Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 156145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Cameron got them to their hotel—a little boutique place strategically placed a few short blocks from Concord Inc. They’d ended up with a two-bedroom suite, which was what he and Aaron usually booked when their work required travel, but it took on a new significance with Trish.
They were staying behind the same locked door in this place.
For fuck’s sake, get ahold of yourself. This is business. This has only ever been business.
Except nothing when it came to Trish felt like business.
He held the door open for her, angling his body away to avoid her accidentally brushing against him. “Take whatever room you want.”
“Generous.” Trish shot him an arch look over her shoulder, as if she knew exactly why he was being so generous. She didn’t say anything else, though. She just dropped her bag in the middle of the small living space and went investigating.
Cameron forced himself not to follow her, but instead walked to the tiny dining room table and started setting up his computer. “If you want a shower, I can run down and grab us some food.”
She poked her head out the first bedroom door. “My kingdom for some genuine fish and chips.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He left before he could think too hard about what Trish in the shower would be like. Her showering had almost been their downfall before, and Cameron knew himself well enough to know his self-control wouldn’t last through a third time of backing away from her. Better to avoid the temptation altogether by removing himself from the building.
He had no idea how they were supposed to get through the next few days without stepping all over each other. Challenging enough to be closeted in an office with her when they were able to retreat to their respective homes after hours. But being together 24-7 in the same workplace, the same hotel suite?
The odds of keeping his hands off her were not in his favor.
Cameron took his time walking down to the lobby and waylaid the bellhop to get recommendations for places with good fish and chips. The nearest one the guy recommended was more than a few blocks, but after being cramped in the plane for so long, he welcomed the chance to stretch his legs.
And it would ensure Trish had plenty of time to shower and get dressed again before he returned.
Satisfied he’d made the right call, he lengthened his stride and put some distance between himself and the siren call Trish Livingston represented.
Trish took her time in the shower, washing away the grit of traveling. She’d chosen the room with the smallest bed—Cameron needed more space than she did, after all—and it had the added bonus of the better bathroom. There was a claw-foot tub big enough to hold a party in and the shower wasn’t exactly orgy-sized, but it was generous for the square footage.
She shut off the water and wrapped a towel around herself. The fluffy fabric slid luxuriously against her skin, drawing out a shiver. Sitting next to Cameron on the plane had her all pent-up and needy. Even after the shower, she was sure she could smell the evergreen soap he used. Her body responded accordingly, skin going tight, nipples pebbling, the spot between her thighs increasingly achy.
God, she wanted him.
Trish padded to the door to her room and peeked out. The suite was silent and empty. She had no idea how long Cameron had been gone—or when he’d be back. A thrill went through her at the thought. I shouldn’t risk it. But on the heels of that, her innate stubbornness kicked in. That only makes it hotter.
She shut her door and tossed the towel over the low-backed chair situated by the window. Naked, she slipped between the sheets and stretched out. It wouldn’t take long. She’d been halfway there since she woke up surrounded by him. It didn’t matter that they’d been in separate seats and he’d barely touched her. Trish was so damn primed, all it would take was his breathing on her clit and she’d come screaming.
Her toes curled as she cupped her breasts, pretending it was his hands there. Not rough. Certainly not gentle. A firm touch. A freaking perfect touch.
It’s not perfect because it’s not the real thing.
She didn’t care. She’d come too far to go back now.
Trish rolled one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and ran her other hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. A moan slipped free as she pushed a single finger into herself. She arched her back, letting the sheets slide down to reveal her breasts. It didn’t matter that no one could see her. She felt watched, and that was enough to send her skirting along the edge of a truly great orgasm.
Imagining it was Cameron’s eyes on her?
She circled her clit once, twice, a third time, and as she came, she moaned his name aloud. “Oh my God, Cameron.” Her orgasm rolled over her, bowing her back and she could have sworn she heard him murmuring her name. Pleasure-induced hallucination, for sure.