I feel her breathing pick up and my pulse starts racing. The music doesn’t seem as loud as the buzz of electricity between us and the only people in the world are Cami and me. We are only ones that matter. And all we can do is feel.
“And if they’re not, I’d have to take measures to fix that.”
She rubs her butt up against me and I grit my teeth. It’s a testament to my self-control that I don’t do something wildly inappropriate. I mean, we are in a public place. And Cami’s not the kind of girl that’s down with stuff like that, I’m sure. She’s classy. Not stuffy, just classy.
But damn, I almost wish she wasn’t. Just for tonight.
She takes her hands out of my hair and lowers her arms. She surprises me by reaching around behind me and grabbing my butt, right at the same time she grinds her h*ps into mine.
A growl escapes and I feel almost violent when I sink my teeth into her shoulder. She gasps, but when I lean up and look at her face, she looks like she’s enjoying it, which just turns me on that much more.
“Cami,” I say, my tone louder and more serious.
Her eyes pop open and meet mine. They’re dark with desire, but they seem lucid. “Are you sober?”
Her smile is slow. Super slow. And cat-like. “Sober enough. Let’s get out of here.”
Without even pausing, I take her hand and pull her off the dance floor. Jenna is sitting in Rusty’s lap trying to swallow his face when we get to the table.
“We’re leaving. You can either come with us or find another way back,” I say as I dump enough bills on the table to cover our tab and a big tip.
Rusty looks up at me and grins. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. And he couldn’t agree more. Without a word from anybody, Jenna scoots off his lap and we all make our way out the door. We can’t get to the hotel fast enough.
I’m practically running through the lobby to punch the elevator button. Thank God, it arrives quickly and we all four board the car. I don’t feel like talking. No one else must either.
The first stop is on the third floor to drop off Rusty and Jenna. They exit with mumbles of seeing us at breakfast. Jenna grins at Cami and Rusty gives me a peace sign as the doors close. As soon as we’re on the move again, I pull Cami into my arms and kiss her. She melts against me and my mind is filled with thoughts of stabbing the emergency stop button, pushing her up against the walls of the small car and slaking the hunger that’s riding me like a prize bull.
A soft ding signals our arrival on the sixth floor. Reluctantly, I drag my lips from Cami’s. The look on her face is soft and dreamy and full of promise. Impulsively I scoop her up and carry her to our room. When I stop in front of the door, rather than let her down, I tell her, “The key’s in my back right pocket.”
She squeezes her hand beneath my arm and wiggles her fingers into my pocket. She moves them around, probably more than she needs to in order to find the credit card looking thing. I know that for sure when I see her devilish grin.
“Hurry up or I’m going to embarrass us both out here.”
She chuckles and pulls the key out. I bend enough for her to work it into the lock. The light turns green and she hits the handle. I push the door open and let it fall shut behind us. I walk straight to the bed and stop.
The room is quiet around us. Cami is smiling up at me, something sweet and warm and sexy in her eyes. My heart is thumping in anticipation. We’re finally alone. I have her all to myself, like I’ve wanted since pretty much the first moment I saw her.
She’s mine.
I watch her smile slowly fade. We stare at each other for a long time.
I have no idea what I’m thinking. Or if I’m really thinking at all. And I certainly don’t know what Cami’s thinking.
I bend my head and brush my lips over hers. I feel them tremble. Not in passion. It’s not that kind of kiss. I don’t know what it says; I just know it’s something I want to say.
When I lean back and look into her eyes, they’re violet pools that hold some allure I’ve never encountered before. I feel like a mariner who, after months at sea, spots the bright flash of the lighthouse. I don’t want to think of anything past that. Because there can be nothing past that.
Until she speaks. And changes everything.
“I love you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - Cami
My head is fuzzy, but I know where I’m at. And who I’m with. And it makes the morning bright and full of promise, even before I open my eyes.
I smile to myself as I think of Trick, of how awesome he is, how charming and handsome and—.
An uncomfortable thought intrudes on the pleasure of the moment, like maybe something that was a part of a dream, but I can’t be sure.
After a second, it begins to feel less like a dream.
And becomes alarming instead.
Holy shit! Did I tell Trick I love him?
I squeeze my eyes shut against the thought that I’d done something so stupid.
Maybe I dreamed it. Or maybe I imagined it. I had a crapload of tequila after all.
I start praying desperately.
Please God, don’t let me have told him I love him! Please God!
Then, when I realize it’s a little late for that, I try another tactic.
Please God, don’t let him remember it. Please God, let me have mumbled. Let me have stuttered. Let me have slurred. Anything!
As hard as I can, I try to focus on the details of the night. A warm flush sweeps through me as I think of the more intimate things, the things that are much, much clearer. Trick is amazing! And I mean a-mazing!
But I probably screwed it all up by telling him I love him.
The longer I lay here thinking about it, the more certain I am that I didn’t dream the horrific deed. Or imagine it. I think it’s real. I think it really happened.
Finally, when I’m in a near panic, I get the courage to turn over and look for Trick. The way he’s acting will tell me all I need to know probably. And I’m a big girl. It’s time to face the music.
Slowly, I lean up a little and turn my head on the pillow. To my surprise, disappointment and consternation, the bed is empty. But there’s a note. I reach over and grab it from his pillow.
It reads:
Good morning, gorgeous. I’m getting coffee. BRB—
Trick.
I feel the huge smile spread over my face. That doesn’t sound like the note of someone freaked out by the premature launching of the L-word. Maybe I didn’t say it after all.
Suddenly feeling light and gleeful, I grab his pillow, pull it over my face and inhale. It smells just like him.
I lay there for a second until I realize what an idiot I’m being then I put the pillow back. Scooting quickly out of bed, I head for the bathroom to clean up before Trick gets back.
