He did. But I had a feeling he didn’t stop on my account. Inches from me. The smile on his face disappeared.
A lock of his coal-black hair fell silkily on the side of his face. My eyes followed its movement until it settled on his cheek. I couldn’t help as my gaze traveled from his cheek to his mouth, and I just…stared.
In the dark, under the soft glow of the porch light, his face was sinfully beautiful.
And then that smile appeared again. It was a knowing smile. An unapologetic, cocky smile.
My eyes shot up to his.
Boom.
I felt it. I felt it.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” he whispered in the same seductive voice. “Miss me already?”
I heard his words, but the signal connecting my ears to my brain was on airplane mode. My eyes and nose, on the other hand, had full bars of signal. LTE.
He must have been out for a run before he caught me trying to climb his fence. He was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, despite the cold, that molded to the contours of his body wonderfully. Mouthwateringly.
He smelled of male sweat and soap. An intoxicating combination.
He reached out, gently pushing my hair over my shoulder, but not before the tip of his finger grazed the sensitive skin on my neck.
I shivered. I felt a shock travel from where he touched me reverberate everywhere in my body.
And why are my lips tingling?
“Cold?” he asked.
I shook my head vehemently, and that same lock of hair slid over my shoulder again.
“Kara.”
It was almost…erotic. The way he said my name. The way his mouth formed the syllables.
“It suits you,” he murmured, twirling the ends of my hair around his finger. “I forgot to tell you mine.”
I already know it. Cam.
“Cameron,” he said when I didn’t answer.
Cameron.
My mouth seemed to be under construction again.
This was like our first meeting. This had never happened with anyone else. What was it about him?
It was the beautiful masculine face, I admitted grudgingly. There! I admitted it. I was attracted to the face and that was totally fine. I wasn’t going to do anything about it. It didn’t mean I liked him. It didn’t mean anything at all except that I was a healthy human being with an eye for beauty.
In defense, I put on my poker face. An emotionless face. If I couldn’t speak, fine, but he was not getting any reaction from me.
As if he heard my thoughts, a playful glint appeared in his eyes, and he asked, “How’s your stomach?”
It felt like a splash of cold water. I had this sudden urge to cover my face, run, or disperse my molecules into thin air. I glared at him instead.
Who the hell does he think he is to remind me of that mortifying experience?
I’m going to take you down! I vowed angrily, but then he said, “I know why you’re here.”