“I’m aware of that. Put the bag on the floor for now. I’ll decide later.” Because while she stood before him deliciously naked, he didn’t have a thought in his mind other than to touch and taste and fuck. “Come here,” he said, pitching his voice low.
Her eyes heated. “Will you make it worth my while?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, Aspen watched as Camden poured wine into her glass. They occasionally sat on the rooftop to chill and talk. Usually once dusk had fallen—there was something very relaxing about sitting under the stars, even if you didn’t really pay any attention to them.
It was relatively quiet. Beneath the drone of the HVAC unit was the slightly muted sounds of traffic and the jazz music filtering from an open window.
When he’d said he had a surprise for her, Aspen hadn’t expected him to produce a box of her favorite cupcakes. She might have squealed a little. They were truly heavenly, and she could totally do with a little “heavenly” right now. This time of year was never a fun one. But nor was it something she wanted to dwell on, so she’d done as she always did—put it out of her head and acted like it was any other day.
She glanced at the rooftops of the nearby buildings, noting the various enforcers keeping a close watch on things. Her bearcat approved of Tate’s vigilance. Wayland might be one man, but he wasn’t a person who should be underestimated.
She was looking forward to the day when the guy was taken down. She was tired of having to veto daytrip ideas merely because of the threat he represented.
“As soon as this is all over, I’m going to a soccer game,” Aspen declared, lifting her glass. “A mink soccer game.”
“We’ll both go,” said Camden.
“Cool. Casey said she’d get me VIP tickets.”
“That’s the mink from the Mercury Pack, right?” he asked, referring to a pack that was closely allied to the pride.
“Uh-huh. She used to play for the team she now coaches.”
“You were good at soccer when you were a kid. You just weren’t good at losing. You’re a sore loser in general.”
She snorted. “So are you. I do recall you swiping the pieces off a chessboard once or twice when it was clear I’d win.”
“I didn’t do it because you were winning. I did it because you were gloating. Loudly. And singing The Sound of Failure.”
Aspen snickered and took a sip of her wine. “Well, am I opening the box or are you?”
“So little patience,” he taunted, lifting the lid.
She gladly took the cupcake he handed her. Biting into it, she groaned. “This frosting is seriously divine.”
His eyes dancing, he leaned forward and kissed her, dipping his tongue into her mouth to lick her own. He hummed. “Tastes better that way.”
“My mouth, or the cake?”
He sipped from his own glass. “Both.”
Aspen took another bite of her cupcake, thinking it surprising that he’d still shown no signs of becoming bored of their bed-buddy arrangement. Sure, the sex was great. Outstanding, even. But most things lost their “shine” quickly when it came to Camden, even sex, because it was more of a release for him than anything else.
Maybe, like her, he was planning to wait until their chemistry had finally fizzled out. It made sense. The thing was … the chemistry was no less electric now than it had been when this first started. She’d expected it to have dulled by now.
“Before I forget,” he began, “Corbin said to tell you that you need to have a word with Bailey. Apparently, Ginny wants her fired and is trying to start a petition to make it happen. Corbin won’t pay any heed to it, but he’s worried that the whole thing will make Bailey do something stupid.”
Aspen felt her mouth curve. “Are you kidding? She won’t be pissed, she’ll be delighted that she’s managed to annoy Ginny so much.”
“That’s what I said. Dawn agreed. But he asked me to pass on the message to you regardless.”
“You know, I’m so happy he and Dawn imprinted on each other. If any two people deserve to be happy, it’s them.” Just as Corbin had spent much of his life helping loners, Dawn had devoted many years of her life to running a homeless shelter for lone shifters. The two suited so well, and they each understood the other’s dedication to aiding loners.
Camden took another sip of his wine. “Did you see Dr. Cooper at the center earlier?”
Aspen blinked. “What? No.” Fortunately. She avoided the therapist whenever she did spot her.
“She came to see Corbin. I only saw her in passing.” His eyes danced as he added, “She gave me one of those narrow-eyed ‘you might fool everyone else but you don’t fool me’ looks.”
Aspen’s upper lip curled. “I never liked her. She was good at her job, but she didn’t know when to switch off. She would always try to corner me even when we had no sessions. Mostly she wanted to talk about you.”