One Perfect Night Page 11

  Always she’d looked upon sex as something to be shared with the one you adore, as a precursor to bigger things—love, marriage, babies. But Tim had stolen that dream from her for the time being and she needed to heal. She needed to be a woman first and foremost while recovering from her tragic loss.

  This time she pulled back from him. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

  Yes. Cameron felt like a teenage boy who’d just kicked a winning goal. He wanted to yell and yank his fist through the air in victory. He couldn’t wait to take Penelope to her bed and begin to sate some of the sexual frustration that had been building up since leaving her flat on Christmas morning.

  Dancing with her had been sinfully sweet and his mind had rocked with all the things he’d like to do with her. Her body had molded into his, her lips parting and her eyes all dazzling and dreamy, telling him she felt the buzz as hard and desperately as he did. But she was an employee. If he looked at this logically it was probably best to forget they’d shared the most mind-blowing, euphoric, uninhibited sex of his life. Best but not damn possible. Since Christmas Eve his sleep had been even more disturbed than usual…only this time the disruptions weren’t nightmares reliving times he’d rather forget. This time they’d been near wet dreams and the responsibility for his fatigue lay wholly at the dainty feet of Penelope Grant.

  She’d gotten under his skin like no woman before and it’d freaked him out so much he’d been determined to forget her. He’d driven past her apartment block in Manly twice and managed to resist the urge to pay her a visit. But that was all before. Before he knew the woman who’d hijacked his hormones and kick-started his libido after a prolonged dry spell was actually one of his voice talents.

  Now that he had this knowledge, ignoring or forgetting her was not possible. Instead he’d had to reassess the situation. If he could just get her out of his system, then life could resume as normal. Or as normal as it would ever be now.

  Tightening his grip on her hand, he took a breath and started toward the underground car park.

  Chapter Eight

  Peppa glanced sideways and caught Cameron’s dangerous smile as he stopped his car in front of her apartment building. “We’re here,” he stated.

  “So we are.” And right now, she wanted nothing more than to climb over the gear box onto his lap and begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her memory was crystal clear—she didn’t even have to close her eyes to recall the hard planes of his chest and his soft skin, speckled with just an arousing amount of dark hair. But she didn’t want memories. She wanted the real thing.

  “Come here.” As if reading her mind, his hands captured hers and he hauled her across the seat into his lap. She wasn’t straddling him, but she could clearly feel the evidence of his desire pressing into the side of her thigh. Her insides melted as the hunger within exploded. His lips crashed against hers. His hands roamed up and over her back, caressing her shoulders, her neck, her earlobes, every available inch of bare skin.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, pulling back slightly. “But are you sure you want to do this?”

  A streetlamp splashed gentle light over his gorgeous face. Peppa didn’t need time to think about the answer. She wasn’t actually sure she had the choice.

  “Yes.” Grabbing him by the shirt-collar, she tugged his lips back against hers, back where they were meant to be. Right now she didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or next week, or how she’d feel when this “affair” had ended, she just wanted to feel. And how she felt whenever she was in his arms could be bottled and sold for millions.

  She felt his smile as his lips brushed teasingly against her ear. “You look tired.”

  Her body responded with a delicate shiver and a shake of her head. His hot breath made her feel anything but. “Not. At. All.”

  “Still,” he began in a mock-earnest tone, “I think the gentlemanly thing would be to take you in to bed.”

  Her lips curled at the dangerous thought. “And I thought chivalry was dead.”

  He spun her round and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. The wicked intent in his eyes was impossible to misread. “You’ve obviously been hanging with the wrong man, sweetheart.”

  “Obviously.” She had been hanging with the wrong man. Looking back it was obvious that Tim’s actions weren’t those of a man who’d loved her but she’d thought she’d loved him. She’d thought their happy future was set in stone. And her heart had felt as if it’d been shoved through a paper shredder the day he walked out.

  But Tim being wrong didn’t make Cameron Mr. Right. And as long as she kept this fact first and foremost in her mind, she could enjoy this liaison for what it was supposed to be. Red-hot fun with an absolute sex-god.

  She was still young; there was time enough for serious stuff later.

  Sex-god. Sex-god. Sex-god. Pushing all other thoughts into the ether, she leaned forward and opened the car door. “Ready for some coffee?”

  A broad grin cracked across his face. “Never been thirstier in my life.”

  Of course, when she pushed open her apartment door moments later, coffee was the farthest thing from either of their minds. The door slammed behind them and Cameron had her up against the wall, his hands slipping between the split in her dress in a matter of seconds. Her eyes adjusting to the pitch-black, an illicit thrill accelerated her pulse as his fingers skimmed upward and her lips collided with the rough skin at his jaw.

  She dropped hot urgent kisses on his neck, moved upward to meet his lips which devoured hers as if they’d been in a serious kissing drought. His fingers taking sensational liberties, he found the lace at her sex and traced a tantalizing line down her core. The blood rushed to her head and her legs felt as if they’d crumble any second. She felt for the collar of his shirt, clung to it for support. As if sensing her weakness, he pressed hard against her, pinning her between his concrete chest and the cool wall.

