Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“You look beautiful,” he whispers as his eyes drop to my lips.
“So do you,” I breathe.
The elevator doors open and he leads me in. I turn to face the door and he stands behind me. The door slowly shuts and he pushes my hair to one side as his lips drop to my neck. My eyes close instantly. The feel of his lips gently kissing my skin is so damn good.
He kisses my neck, softly at first, again and again and then, as if losing control, he bites me hard and I whimper. He grabs my hipbone and pulls me back so I can feel how hard he is behind me.
“You have no idea how badly I want you,” he whispers in my ear causing goosebumps to erupt, and whether it’s his breath on my skin or the sound of his words that nearly make me convulse, I will never know.
He sucks my skin as my knees nearly buckle from underneath me. “Cameron,” I whimper.
I’ve never had this—had a man that is so in tune with my body before. It’s as if he knows exactly what to do, exactly where to touch me, and exactly what to say.
The door of the elevator opens and he snaps out of his daydream, takes my hand, and retrieves the key to the room from his pocket.
I frown as a sense of sadness swipes through me that he knows the drill here.
How many times has he done this before? Has he slept with any women that were downstairs with me?
“What’s wrong?” he asks, sensing my disapproval.
Get a grip of yourself. He doesn’t need to explain his past. God knows you haven’t even scratched the surface of yours, I remind myself.
I fake a smile. “Nothing.”
He watches me for a moment. “Just say it.”
I shrug, embarrassed.
“What?”
“How many times have you been here before, Cameron?”
He shrugs and rolls his lips as he contemplates his answer.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Sorry for asking. I know it doesn’t matter.”
“Does it matter to you?”
I drop my eyes to the carpet in front of me. “It shouldn’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He’s got me. I nod softly.
He cups my face with his hand and lifts it so that our eyes meet. “I only wanted to meet you here because I knew you needed the money.”
I frown.
“This is the last place on Earth I want to see you.”
A lump forms in my throat.
“You belong in my home.” He pauses and kisses me gently. “In my bed.”
Of all the things he could have said, that’s what I needed to hear the most.
“I don’t want you to judge me because I work here,” I murmur.
“I won’t.”
“I’m not here for the money tonight,” I whisper as he kisses me softly. “I’m here for you.”
He stills for a moment and looks up the hall toward our room, and then back down on me. “I don’t want you staying here.”
I frown.
“Come home with me.”
“What? I can’t. I’ll get into trouble.” I frown.
“Nobody will know. There’s a separate exit.”
“Cam…”
“If we stay here...” He frowns as he thinks. “This is always where our first date will be.”
I smile softly. Why does he insist on getting better and better? I put both of my arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him gently. “I like how you think,” I whisper through a smile.
He smirks against my lips and drops his hand to my ass. “I like you more. Now let’s get out of here.”
12
Cameron sits behind the wheel of his luxury car and pulls into the wide circular driveway of his mansion. I sit quietly in the passenger seat and I think I may have just done the stupidest thing in my life so far. I’ve let him make me hope for something more.
The club was safe. The club was just fucking.
This feels raw, intimate, and very much like he’ll soon have the ability to hurt me.
Run. Now.
He appeared to be deep in thought all the way to his home.
Cameron parks the car and we sit in the darkness for a moment, as if lost in our own thoughts while my heart hammers in my chest.
Eventually, he climbs out and opens my door to help me out. He takes my hand in his as we walk in silence to his front door.
“Is that you, Mr. Stanton?” a male voice calls from around the side of the house. I can hear the gravel crunching under his feet as he approaches us.
“Yes, Steve,” he replies.
A man appears from around the side of the house with a flashlight in his hand, and his eyes flicker between us. Upon realizing it is, in fact, Cameron, he smiles and disappears back to where he came from.
“Who’s that?’
“My security guard.”
“Why do you have a security guard?” I whisper.
“Joshua’s insistence.”
“Who’s Joshua?”
“My brother.”
“Oh.” That’s weird. “Is this a bad neighborhood?” I ask.