The Thing About Trouble (Crystal Lake 1)

He wanted to kiss her so badly, his insides shook. But Cam wasn’t the kind of guy to take without permission, and no way was he pressing forward until she said so. He knew she wanted him. They were way past that. But he also knew there were things at play he didn’t understand, and that wanting didn’t mean surrender. Then there was the other stuff. This here woman was different. She had baggage, and a lot of it. She was probably trouble, no doubt about that. But she also lit a fire in him that he’d never felt before. But Cam had a feeling any trouble headed his way was gonna be worth it. Blue moved against him, and he didn’t bother hiding the groan that fell from his lips.

She was gonna be more than worth it.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had dessert.” Blue breathed the words and reached for him. That was all it took. Cam was about to fall down a big old rabbit hole, and he didn’t give a flying crap. All he could think about was the woman in his arms. The warmth of her body. The softness of her curves.

And satisfying that damn sweet tooth.

The festival receded, as did the noise and the people. They were alone in a cocoon of their own making, and he slid his hands up her scalp and dipped his head, claiming her mouth in one swift move.

She was soft and pliant. She tasted like mint and felt so damn right in his arms, he could barely stand it. When she opened her mouth and met his tongue with her own, he didn’t bother to hide his groan. He moved closer. So damn close. And one hand found its way to her ass, cupping her against him as he kissed her like no one’s business. She had to know how worked up he was. There was no hiding the hardness between his legs.

The kiss was warmth and touch, aggression and tenderness. And when he finally pulled away, he had to take a moment, because the look of her mouth bruised from his

was one he’d remember to the end of his days. Those damn invisible fists were pumping again, and if he were an animal, he’d be roaring his possession.

He stared at her for a long time, not wanting to let go, then gave her one last lingering kiss for the road. “We’ve got a problem.”

“We do?” She barely breathed the words.

“We do.” He ran his fingers across her bare shoulders. Thank heaven for halter tops. They really were God’s gift. “We have to head back now, or they’ll be questions and overcooked burgers and, well, we can’t have that.” He paused as the air around them quieted. “Come to my place tonight, Blue.”

He watched her closely, aware she’d pulled back and that maybe there was a bit of panic in her eyes.

“I have to go.”

“You want me.” Cam wasn’t being a dick or anything, he was being truthful. “And I sure as hell want you.” He dropped one last kiss onto her soft, moist mouth and felt her tremble in his arms. She moved away from him and took several steps before his words stopped her in her tracks.

“You know where I live, Blue. Come around eight.”

She was so still, with her head cocked to the side, like a fawn in the meadow, listening for danger. “Just to be clear, you weren’t with that woman last night.”

“No. She’s not the one I want.”

Without another word, she disappeared around the corner, leaving Cam with an aching cock, a muddled mind, and a need he’d never felt before in his life. He checked his watch and winced.

It was gonna be a long day.

12

Blue was in trouble, no way around it. Trouble with a capital T. What the hell had she been thinking letting Cam Booker kiss her like that?

She had a plan. A blueprint for the rest of her life, and it didn’t include someone like Cam Booker because Cam Booker was too damn complicated. Things with him would never be easy or tame. The guy had too much of an edge, and she’d grown up in a household that worshipped at the altar of that shit, and Blue swore she’d never live it again. The day she walked out of her mother’s house was the first day she’d felt free.

Cam Booker scared her, plain and simple. It was why she avoided men like Cam and why David had been so incredibly right for her. And how had she honored David’s memory? By sticking her tongue down Cam Booker’s throat.

“Oh God,” she muttered, shaking her head.

The man was sex on a stick. A very, very big stick. She blushed thinking of how he’d felt against her. But more importantly, of how he made her feel.

Exhilarated.

Sexy.

Desirable.

She’d never felt any of those things before. It confused and scared the crap out of her, which, for a woman her age, was kind of embarrassing.

Up until that kiss, she’d thought she was one of those girls, the frozen ones, the ones who felt nothing. It was why and how she’d survived Vegas. No man had ever turned her head or made her want a relationship. And the few times she’d given in and had sex, she’d been more curious than anything, and left feeling like nothing had changed. Sex was okay.