She made a little gurgling noise and then shifted her feet apart. He leaned forward and used his hands to spread her outer lips so that he could lick and nibble and thrust his tongue into her over and over until her body tensed and she slapped her hands against the wall as she groaned deeply with her release.
“Mm-mm,” he said, exaggeratedly sucking on his fingers as he stood. “Perfection.”
She eyed his erection. “Maybe I should give it a try.”
His mouth went dry as he let out a shuddering breath and tried to speak, except words eluded him when she went to her knees and wrapped her hands around Mr. Most Definitely Happy Now.
She gave him a couple of test strokes and then one hand cupped his balls, her fingers dancing, and his vision went fuzzy. When she wrapped her lips around his length, his brain stuttered to a stop, and he could think of nothing at all except the physical stimulation. Her mouth sucking as her tongue swirled around him, all the while her hand massaging his balls.
Oh yeah, talk about perfection. He didn’t want it to end—except it felt so damn good, in only a few moments he was trying to push her away because he was about to lose his load and he had no idea if she was a swallower or…
She grabbed his ass, dug her fingers into his skin while she continued to suckle.
Out of his mind with blind lust, he thrust his hands into her wet hair and held on, guiding her movements until he gave a shout and came so fucking hard he was half surprised she didn’t go flying back against the shower door. And then he damn near crumpled as his legs wobbled and he leaned against the tiles while he gasped for breath and hoped to hell his heart didn’t explode in his chest.
She stood, gave him an incredibly self-satisfied smile and then turned toward the spray and proceeded to actually take a shower. He continued to stand there, propped up by the wall, wondering how in the world he’d gotten this incredibly lucky, because Camila was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. Literally everything.
What did he need to do to ensure she never, ever left his life?
Chapter Twelve
Camila could get used to this. Which was dumb, because Friday was here, which meant it was time to pack her belongings and head to her own apartment. She had to go in to work this afternoon. Hopefully, Jude had scared off her stalker so she could get on with her life.
A life she wasn’t exactly thrilled to get back to. She had been serious when she told Tommy she was thinking about a career change. Problem was, she had no idea what she planned to do, and she needed an income. Which meant she had to head back to bartending, back to her quiet, lonely apartment.
Tommy stepped into the doorway of her bedroom while she was stuffing clothes into her duffle bag. “What are you doing?”
“Packing. It’s Friday. Back to work today.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know if your stalker will still be there. You might need to stay one more night.”
Or, Tommy could come home with her tonight. That way, they wouldn’t have to sneak around for what she assumed would be their last night together. If she recalled correctly, he was leaving tomorrow, heading out to Minnesota for his next race. Back to his own life. Back to the Tinas.
“You look sad,” he remarked, moving deeper into the room. “Hopefully, that’s because you’ve been having so much fun that you don’t want to leave.”
He slid his arms around her back and pulled her into a hug. She embraced him, breathed deeply of his scent, then pushed him away before someone happened to walk down the hall and catch them. They hadn’t discussed keeping their liaison a secret, although it wasn’t at all surprising they were doing so.
No doubt doing the things they’d done together at his parents’ house while said parents were actually somewhere in the vicinity was a good enough reason. But she was equally as certain that he did not want to get his mother’s hopes up. Whatever this was between them, it definitely wasn’t long-term.
Which, she admitted only to herself, sucked big time. Damn it, she should have kept her distance. She had known this would happen. Tommy, for all his brashness when they initially met, was pretty damn easy to like. And she’d most certainly become addicted to him over the course of these all too brief few days they’d spent together.
It was really going to suck when he left.
“What time do you have to go to work?” he asked, his hand still lingering on her arm. She liked that about him, the small gestures, the gentle touches, the kisses to her temple or the top of her head. It felt intimate, like what they were doing was more than just sex. Which was a problem, of course, and yet another issue she’d have to work out on her own once he was gone.
“Four.”
He pulled the shirt out of her fingers and dropped it on the bed. “Plenty of time for another swim before you have to get ready to go.”
He was right. It was only eleven in the morning. She didn’t need to think about packing already; she still had half a day to spend with Tommy.
She grabbed her bikini from where it was draped over the back of a chair; he closed the bedroom door and stalked toward her with a look in his eye she already knew all too well.
And damned if it didn’t take them a solid forty minutes before they made their way downstairs to go swimming.
His parents had taken the dog for a walk,
