a hint of his lower belly, his feet bare, since he’d just kicked off his shoes.
“Planning to have your way with me?” He spread out his arms like some sort of offering and a shiver moved through her.
“If you’ll let me.” She slowly approached, crawling onto the bed, crawling over him so she could straddle his hips, rest her hands on his hard chest.
His eyes glowed with a sincerity that almost frightened her. “I’ll let you do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”
Only for the next few hours. She pushed the distressing thought from her mind and concentrated on the here and now. Bending over him, she put her face up to his, memorizing those handsome features that were so dear to her. His hot green gaze burned into her and he lifted his hips subtly, letting her know how much he wanted her.
He gripped her by the waist, his hands sliding the hem of her camisole up, and she glanced nervously at the lamp. Pausing, he followed her gaze and shook his head. “No way am I turning that off.”
Now who was the mind reader? “But…” She felt self-conscious. Vulnerable. This was her last night with him. And yes, she appreciated admiring his body as much as he might appreciate hers, but she felt too raw tonight.
What if this was it for them? He said he wanted to come back for her but what if…
What if he forgot all about her while he was gone?
“I want to see you.” With a strength that startled her, he flipped her over so she was the one on her back. “I want my last memory of you before I leave looking like this. Naked and flushed in the middle of your bed just before I—”
“Cam.” Her cheeks caught on fire.
“Shhh.” He linked their hands together, held them above her head so she was stretched out for him. “No complaints, no embarrassment. Let me enjoy you. Let me make this good for you.”
She melted when he kissed her, her insides turning to liquid. The gentle way he touched her, the reverent glow in his eyes when he studied her as he stripped her of her clothing. He skimmed her with his fingers, kissed her with that decadent mouth everywhere, all over, and when they finally made that connection she so desperately needed, she squeezed her eyes shut to stop the flow of tears that threatened.
He noticed and paused. Touched her cheek so that she had no choice but to open her eyes and meet his gaze, her vision blurred by the gathering tears. “Chloe.” His voice came out as a raspy plea. “Don’t cry.”
She sniffed, the tears falling anyway, streaking down her cheeks. “Sorry,” she croaked, feeling silly and small and incredibly foolish.
He frowned, his brows furrowed in what looked like pain. With infinite tenderness, he kissed her tears away, which only made her cry harder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not hurting me.” She shook her head, her hair rustling against the pillow.
“My leaving is hurting you,” he countered and she didn’t answer.
Couldn’t when he spoke the truth.