Cameron Wants to Be a Hero (Love Austen 2)

Henry stood slowly. “Excuse me. I need the bathroom.”

That was code, wasn’t it?

How long did he wait before he followed?

Henry strode toward the bathrooms, and Cameron wiped his hands on his napkin. “I actually need to—”

“May I take a picture of the two of you?” Mr. Tilney took out his phone. “I don’t like phones at the table as a rule, but you both look so lovely.”

Georgie smiled and Cameron went with it.

“My bad, had it on film, not photo. Let’s try it again.”

By the time Mr. Tilney had the right shot, at least a minute had passed. Maybe more.

His pocket buzzed.

While Georgie chatted with her dad, Cameron surreptitiously removed his phone and obscured it with the tablecloth. He looked down at his lap.

“Oh, don’t look like that, Dad,” Georgie said. “Haven’t you seen anyone pray before?”

Oh, crap, he’d been caught.

Cameron slammed his eyes shut and murmured, “Amen.” He looked up. “Sorry, I forgot to do it before we started dinner.”

“Catholic? Protestant?”

“Uh huh.”

Could he excuse himself now? But why would he pray and then pee?

Cameron picked up his fork and began eating.

Mr. Tilney resumed his questioning. Awkward minutes passed, and Henry returned, blowing his hair from his face.

Mr. Tilney leaned close. “You were gone a long time. It’s impolite to do that business at such an establishment.”

Cameron groaned into his wine and it bubbled. He finished it and let the waiters take his plate. After the bill had been paid, Georgie said, “I can take Henry and Cameron back home, Dad.”

“And have no company for my ride home?” Mr. Tilney winked at Georgie. “I’ll take Henry, you take Cameron.”

Midway through slipping on his leather jacket, Henry closed his eyes.

When he reopened them and Mr. Tilney had turned his back, Cameron mouthed, “Sorry.”

“This has been quite the night.” He held Cameron’s gaze. “Later.”

Mr. Tilney kept Henry occupied, clearly wanting to give Georgie and Cameron alone time. With an exaggerated yawn, Georgie loudly proclaimed she needed to get to bed.

“I’ll go with you,” Cameron said. They rode the service elevator to the second floor, and just as Georgie rolled into her room, Henry jogged down the hall, flushed from taking the stairs.

Cameron’s heart kicked up into his throat. Finally Henry was touching him, hand curled around his forearm, tugging him into the bedroom.

Henry shut the door and locked it.

He pushed Cameron against the cool panels, a storm of emotion briefly animating his face. His solid body meshed against Cameron’s, radiating heat and urgency. Cameron shivered as he absorbed his warmth and the heavy feel of chest and crotch against his. He’d been craving this all day.

Henry’s breath glided over his cheek, his nose, the bow of his lips. Their eyes met, and the bottom lip Cameron was biting popped free.

Henry dragged his thumb along it and claimed his mouth with a crushing kiss.

Tingles fired through his body, and he squirmed, his hard length bumping Henry’s.

Henry slid his slick tongue over the seam of his mouth. Cameron clutched him tightly, parting his lips for more. Their tongues met and Cameron sagged at the fire that coursed through him. His pulse was bucking wildly. It pounded in his ears, his cock.

Henry kissed him with hot, sensual intensity. Over and over he slanted their mouths and sucked him in.

The kisses gentled, and slowly he pulled back.

“He kissed you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Your glare says differently.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“John’s not a problem anymore.”

Henry swooped in for another kiss, then pushed off him, fingers skating down his arm to tangle with Cameron’s. “Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?”

A shaky breath left him. Later had arrived. This was it.

“I need to freshen up!”

Henry squeezed his fingers soothingly. “Of course. I’ll get more comfortable too.”

Did that mean naked?

Cameron nodded vigorously and banged against the dresser as he lurched toward their shared door. He collected himself, avoiding Henry’s amused gaze, and fled to the bathroom.

Where he texted Lake, praying wherever he was in Europe, he was awake. He’d kept Lake informed about Henry, but the man was not being as meddlesome as he was supposed to be.

Cameron: I’m at Henry’s, in the bathroom. I said I was just brushing my teeth, but I want to shower too.

* * *

Lake: Good morning from Berlin.

* * *

Cameron: Kind of in a hurry here.

* * *

Lake: Shower. Make him wait. Anticipation is sexy.

Cameron stared at his pale face in the mirror.

Cameron: Yeah, no. It’s not.

* * *

Lake: LOL.

* * *

Cameron: How do I stop being so nervous?

* * *

Lake: Let it happen naturally.

After he’d thoroughly showered and thrown on a T-shirt, boxer briefs, and fresh Happy Socks, he grabbed his moleskin and a pen—aka, security blanket—and tapped on their shared door.

Henry called out for him to come in.

With a galloping heart, Cameron took in the dim room. One bedside lamp filtered its soft pink light through the cream-and-gold bed curtains. Henry lay atop his bed, similarly dressed, feet bare, sole of one pressed against the ribbed wood of a bedpost. His other leg dangled, and he stared up at his ceiling, arms tucked behind his head.