I pick up my beer and slug the rest of it back. Spotting one of the waitresses wandering the room, I hold my empty bottle up, silently requesting another.
I glance back over to where Camila is sitting. My jaw clenches and a tick forms in my temple when I see a couple of guys standing at the table talking to the women. I don’t give two shits if they talk to Penelope, Harley, or Charlotte, but one is standing entirely way too close to Camila for my comfort. I’m in no position to lay a claim on her, but damned if the sight of her laughing at something one of the guys says doesn’t send a murderous rage through me. That anger builds when he puts his hand on the back of her chair.
I wait as the waitress drops off my fresh beer then I pull my phone from my pocket. I bring up her name, hoping like hell she has the volume up on her phone, or at least set to vibrate.
Me: I’m about two seconds away from tearing that guy’s hand off.
I press send and lift my attention back across the room. It takes her about half a minute before she’s picking up her phone and looking at the screen. Her head jerks up and her eyes dart my way, her brows drawn down. She then looks at the guy’s hand on the back of her chair before she goes back to her phone.
My phone pings a moment later.
Baymont: I have zero interest in this guy. Behave. And stop looking at me like that before someone figures out our secret.
I hit reply.
Me: Does it make me a bad person that I want to smash his face into the table every time you laugh at something he says?
Her response comes less than a minute later.
Baymont: Not a bad person. But it does kinda make me wet thinking about how jealous you are.
I chuckle to myself. I’ve never been jealous over a woman a day in my life, but I damn sure am now. I want to deck any man who even looks Camila’s way.
Me: Meet me in the hallway where the bathrooms are in five minutes.
I look across the room as I hit send on my phone. It seems like it takes forever before she looks down at the screen. Her bottom lip gets tugged between her teeth and a look of concentration crosses her face. She doesn’t look at me as her fingers start tapping the screen. I look down at my own phone, anxiously waiting for her reply. The little bubbles pop up, then disappear, only to pop up again.
Baymont: Okay.
My cock twitches, well on its way to filling with blood. Picking up my beer, I down the entire thing before I get up from my seat.
“Hitting the head,” I inform Carter.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I glance at him. He’s looking in the direction of the women, and at first I tense, thinking he’s eyeing Camila. It’s not until I notice Harley looking our way that I realize it’s her he’s checking out. I can see the reluctance on his face as he pulls his eyes away from her to meet mine.
I lift an amused brow at his fascination with Harley.
“Sure. We’ll catch up more later,” he says.
I give him a chin lift before I leave.
Down the darkened hallway I go, stopping just past the bathrooms in front of a door that leads to a utility closet. It’s pathetic that at thirty-eight years old I’m getting ready to make out, and possibly fuck, if I have my way, in a fucking utility closet.
But then, when it comes to Camila, there are no possibilities I wouldn’t consider.
Several long minutes later, her silhouette appears at the end of the hallway. With the lights a little brighter behind her, her face is shadowed. She pauses for a moment before her heels click against the tile floor. The closer she gets, the harder my heart pounds. It still amazes me how much this woman affects me. Not just my cock, but in other areas of my anatomy.
Once she’s only a foot away, I look behind her to make sure no one is coming down the hallway, then I reach for her. Snaking an arm around her back, I yank her against my chest. She collapses against me with a breathy, “Oh.”
As I drop my head and seal my lips over hers, I reach behind her for the door, pushing it open. I lift her up and walk us into the room, closing the door with a soft snick. I start patting the walls, looking for a light switch. She must be doing the same because a second later, she finds it and a low yellow light fills the room.
Lifting my head, I take a moment to just look at her. She’s wearing make-up, but I know there’s still a bruise on her cheek. Remembering what my wife did still fills me with rage.
“I fucking missed you,” I mumble, dropping my head for another kiss.
She laughs, the sound light and happy. “It’s only been a couple of days.”
“A couple of days is way too damn long. You’ve put a spell on me, Camila. I miss you the second you leave my sight.”