  “There’s too much clothing between us,” he growled.

  “My feelings exactly,” she panted.

  He pulled her forward a smidgeon and, one hand still dusting magic between her legs, his other hand sought the zipper of her gown.

  “Be careful,” she gasped. “This dress is on loan from a designer.”

  Not careful at all, he yanked the zip down and sucked in air as it fell to the ground. “I’ll pay for any damage but where’s the light switch? I’ve been fantasizing about removing that dress all night and now I’ve missed it. I’ll be damned if I don’t get to watch you come.”

  Standing in only her knickers and not feeling one iota of self-consciousness, she slid a hand across the wall. But when she flicked the switch, nothing happened. “It must have blown. There’s a lamp in the…”

  Her words were lost in another scintillating kiss. Her ability to think was lost as large, gifted hands cupped her breasts. He pulled back. “No bra. I love this dress. Forget about the lamp, we’ll utilize our other senses.”

  “Fine with me.” Peppa’s nose was already working overtime inhaling the crisp woody scent of his cologne but her hands were feeling left out. Her fingers already on his shirt, she made quick work of the buttons and tugged the garment off, appreciating his sculpted shoulders and tight six-pack stomach before trekking lower.

  His stomach muscles flexed as she fumbled with his belt buckle.

  “You unleash that and it’s all over,” he hissed.

  The words only spurred her to move more quickly. But the buckle was a toughie and not playing fairly, he whipped off her knickers in a flash-fast movement, before entering her willing wetness with one very talented finger. He found her weak spot immediately. Rubbing, caressing, stroking until she was a panting mess in his arms, barely able to breathe never mind rid him of his trousers.

  When she didn’t think her body could handle the pleasure any longer, when she began to shudder and shake and shriek his name, he kissed her firmly against the lips. He held her close while she floated back to earth and then, he tu
gged his trousers down, located a condom and with one deep thrust took them both to unchartered heights.

  Satisfied beyond anything he could recall, Cameron scooped Penelope into his arms as he walked farther into the house. Thank God for natural acclimatization to the dark, otherwise he’d be stumbling all over the place.

  “Where’d you say that lamp was?”

  “A couple more steps and I’ll be able to reach it.”

  But when she leaned over to switch it on, it was the same as the light switch. Realization dawned and they spoke at the same time. “A blackout.”

  “I’ve got candles in the bathroom.”

  “The bathroom, you say?” He clutched her even tighter, loving the feeling of her soft, nimble body in his arms. “That’s given me an idea.”

  “Oh?” He couldn’t see her face but he could tell a satisfied smile stretched across it. “Do tell.”

  “I can do better than that,” he said, turning toward the hall. “I can show. Now, where do you keep your matches?”

  “I’ll get them.” She wriggled as if trying to escape.

  Perhaps it would be quicker to let her find the box, but he wasn’t ready to put her down. “I’ll help.”

  Giggling, she directed him to the kitchen. He stubbed his toe on her tiny table but swallowed an expletive, held on tight and carried her toward the drawers. Matches retrieved, he didn’t waste any time getting them to the bathroom. Only moments after their first mind-shattering experience, he eased Penelope down his body onto the plush bathroom mat and reluctantly stepped back to allow her to light the candles. Once she’d lit a few, it was easy to see. A glow flickered over her skin in the warm, natural light highlighting every sumptuous curve.

  Needing a breather, he turned toward the bathtub and yanked on the taps. The candles burning brightly in pockets all over the room, Penelope came up behind him and poured something from a tiny brown bottle into the tub. The water bubbled beneath and an aromatic scent he couldn’t quite pinpoint fizzed up from the bath to infuse the air.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Essential oils. This one’s a relaxant.”

  He sniffed. “Lavender?” She nodded and he pulled her close. “I’ll never be able to smell lavender again without thinking of you.”

  Her face pressed against his chest, he felt her lips curl and his heart thudded. His admission scared him and he shouldn’t have said it out loud either. This could never be anything long-term and he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. “Let’s get in,” he said, trying to distract her.

  Pulling back but still holding his hand, Penelope dipped one toe into the scented water. He couldn’t help but admire the smooth skin, her slender thighs and taut calves that tapered into dainty feet adorned with pink-painted toenails. His body couldn’t help but respond.

  “You coming in?”

  “Just try and stop me.”

  Penelope slid into the water with a tiny plop, her breasts buoyant. Swallowing, he leaned one hand against the tiles and stepped in behind her. He sank into the warm paradise, pulling her adorable bottom between his legs, trying not to lose control as he wrapped his arms around her and dug in the water for a sponge. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. “Sorry the bath’s so tiny. Sorry about the electricity.”

  “Shhh.” He pressed his index finger against her wettened lips, then set to polish every inch of her silky skin. “Everything’s perfect.” He tried to block out the cells in his brain jumping up and down that everything about this situation was not in fact perfect, but deadly dangerous. The candles, the aromatherapy bath oil, the irresistible feel of silky hair cascading over his chest and the fact it was way past midnight and he didn’t want to leave.

  He blamed it on the power cut. “So, tell me more about Penelope Grant.”

