Cameron Wants to Be a Hero (Love Austen 2)

His heart beat so hard, it had to be ricocheting into Henry’s body.

Henry wrapped both arms around him. Soft, slightly dewy lips touched his temple.

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” Cameron asked.

“I’d like that.” His jaw scraped over his cheek, slightly bristly, as he spoke.

Cameron breathed erratically, unable to steady it. Unsure how to proceed, how to get what he wanted.

Henry rubbed his back, gentle, coaxing.

He felt like he was standing on a high bridge, deep water below him, while everyone else enjoyed the water. His toes curled around the edge as gravity toyed with his stomach. He wanted to jump so badly and hated being last, but the thrills shooting through him frightened him.

He closed his eyes and raised his chin until his lips bumped along the soft skin under Henry’s ear. He felt Henry’s responding shiver, and, oh God, he was jumping.

He tightened his grip around Henry and pressed a kiss to his jaw, dragging it to the edge of his lips.

Henry turned his head, lips skating over his and slotting together. Their noses grazed, and their mouths opened.

Oh God, it was like gravity chasing him as he fell. More intense. Frightening. Exhilarating.

Henry tasted wet, slick, fresh. The sweep of his tongue had Cameron harder than he’d ever been. He followed Henry’s lead, deepening their kiss.

Henry’s hands skated down his back and molded to Cameron’s ass. Cameron sank more heavily against Henry with a needy whimper.

Then Cameron was being lifted. His back met shelves as Henry’s body pinned him in place, a hand cushioning the back of his head. Nibbling kisses skated to his ear, down his throat.

Cameron’s first real kiss, soft, sexy, and surrounded by books. “I’ll have to rework my kiss scenes.”

Henry bit lightly at the curve of his shoulder and neck.

“This is way better than my imagination.”

“See what asking can get you.”

Henry’s nose dug into his throat, then rose behind his ear. This feeling was the reason a million novels were written. He arched his neck and Henry’s lips worked magic on his tingling nerve-endings. “Maybe you should take me right here.”

Henry’s laugh bubbled over his skin and he pulled back smiling, kissed his nose, fogging his glasses.

Cameron cupped his neck and pulled in again. He kissed the bow of Henry’s mouth, the crease at his nose, his eyebrows, the space between them.

Something inside him had been unlocked. The door was open, and he wanted to loot everything while his arousal still drowned his nervousness.

God, this was not the kiss of classics.

This was needy and haphazard, wanton and rakish.

He was probably making a fool of himself with his eagerness.

“Wow, Cameron. When you let go, you really let go.”

He stiffened. Pulled back. “Too much?”

Henry’s grip on his hips tightened; he shook his head, eyes dark, blown wide with lust. His voice croaked. “It’s beautiful.”

A faint giggle sounded and the door rattled. Henry lurched away, straightening his sweater, running a hand through his hair. Cameron wobbled on his feet, clutching the shelf for balance. The loss of Henry’s warm body made him shiver.

“Got carried away,” he said in a low voice.

The door rattled again. “It’s locked,” a woman said. Whoever she was with grunted, and their footsteps clacked into the distance.

Cameron let out a slow breath. “Can we—”

“We should head back.”

Right. Of course.

The tingle of the kiss lingered as Cameron re-entered the bright ballroom. Henry waited in the hall behind him, so the guests wouldn’t catch them flushed and together. He felt small and alone as he moved deeper into the vibrant, buzzing room.

He’d try again to eat something.

He filled a fresh plate, and phew, Georgie was waving at him.

He appreciated her furry cat ears and matching tight top, tail curled onto her lap. More than that, he appreciated her company. “You look different, Cameron.”

Could she tell he’d just ravished her brother’s face? “It’s the costume. Forced to keep excellent posture.”

She hummed, unsatisfied with that answer. “Your friends took me for a dance.”

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t take no for an answer. But it was fun. Henry’s usually the only one to swing me about.”

Isabella was standing at the buffet, and Henry had been waylaid by a guest at the door, and . . .

His fork clattered on the table. He picked it up and leaned close to Georgie, voice low. “What on Earth is John doing talking to your dad?”

As if on cue, Mr. Tilney and John looked over at them. John grinned, and Mr. Tilney eyed Cameron warily.

“No idea,” Georgie answered, equally curious. She tapped his nose. “Smudge of potato.”

A phone rang, and Georgie drew back. Seconds later, she shrieked happily, yelling over the room. “Henry, come, Alicia’s calling.”

A jolly female voice boomed from the speaker. “Where’s the love of my life, then?”

Cameron wiped his nose and stared at his barely touched plate, appetite stolen.

Georgie snorted. “He’s striding over here, looking ecstatic.”