“I’m not passionate about what I do. I’m a decent bartender, and I’m attractive, so my tips are good, but I don’t love it. I’d like to figure out what I do love and make a career out of that.”
He nodded slowly and didn’t ask her what she thought this new career might be. Probably because he was intuitive enough about her to know she had no freaking clue. And she appreciated that.
Abruptly, she stood. “Let’s go inside.”
Handing her his drink, he said, “Sure. Let me douse the fire.”
She waited impatiently while he used the hose to ensure the flames were extinguished. She didn’t second-guess her decision, not once. That said something, right? She’d had plenty of opportunity to change her mind. Hell, right now, as he returned from turning off the hose and accepted his mug, she could say her good nights when they stepped into the house and flipped off the outside lights.
But she didn’t.
A soft glow radiated from a night light in the foyer, at the base of the stairs. It was enough to make their way to the family room, where someone—no doubt Tommy’s mother—had made up his bed on one of the couches. Freddy was curled up on top of the blanket. His stubby tail began wagging when they stepped into the room.
Camila considered sitting on another piece of furniture but curled up next to the dog instead. When Freddy hopped to the floor and then leapt up onto the nearby chair, Tommy arched his brows but said nothing as he sat next to her.
“So…”
“I’m not very good at this,” she blurted.
“At what?”
“This whole seduction routine.”
Those brows of his shot so high they disappeared into his hairline. “You’re trying to seduce me?”
“You couldn’t tell?”
He chuckled. “Camila, I’ve been trying really hard not to let my thoughts go down that path.”
Right. Because she’d told him she wasn’t interested. Multiple times. “You can let your thoughts wander now.”
She could see the spark in his eyes even in the dim light. “Oh, they’re definitely wandering.”
“How about your hands? Can you let them wander too?”
He snorted out a laugh. “Do you need me to make the first move?”
She swallowed and nodded. He reached out and gently tucked an errant curl behind her ear. She closed her eyes to better savor the sensation. She felt his finger trail along her cheek to her chin, where he tapped lightly.
She opened her eyes.
“Come here,” he said, and he sat back against the cushions, both feet flat on the floor, his knees slightly parted.
Hesitantly at first, she climbed into his lap, and he placed his hands on her hips to guide her into place. Her dress rode high on her thighs, and the seam of her panties nestled against his rapidly growing erection.
He moved his hands up, smoothing them over her back until he reached her neck, and then he brought them around to cup her face and pull her toward him. She watched his lids flutter closed, his lips pucker, his head tilt slightly to the side. Her own body responded, need coiling into a tight ball in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers tingled, her toes curled.
And they hadn’t even kissed yet.
She let out a shuddering sigh a moment before their lips met.
The kiss was gentle at first, almost as if he were testing the waters, giving her time to change her mind if she were so inclined.
She stabbed her fingers into his hair and canted her head and opened her mouth, inviting him in, silently giving him the permission he sought. His tongue swept into her mouth, and if her eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of her head.
Damn, the man knew how to kiss.
And then he rolled his hips, dragging that erection across her drenched panties. She whimpered and tightened her hold on his hair.
His hands came down to rest on her thighs. Without breaking the kiss, he slid them up, under the hem of her dress, to cup her ass. He kneaded for a few moments, until she squirmed on his lap, and then he gently raked his nails up her back until he hit her bra strap, which he efficiently and expertly unclasped.
Bringing his hands around her sides, he covered her breasts and let out a groan when she arched her back to press them more firmly into his palms.
He finally broke the kiss so that he could flip her dress over her head, taking the bra with it. He watched his own hands as they explored her body, getting acquainted, becoming intimate. Heating her until she was panting and unabashedly dry humping him, craving, needing that friction between her legs.
“Okay, I got you,” he said, and he flipped her onto her back on the couch.
She widened her thighs as he knelt between them. Lifting her foot, he dropped a kiss on the arch, his gaze on her face.
She squirmed, and a gasp escaped her lips.
One kiss chased another as he made his way up the inside of her calf, then the back of her knee, and, finally, he began nibbling as he traveled along her thigh, until he reached her silk-covered …
“Treasure,” he said and she blinked.
He ran a finger along her seam. “This. You. You’re a treasure, Camila.”
Wow.
He shook his head. “No, no. A cupcake.”
“Huh?”
He grinned and sat up, slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs and then tossing them over the back of the couch.
“Yeah, a cupcake. I love cupcakes. I love to lick the frosting. Bury my face in it. Savor every single drop.”
“Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her body not to combust. Not yet. She wanted to enjoy at least a