  She let out a half laugh. “Well, for a start, you’re the only person aside from my dad who calls me Penelope.”

  “Really? How’d you get Peppa?”

  “My mum started calling me Peppa when I was two years old and apparently threw world-class tantrums. It kinda stuck and grew. I’m known for my temper.”

  He couldn’t help it—his hands delved lower as she spoke. “Is that right? I’ll try and remember not to get on the wrong side of you.”

  “The side you’re on right now is perfect.” They shared another intoxicating kiss. Strangely the bath water seemed to be getting hotter.

  “So what things are you known to get hot-headed over?” he asked when they finally came up for air.

  “Hmm.” She pursed her lips, then gushed, “People who drive too slowly. Waiters who don’t know anything about the food they’re serving. Men who say they don’t like cats just because they think it’s cool. Please tell me you’re not one of those?”

  “Actually, I quite like cats.” He cleared his throat. “I feed the little old lady’s cats next door whenever she goes to visit her daughter in New York.”

  “Really?” The pleasant surprise shone through.

  “Really,” he echoed. “So, what else?”

  “People who don’t recycle because they can’t be bothered. Women who don’t eat or play sports in front of the men they’re attracted to.”

  “Speaking of food, I’m famished. How about you?”

  “Now that you mention it…”

  Ten minutes later they sat, draped in large fluffy purple towels, in the middle of Penelope’s bed, a platter of chocolates, potato chips and other fattening delights in front of them. “Do you have a grocery store in your pantry?” he asked, unwrapping a chocolate ball before popping it into her mouth.

  She shook her head, gesturing to her mouth as if to say she’d speak when the chocolate was devoured.

  He waited, finding it strangely arousing watching her eat. Emotions played tug-of-war within him—on the one hand he could quite simply lean forward and taste his share of the chocolate, leading to more fabulous sex, but he was also really enjoying their conversation.

  Finally, “Most of this stuff was gifts from the children in my choir for Christmas. Eat up. I’ll never get through this alone.”

  They ate. They talked even more. They found, aside from the kid stuff, that they had far more common ground than they’d ever imagined. Cameron couldn’t believe she liked to rock climb. They’d both been crazy about roller-skating as kids and had roller-blades gathering dust in their wardrobes. They’d both read all the Harry Potter books on the day they’d been released. They’d both been to Bruges and thought it quaint, picturesque and far more romantic than the renowned Paris. There was never a lapse in conversation, never an uncomfortable moment. And when the platter was near empty, Cameron swept it off the bed and they made sweet, slow but equally satisfying love.

  Afterward for the first time ever Cameron felt a burning need to wrap himself around her and sleep as one until the sun woke them. A burning need he had to ignore because he knew the moment he surrendered to any form of sleep, human teddy bear or not, he’d be awoken with his usual night terrors. Glowering at the way he had no control over these attacks, he placed a kiss on Penelope’s neck and peeled back the sheet.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice slurred with sleepiness.

  “Home.”

  She turned over and although only a few candles still glimmered in the room, her frown was obvious. “You know you don’t have to. It’s almost dawn. Stay and get some rest. I’ll make breakfast worth it.”

  Breakfast sounded tempting but not nearly as much as her impish grin. As she moved, the sheet moved with her, alerting him to the treasures hidden beneath. His hand rushed to rub his forehead, a headache brewing. “I don’t sleep well,” he explained. “I’ll toss and turn and then get utterly distracted by your tempting beauty and you won’t get any sleep either. But, I’d like to see you later today. Do you have any plans?”

  “No.”

  “Then be ready at midday. I’ll pick you up.” He found his clothes, quick
ly dressed and when he turned back to say goodbye, she was already asleep. He dropped a kiss upon her forehead and made sure to lock her front door as he left.

  Peppa rolled over when she heard the front door click shut. She stared at her bedroom doorway as if the gaping hole would provide some answers. Pulling the sheets tighter around her body, she tried to ease the shivers that came at the loss of her cuddly human hot-water bottle. Tried to ease the disappointment that burgeoned at the loss of him.

  Cameron absconding straight after they’d had undeniably super sex was becoming a bit of a habit and she didn’t like it one bit. Fling or not, she was a woman who liked to cuddle and what was that garbage about not being able to sleep?

  It was four o’clock in the morning for goodness sakes; he’d been up for almost twenty-four hours and been very active for the last few of them. Anyone in his position could sleep. A little voice told her it was simply because he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea, because he didn’t want to get attached, but she didn’t buy that. If that were the case, he’d not have made another date so soon.

  He’d not have kissed her so tenderly when he thought she was asleep.

  No, there was definitely more.

  Cameron was hiding something. There was a part of him he didn’t want to share. What it had to do with sleep she had no idea.

  Unable to succumb to slumber herself, Peppa got up and made a hot chocolate, heating milk on her gas stovetop for the first time in as long as she could remember. As she brought the steaming mug to her lips, the light in the hallway flashed on, alerting her that the power had been fixed and sending a flood of heat through her body at the thought of what they’d done against that wall. She grinned and spilled some hot chocolate on the T-shirt she’d pulled on in a hurry.