I brush my teeth and try to freshen up last night’s makeup. I put on my clothes and spray some perfume on them. They still smell like smoke.
After a couple minutes, I realize I still stink like a stale bar maid, so I turn on the shower. I might as well do it up right. If Trick gets back too soon, he can just come join me.
That thought alone makes me take my sweet time in the shower.
I get out and dress. Then put my makeup on. Then do my hair. Then undress and put lotion on and dress again. After all that, still no Trick.
Now I’m worried.
Surely he wouldn’t get freaked and bail. Surely not…
I’m perched on the edge of the bed, looking out at the perfect morning sky when I hear the lock click on the door. Trick creeps in and closes it silently behind himself. He’s carrying a bag and a tray of coffee cups. When he sees me, he stops and smiles.
“I don’t guess I need to worry about waking you.”
“No, I’ve been up for a while.”
He walks to the dresser and sets down his load then turns to the bed. He plants his fists on either side of my h*ps and leans in. “I can see that.” He sniffs my neck, giving me cold chills. “And smell that. You smell…edible.”
The way he says edible—his voice low, his drawl evident—brings back flashes of the night. Late. Very late. After we’d both dozed off. He woke me up kissing my stomach.
My pulse flutters with remembered excitement.
“I do?”
“Mmm,” he mumbles, kissing the corner of my mouth.
I’m torn between nervousness and desire, but nervousness wins out. I clear my throat. “So, you brought coffee?”
He leans back and I see that he’s smiling. Wryly. Another good sign.
“I brought breakfast, too. Those two losers downstairs were still sleeping, so I got us a little something. That way we can eat and head on over to the horses.”
“Perfect!” I exclaim. “I’m starving.” I squeeze past him and go for the brown paper bag.
“Wait! I’ll get it,” he says, but he’s not fast enough. I’ve already opened the bag. On top is a box of condoms. “Please don’t be insulted.”
I turn to him. “Why would I be insulted?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It might come across as…presumptuous.”
I smile. “After last night, I don’t think that’s possible.”
He laughs. “Well, I usually keep one on me for emergencies. Because, you know, nowadays you have to boil people. But these are for you.”
“For me? What do you mean?”
He cups my face in his hands. “I mean I wouldn’t use anything if it were up to me. I’m clean. And I’m pretty sure you’re clean. I think you’d have told me otherwise. I trust you that much. And I’d give anything to feel you. Really feel you. All of you. Wrapped around me. But I’ll wait until you’re ready for that. That’s what I mean. These are for you.”
As I look up into his eyes, into the beautiful collage of pale greens and grays swirling together, those three little words bubble to my lips again.
Of course, now, being sober, I shut them in. It does make me realize, though, that it’s highly likely I really said them aloud last night. It also makes me realize that I don’t remember him saying them back.
I want to die as I think of how uncomfortable my little bomb must’ve made him feel. The only way I can go forward is lightly, as if nothing happened and I’m not “there” yet. Prematurely.
“And for me so that I don’t get pregnant, you mean.”
“Oh,” he says, clearly stunned. “Of course. I guess…I thought…I just assumed you were on the pill, since you and…”
“Brent,” I supply.
“I know his name,” he declares with a wry smile. “I met him, remember?”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really doing a shit job of waking you up this morning. Can I just go out and come back in? Let’s try that.”
Releasing me, Trick grabs the box of condoms, stuffs them in the top drawer of the dresser and takes the bag and the coffee back out into the hall. After a few seconds of silence, I hear the lock click again and the door swings open.
Much as he did before, Trick silently lets the door fall closed behind him, but this time he doesn’t stop when he sees me. He goes straight to the dresser, deposits our breakfast, takes me in his arms and dips me like Fred might dip Ginger.
“Good morning,” he whispers, grinning down at me. And then kisses me. Like, really kisses me. By the time he’s done, I’m holding onto his shoulders for dear life, thinking I might melt into a puddle and ooze out of his arms if I don’t.
He pulls me upright and says, “I brought you breakfast because you need nourishment after the thorough ravishing I gave you last night.” I stare at him, mainly because I’m still thinking about where I wanted that kiss to go. “I’m pretending I left you exhausted and weak. Just go with it.”
I smile, warming to his playful humor. “Oh, my! Just what I needed. I’m famished,” I say in my best Southern drawl. Wide-eyed, I continue as an innocent belle might. “It’s like I was ridden by a beast with great stamina last night. But surely it was only a dream.”
Trick is smiling when he hands me a cup of coffee. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. A beast with great stamina. Yeahhhhh.” He takes the lid off his own cup and taps his coffee cup to mine. “Here’s to long, steamy nights. May there be many more where that came from.”
I say nothing, only smile, but in my head I’m thinking Hell yeah!
I watch him as he looks at me over the top of his cup. I’m thoroughly captivated by his charm and that sexy way he has about him. It’s a potent cocktail. He winks at me and my stomach flips over. I smile again, even as I ignore the small part of my brain that’s throwing off warnings about getting too close. I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that.
********
On the way to Trick’s preferred spot to watch the wild Mustangs, I learn that North Carolina, as well as most other states that host a population of the rare and endangered species, has a plan for keeping the numbers of wild horses at a manageable level. Among several other options, they allow for adoption at certain times throughout the year. Trick is hoping to be able to make his dream of owning a Quarter horse a reality by adopting a particular horse he’s had his eye on.
“I’ve watched him for almost a year now. I’m hoping no one has adopted him. I’ve talked to a guy with the Currituck Preservation Society a couple times about this horse. If Rags is still here, I think I’ll be able to get close to him this time. And if I can, he’s as good as mine.”
“Rags?”
“That’s his name. Rags and Apples.”
“You’ve already named him?”