“Today went well,” Trevor says. “Mia, you’re amazing in front of the camera.”
“You’re delusional,” she says with a grin. I can still see the hurt and embarrassment in her eyes, but she’s shaken the hostess off and put on a brave face. “But I’ll take all of the compliments.”
“You really are great,” I reply. “You’re great at explaining what you’re doing, and why you’re doing it. That’s the hardest part. I’m so used to cooking, and so much of it is habit, that I really had to practice describing the steps. I can’t tell you how many meals I cooked at home, talking out loud when no one was there.”
“I talk out loud when no one is there all the time,” Riley says with a laugh. “Here comes the waitress. I’m warning you all, I’m ordering all of the happy hour food as well as drinks. I’m starving.”
“Oh good,” Mia says with a smile. “Me too. Let’s order the whole happy hour menu, it’s only five things, and share them.”
“That’s perfect. And we can order more if the portions are small,” Riley says with a nod. “Are you guys okay with that?”
“No complaints from me,” Trevor says and I nod in agreement. After the waitress leaves with our food and drinks order, Mia lets her hair down from the messy bun and sighs.
“How are you doing?” Riley asks her.
“I’m great.”
I take her hand in mine, linking our fingers. She glances over at me, but she doesn’t pull her hand away, so I consider that a win.
“You’re letting him hold your hand,” Riley says. “Is your hand numb, and you just don’t feel it, or are you two a thing?”
“Neither. I’m not numb,” Mia murmurs. “I let people touch me sometimes.”
“Right.” Riley nods. “Like when you’re unconscious. Or when you go to the doctor and they take your temperature.”
“Shut up,” Mia says with a laugh. “I let Landon hug me the other night. Not a regular one-armed pat of a hug either. He hugged me against him for like a minute. And I wiped my nose on him.”
“Of course you did,” Riley says, laughing. She turns to Trevor. “Mia’s notorious for not liking to be touched. It’s not a trauma thing, she’s just not touchy-feely.”
I know that Mia has said that she doesn’t love to be touched, but that doesn’t describe the Mia I knew years ago at all. She was incredibly affectionate. We snuggled a lot on the couch while watching movies, and she loved to cuddle up to me in bed.
“It’s not like I’ll stab someone for touching me,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “I just prefer to not be. It’s not a big deal.”
“Except, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone hold your hand.”
“Shut up, Riley.”
“Sorry.” But she doesn’t look sorry in the least as she grins at Mia. “Not sorry.”
Two hours, and three rounds of drinks and food, later, Mia checks the time. “Wow, we’ve been here for a while.”
“Time flies when you’re celebrating,” Riley says.
I’ve had my hand on Mia for the past two hours straight. Whether holding her hand or resting on her thigh, I’ve made sure to touch her. I want her to get used to my touch.
Because I plan on a lot of physical contact later.
“We should go,” Trevor says. Mia stands and stretches, reaching high above her. Her shirt rides up, just barely giving me a glimpse of the soft, white skin beneath.
I want to rip that shirt off of her and touch her everywhere.
“Are you going back to the restaurant?” I ask her as we push our chairs in and make our way out of the bar.
“Nope.” She smiles proudly and tosses me a flirty wink. “I’m going to turn over a new leaf and take the night off.”
“Wait. Are you sick?” Riley touches Mia’s forehead, but Mia just chuckles.
“I’m not sick. I’m trying to curb my need to control everything there. This is a baby step.”
“Atta girl,” Riley replies. “Have a good night, you guys.”
Trevor and Riley walk away, leaving Mia and me standing in front of the bar. I shove my hands in my pockets and wait for her to say something.
“Do you have plans this evening with your sister?” she asks, staring just past me down the sidewalk, not meeting my gaze.
“Steph and Chip left this morning,” I reply. “I don’t have any plans.”
She nods and shuffles her feet. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m curbing my control-freak tendencies this evening.”
“I did hear something about that,” I say and step toward her. “You should probably be supervised. Just to make sure that you don’t give in and rush back to your kitchen.”
She nods slowly. “That would probably be a good idea. I mean, I can’t be expected to be reformed in a day. That’s just ridiculous.”
“What would you like to do, Mia?”
She smiles up at me and reaches for my hand. “I’d like to bake brownies and drink decaf coffee on my back porch.”
Before or after I make you forget your name?
“Let’s do it.”
I follow her to her house and park behind her in the driveway. She waits for me as I climb out of my car and join her on the porch.
“Are we baking brownies from scratch?” I ask as she unlocks her door and I follow her inside.
“No, that takes too long,” she replies. “I have a good box mix. I’ll add a few extra things to it.”
“Brownies take an hour to bake,” I remind her.
“Yep.”
“What are we going to do for an hour?”
“Get naked,” she replies with a shrug. “And then we will have fresh brownies. I mean, is there a better post-coital snack than brownies?”
I stop and stare at her, watching as she grins and pulls the ingredients for the chocolate dessert out of cupboards and the fridge. I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of her as she stirs the batter. When she glances at me, I snap another one, happy to capture the bright smile she gives me.
