Jumping up, he quickly gathered her dress, panties, bra—good, all the incriminating evidence—and dropped them into her lap before diving for his own shorts.
“Hurry up and slip into the powder room in the hall. Once you hear me talking, run upstairs.”
She nodded, held the clothes to her chest, and abruptly leaned toward him and dropped a smacking kiss on his lips. He grinned as he watched her hurry away. Hot damn, the woman had an ass that made him want to bite it.
Maybe tonight.
The bathroom door clicked shut, and a few moments later, his mother stepped into the doorway to the family room. Tommy pretended to stretch and casually pulled his T-shirt over his head.
Mom glanced over her shoulder, a puzzled look on her face. “Did I just hear the bathroom door close?”
“Yeah. I was in there.”
“Why did you close the door when you were done?”
He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t want that smell anywhere except in that little room.” While his mother rolled her eyes, he saw Camila slip out into the foyer and dart up the stairs. He let out a relieved breath.
By the time Camila came back downstairs, dressed in shorts and another ribbed tank, he’d cleaned up and had changed into workout clothes. He met her in the foyer and slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her close so he could kiss her temple.
“I’m going for a bike ride. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Her worried gaze was focused on something behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, but no one was there. He could hear his mother puttering about in the kitchen though.
“She has no idea. We’re in the clear.”
Her shoulders slumped a little. Did she regret what had happened between them? God, he hoped not. He sure as hell didn’t. All last night had done for him was make him want to get to know her even better.
“Would you be interested in riding with me?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “That depends. How intense are your bike rides? Because I haven’t ridden one in years, so I doubt I can handle any serious off-roading.”
He chuckled. “We’ll go at your pace. My mom’s bike should work for you. I’ll go tell her what we’re doing and then toss it into the back of my truck while you grab tennis shoes.”
She hurried back up the stairs, presumably to get the shoes, while Tommy went to inform his mother that neither he nor Camila would be helping with breakfast this morning. She was not surprisingly delighted by this news, which definitely should have set off alarm bells for him, but Tommy was too excited to get to spend even more one-on-one time with Camila to care that his mother, while she hadn’t caught them red-handed, may have figured out that there was something going on between them.
He took Camila to a park near his apartment. There were miles and miles of biking trails largely shaded by oak and maple trees and off the road but not difficult to maneuver. Bonus that they were fairly deserted this morning, too.
“I feel bad for asking to join you,” Camila remarked as they crested an incline and paused to admire the view of the park and a nearby lake spread out before them.
“First, I asked you, and second, why do you feel bad?” He offered her his water bottle.
She took a swig and handed it back. “You told me you like to do this alone. I can see why, by the way. It’s very relaxing.”
“I did like to do this alone.” He put his foot on the pedal and pushed off, tossing over his shoulder, “Until I met you.”
She hurried to catch up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grinned. “What do you think it means? I like bike riding with you. I like doing a lot of things with you.”
“We’ve only done three things together.” Her cheeks heated. Hopefully, she was thinking that she’d like to do it again. He sure as hell would.
“And I liked all three. A lot. We should do other things together. See if we like them too.”
She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Oh, I think you’d find I’m very, very possible.”
They clocked about fifteen miles. When Tommy announced it was time to head back, Camila said she couldn’t wait to shower.
“We could do it together and conserve water,” he suggested boldly.
Her mouth fell open. “No way. We would surely get caught.”
“Not if we do it at my apartment.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Okay.”
With a little extra bounce in his step, he loaded the bikes into the bed of his truck and drove them to his apartment. Because he was starved and knew they both needed protein, he scrambled up eggs and fried bacon and added a side of grapes, which he fed to her while she blushed prettily.
By the time he cranked the tap to turn on the water in the shower and then flipped Camila’s shirt over her head, he was so damn excited he could hardly walk for the woody he was sporting.
Which went impossibly harder when she stepped under the spray and water trickled down her body, dripping from her pert nipples and creating rivulets over her belly, where they joined together again at the course, short, dark hair covering her pussy.
He dropped to his knees.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice squeaking.
“I need another taste.”
She shook her head and tried to back away, but all she could do was press her body against the shower wall. “I’m all sweaty.”
“Sexy is the word you’re looking for.” He slid his fingers between her legs and her thighs
