Make Me Up (Killer Style 3)

Chapter One

“The most beautiful makeup on a woman is passion. But cosmetics are easier to buy.” - Yves Saint-Laurent

Drea Sanford didn’t do the ‘burbs. She didn’t do backyard BBQs with screaming kids and romping dogs. And she most assuredly did not do Cam Hardy—at least not in public. In private? That boy was as hot in bed as his swagger promised, and as long as no one knew a damn thing about it, she’d keep riding him to happy town.

At least that had been the plan.

But here she was across the Harbor City Bridge in Waterburg, sitting on an outdoor swing with a paper plate filled with potato salad, chips, and a burnt-to-a-crisp hotdog on her lap. She held a red plastic cup full of cheap beer. And the oh-so-full-of-himself-James-Bond-wanna-be’s lips were locked onto hers in front of God and everyone like their friends-with-benefits agreement was common knowledge instead of one of her most guarded secrets.

Cam had been sniffing after her since the day they’d met nearly a year ago, and she’d cut him off at the knees every time. But a sex positive girl like herself could only deny her own lust for the hotness that was Cam Hardy for so long…and she’d given in a few months ago—but only if he agreed to keep it just between them. No one needed to be in her business or realize that she’d fallen for the cocky super stud of Harbor City.

But now he was kissing her in Sylvie’s backyard in front of everyone. There was no way around it. She had to cut off her secret lover—just as soon as she could find the willpower to end this kiss. Arrogant lothario or not, Cam knew how to kiss. Strong. Confident. Temping as all hell. He teased her just the way he knew she liked, making everything below her waist warm, wet, and tingly.

The sound of laughter broke through the lusty haze surrounding them and brought her back to reality. As much as she liked his mouth and all the things he could do with it, he’d crossed the line by kissing her in public. She’d grown up with her personal business being everyone’s business, and she’d rather go makeup free forever than go through that again.

Anyway, she didn’t do second chances.

Life’s a bitch that way—and didn’t she know it from personal experience.

She pushed against his chest—honed to a solid muscular mass by long hours in the gym and God knew what else—and got an inch of summer air between them.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Cam rubbed light circles on her bare thigh just north of her knee.

Poor boy didn’t have a clue. He’d made a promise, broken it, and she was done.

She knocked his hand away from her skin. “If anyone saw that, I’m going to punch you in the nuts.”

Drea did a quick sweep of Sylvie’s and Tony’s backyard. Even from their semi-secluded spot in the yard’s back corner, someone could have spotted them. The place was packed with people here to celebrate the couple’s engagement. Her best friend’s dads stood behind the fake Tiki bar, mixing sangria tasty enough to make people temporarily forget the fact that it was strong enough to strip paint. Tony manned the grill as various members of his family offered unsolicited advice on when to flip the burgers. Okay, maybe no one had seen the kiss.

She could almost convince herself of it…except Sylvie and Ryder were giggling by the food table, never making eye contact with Drea. That was all she needed to know. Her besties hadn’t missed a damn second of her unexpected kiss with Cam. Her cheeks burned, and she downed the rest of her beer.

“If anyone saw what?” Cam winked and snatched a chip off her plate. “Saw me kiss you, or saw you kiss me back?”

“You knew the deal. No going public.”

“Who cares if anyone sees us? Let’m talk.”

The truth smacked her in the face. “Was that your plan all along—to make our little fling public?” She nearly threw the plate at him.

“Babe.” He laughed loud enough that heads turned in their direction. “You know I don’t plan.”

“You should, because this little harebrained scheme just cost you a chance at ever getting between my sweet thighs again.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because you’re good in bed, but not good enough that I want to be known as just one more conquest for the man who accounted for most of Trojan’s business in Harbor City. My private business, is my business.”

Cam toyed with the purple strap of her tank top. “What’s wrong, your ego can’t take everyone finding out I’ve finally caught you?”

He leaned back against the back of the faded double swing, his six-foot, five-inch frame thick with muscles—the better to hold up his massive ego—taking up most of the space. The damn thing was so big that even after a year of knowing each other, he still didn’t understand that presenting an impenetrable, no-one-can-hurt-me facade to the world was the biggest rule in her life. Really, it was her only rule. And letting everyone know that she’d almost fallen for a playboy like Cam, who left hearts shattered in his wake on a daily basis, broke shattered that image to smithereens.

He chuckled and relaxed back in the seat until his thigh lined up against hers, as if he had every right to jangle her nerves so thoroughly.

She got out of the seat and turned around to face him, but she was lost for words when she realized standing up had just given him a better view. His green-eyed gaze took in her entire body. Then he grinned, pissing her off and drenching her panties at the same damn time.

If anyone could carry off absolutely wicked and totally charismatic at the same time, it was Cam. She itched to run her fingers through his thick mass of tousled honey blond hair. His murky green eyes were full of dark promise, the kind she knew he could deliver.

And then there was his body. She could eat Jell-O off of his tanned washboard abs and the gelatin wouldn’t have the courage to jiggle. Being near him was like standing at the edge of the subway platform a

s the train whooshed by—exhilarating, dangerous, and addicting on a completely visceral level.

But he’d broken her rule. The one thing she’d asked him not to do—and he’d gone and done it anyway. She wasn’t sure whether knowing he’d done it without thinking made the situation worse or just sad. But she couldn’t keep seeing him if she couldn’t trust him to keep this a secret. Hell, after that kiss, there was no secret. Cover blown. Everyone knew.

Time to cut her losses. Breaking it off now was the smart plan.

“I know what it is.” He stood up and closed the distance between them. “You’re embarrassed because you think someone saw your tongue push its way into my mouth—accidentally, I’m sure. And heard that sweet, soft moan of pleasure—”

She pushed her hand against his chest and forced him back. “Get over yourself, pretty boy.”

He didn’t even blink at the insult. “You want me. I want you. The sex is amazing. Why are you fighting so damn hard against letting people know we’re together?”

“Because we’re not.” She had no plans to trod down the well-worn path to Cam Hardy’s bed again. “You knew the rules when this thing started.”

“No going public.” His gaze pinned her to the spot, and he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. “Look, babe, give me another chance.”

It made her mouth go dry and other places get wet. They’d had one hell of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am twisting of the sheets, but they’d known from the start this was temporary. She’d known it. He’d known it. They’d agreed to keep it secret.

So why was he acting like it meant anything to him? She’d needed a little stress relief, preferably in the form of a hot guy who’d given her three—okay, four—orgasms in one night. Cam was hot, talented, and not into commitments. But he had just hung her dirty laundry out for the world to see. She’d sworn she’d never go through that again.