“Are you taking photos of me?”
“I want visual proof that you actually bake.”
She laughs and pours the batter into a pan. “I told you, I can bake with the best of them. I do all of the baking at Seduction.”
“I’m impressed,” I reply after she shuts the oven door and sets the timer.
One hour.
Her eyes look less certain now that the task of getting the brownies ready to bake is over, and I’m slowly advancing on her here in her kitchen.
She’s not moving away.
“Mia.”
She looks up, and when I glide my hands down her sides and around to her ass, then lift her onto the countertop, she simply bites her lip and watches me with wide, curious blue eyes.
“Are you sure you want this?” I whisper. I’ve caged her in, my hands are flat on the countertop next to her hips. Her legs are spread, and I’m pressed against her. I drag my nose down hers and then nibble lightly on her lips. “Mia.”
“Hmm.”
“I asked a question.”
“I invited you here.”
“That wasn’t the question,” I reply and kiss her chin and up her jawline to her ear. “I want you to tell me, with words, that you want me, Mia. I want to strip you out of these clothes and touch every inch of this amazing body.”
She bites her lip again and I see a brief moment of uncertainty pass through her eyes.
“You have to talk to me, baby.”
“I don’t really look like I did ten years ago.”
“None of us do.”
She shakes her head and leans back so she can look me in the eyes. “I’ve gained weight, Camden, and it makes me uncomfortable.”
“I have always loved every curve on your body. I hate that you have insecurities, but I’m telling you right now, you don’t have to feel uncomfortable with me. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. We don’t even have to get all the way naked, but I admit, that wou
ld make me pout.”
She grins slowly. “I wouldn’t want you to pout.”
“No, it’s not attractive at all. But all kidding aside, tonight is all about you. I’m here because you invited me, and because I want to spend the evening with you. I want you, Mia. I won’t lie and say I don’t. But I’m a patient man.”
“That’s new,” she says with a raised eyebrow. She leans forward and presses a kiss over my sternum, through my shirt. “You may be patient. But I’m not.”
“No?”
“No.”
Her hair is down. It’s longer than I’ve ever seen on her, and it’s absolutely sexy as hell. Her neck is smooth, the skin there so fucking soft. She gathers my shirt in her fists and pulls up so she can glide her hands on my bare skin.
“If you keep doing that, the patience will fly out of the window.”
She smiles and tilts her head to the side, giving me all the invitation I need. I press the tip of my tongue against the softest skin right below her ear and drag it down to her collarbone. I kiss over to the other side and back up to the other ear, soaking her in.
Her breathing has sped up, matching my own. She pulls back and peels her top over her head, tossing it on the floor. I reach over my shoulder and pull my shirt off as well.
“Do men take a class on how to take off their shirt in the sexiest way possible?”
“It’s in our DNA,” I reply.
“It’s impressive,” she says before leaning in and kissing my chest. She bites me gently on the collarbone, and then my neck.
“I forgot what a biter you are,” I murmur. I make quick work of getting her out of her bra, toss it aside, and cup her breasts in my palms, worrying the already hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. “Your breasts are fantastic.”
She tips her head back with a sigh as I suck on one, then the other. Her body is a bit softer than before. Rounder.
I can’t get enough of it.
She’s reaching for my pants, and all I can think about is tasting her.
“Living room,” I mutter and carry her to the sectional. I set her down and we strip out of our clothes, throwing them aside, unable to keep our hands off each other. I’m cupping her face and kissing the fuck out of her. Her hands are traveling down my sides, and just before she grips my cock in her sexy little hand, I pull back.
“If you touch me, I’ll have to fuck you now and it’ll be over.” I swallow hard when determination darkens her blue eyes. “I’m serious, Mia, we have an hour.”
“Probably closer to forty-five minutes now,” she says breathlessly.
“I’m not going to rush this.” I kiss her lips gently, and guide her down to the couch. “I want to explore you a bit.”
She bites her lip.
She’s such a fucking biter, it’s going to be the death of me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I mutter and let my fingertips explore her chest, her arms, over the slight swell of her belly and her thighs. “Lie down.”
She complies, and I silently thank her for buying this big sofa, big enough for her to lie down and for me to lie on my stomach, her legs over my shoulders.
I’m not there yet, but I will be very soon.
“I haven’t had a shower since this morning,” she informs me, already guessing what I have planned.
“I give zero fucks about that.” I drag my knuckles over her nipples, making them pucker again; and kiss her belly, right below her navel. She sighs in pleasure when I tickle that spot with my nose. My hands are travelling all over her now, slowly, softly. Her eyelids are heavy as she watches me. “Close your eyes, Mia. And hold on to the cushion over your head.”
Her eyes flash in excitement before she complies. Her skin is white and soft. Tender. Responsive.
I kiss just above her pubis. She’s not waxed, but she’s trimmed, and I can’t help but wonder if she did that for me.
Her legs scissor as my fingertips gently brush over her armpits, and down her sides, setting goosebumps on fire over her body.
“If you want me to stop, you just say the word. Do you understand?”
“For the love of God, please don’t stop.”
I grin and lick the inside of her right thigh, then the left one. Once I’m settled with her legs over my shoulders, I press my thumb against her clit and suck the lips of her pussy into my mouth, making pulsing motions. Her entire body tenses and then releases as she writhes in pleasure.
“You’re so sweet.” I lick one lip, then the other, before moving up to pull her clit into my mouth.
“Jesus, Camden.” Her hips buck. I push my hands under her ass and hold her up, giving me better access to her entire core.
“Yes?”
“I can’t.” Her head thrashes back and forth as I lick, and suck, and nibble every spot of skin. When I press my tongue to her clit and rub up and down quickly, she comes apart spectacularly, crying out, her body flushing and shivering.
I need to be inside of her. Right now.
Chapter Seven
~Mia~
He’s trying to fucking kill me. Dead. Deader than dead. My body is humming from the intense orgasm he just gave me, and the next thing I know he turns me, as if I weigh nothing, on the couch so my ass is at the edge of the cushion. He reaches for his jeans, protecting us both, and returns his attention to me.
His body is ridiculous. Bronze, as if God made him look permanently tanned. His muscles are toned, his stomach flat. A light, fine spattering of hair covers his chest and thins as it flows south to his cock.
And the cock is something to write home about.
Not that I will.
“In me,” I instruct him, looking down.
“Look at me.”
My eyes fly to his in a heartbeat. They’re deep blue, full of lust, and are pinned to mine as he takes his cock in his fist and drags the tip through my wet folds, over my clit, and makes me fling my head back.
“My God.”
“Look at me,” he says again. I comply, and he slowly slides inside me. When he’s fully buried to the hilt, he bends over and kisses me sweetly. He links he fingers with mine, and kisses the back of my hand. “You’re so fucking sweet.”
I bite my lip and flex around him, silently begging him to fucking move.
“Mia.”
“Love it when you say my name.”
He grins and pulls out halfway, then moves back in. “Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“What else do you like?”
“The list is long.”
His lips wrap around a nipple, making me arch my back and shove my fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “That. I like that.”
With a growl, he pulls me off the couch and onto the white, shag rug I bought two weeks ago. It’s soft against my back. He’s kneeling and my back is still arched, my hips up to meet his. He’s got a death grip on my hips, pushing and pulling as he slowly begins to work his way in and out of me.
I can’t even stand how good it feels. Has it ever felt like this? I don’t think so. I don’t even know if it’s legal in the state of Oregon to feel like this.
It shouldn’t be.
His palm slides from my stomach to my throat in one long, fluid motion and then back down again. He plants the pad of his thumb against my clit, and just like that I start to see stars.
“Camden.”
“Yes, baby.” He’s pulsing inside me, tiny movements that hit that damn spot over and over again, and I’m about to come harder than ever. “That’s it.”
I cover my face with my hands and cry out as the orgasm moves through me, making every nerve ending in my body tingle spectacularly.
He lowers my ass to the ground and covers me now, buries his face in my neck and groans with his own release. I’m happy to lie here for a long moment, cradling him against me, soaking in the weight of him, touching his body during one of his most vulnerable moments.
It’s just bliss. It was always bliss when it came to sex with Camden. But
this time is just a little bit . . . different. Not bad. Not bad at all. My body feels alive. Along with the bliss, there’s a longing . . . a sweetness that wasn’t there when we were younger.
It’s better than before, and I didn’t think that was possible.
“What are you thinking?” he asks against my ear, just as the oven timer dings.
“That the brownies are done.”
“That’s a lie,” he says and kisses my cheek, then my lips. He’s propped on his elbows, looking down at me.
“They’re going to burn.”
“Then you’d better answer me quickly.”
I sigh and drag my fingertips down his face. “I was thinking that slow sex feels pretty damn good.”
He eyes me for a moment, then smiles. “Taking it fast, especially this time, wasn’t an option, Mia. And for the record—I’m going to say right here and now, so there is no misunderstanding—this wasn’t just about a quick fuck.”
“That’s not romantic,” I mutter.
“Exactly. I don’t know what will happen, but this is exclusive. I don’t want there to be any confusion.”
Like before, when I was dumb.
I nod thoughtfully. “Good to know.”
He winks and rolls away. I reach for my shirt and throw it over my head as I race to the kitchen and take the brownies out of the oven.
“The edges are just a tiny bit overdone. They’ll be chewy.”
“Excellent. I like them that way.” I look back at him and almost swallow my tongue. He pulled his jeans on, but didn’t button them, and he’s not wearing a shirt.
“Do you have a license for that?”
“For what?”
“For the way you look. It’s ridiculous.”
He laughs and tugs his black T-shirt over his head, making me purse my lips in a pout. “You didn’t have to put that back on.”
“I don’t mind being your eye candy,” he says, kissing me.
“Well, that’s good. Because you are whether you like it or not. It just is.”
“Do you have ice cream to go with the brownies?” He walks over to the freezer and opens it, surveying the contents.
“I’m no amateur,” I reply with a laugh. “You serve dessert while I go clean up a bit.”