Best Laid Plans. Rebecca Hunter
himself in and out of her mouth, thrusting deeper, while she stared up at him with those deep green eyes. Fuck.
Cameron gave himself a few last hard strokes and came with a loud groan. He collapsed back on his bed, panting. As the haze of pleasure faded, he shook his head and frowned. When was the last time he’d woken himself up like that? At least he should be able to lie back for a few more minutes of satisfaction. Instead he was restless. And irritable. And still thinking about her comment from the night before.
If I had known that one-night stands were this good, I would have started doing this a long time ago.
What the hell? One-night stands weren’t that good. In fact, Cameron couldn’t think of one that had come close. But when he opened his mouth to tell her, he’d stopped. If he said that the night went far beyond any one-night stand, then what? Starting today, he was supposed to keep his dick in his pants. There was no hope for a repeat performance. So he’d gotten dressed and walked out of the woman’s room instead.
He had told her he wanted her to remember it as the best night of her life. But by the time he left her, he’d reconsidered. If they were that good together on the first try, what would happen when they really started exploring each other?
No. That couldn’t happen. And he wasn’t about to ruin the memories of that night with sappy shit that didn’t matter anyway.
Cameron kicked off his covers, took a few long strides to the bathroom and slammed the door. He turned the shower on punishingly cold, hoping for a distraction. Because the more he thought about this no-women situation, the madder he got.
This PR bullshit the board had arranged was no longer just a nuisance. Last night it meant that he had had to walk away from the best sex in a long time. Maybe that woman was staying in Sydney for a while. Hell, maybe she even lived close by and they could have gone on fucking like that for days. Instead he was making a mess of himself in his boxers right before going to meet with that fucker Jackson McAllister.
Screw Harlan Blackmore and his board. This was the last straw. He had been waiting for the right moment to take control away from them for years, and this was it. His grandfather had built this business years ago to give veterans from his unit a purpose after the Vietnam War. It was the bond of the teams that made his grandfather’s business strong, not the latest PR. Okay, so his team may have gotten a little careless with their public image, but hiring a babysitter to shadow and report on Cameron smacked of his father’s dirty tactics. Harlan had latched on to this situation and intervened as a show of force. There wasn’t too much bad press at this point. Wouldn’t a warning from the board have sufficed? Then Cameron could’ve dealt with his team on his own terms. He needed to show his father and the board just how far up their asses their heads were. And the best way to do that would be to send Jackson McAllister home looking like an idiot.
He shut off the water and toweled off, then he strode into his walk-in closet and reached for a pair of jeans. One leg into them, he stopped and cursed. Probably should wear a suit for this meeting.
By the time he climbed the dock off his building, he still wasn’t thinking clearly. His boat floated peacefully in its berth. Maybe a good fast ride across the harbor would help. Buying that boat was the best decision he’d made since he moved to Sydney. No crowds, no traffic, everything in sight. Those trips across the water every day were the few moments he didn’t have to be on guard. Cameron nodded at the captain and took a seat. He enjoyed this type of travel...and he knew from his army days there were worse ways to get around. Hell, after the plane crash he’d been through, no one could fault him for being picky in that regard.
He pushed those thoughts aside.
If he’d learned anything in the military, it was just how much better things went with a clear plan. And judging from the start of his morning, he was in no state to come up with a good one. But in this pissy mood, any plan was better than none. As the boat passed under the Harbour Bridge, he sent an email to his team. Tonight at dinner they’d figure out Jackson McAllister’s weak spots. Tomorrow they’d figure out how to use them.
But planning didn’t help. When he walked through the glass doors into the Blackmore Inc. office, his mood was just as dark.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackmore.”
He bit out a greeting to Chloe, the receptionist, and headed for his office.
“Mr. Blackmore,” she called after him. “Jackson McAllister is waiting for you in the small conference room.”
He grunted but didn’t turn around. What the hell? The guy wasn’t supposed to be there for another thirty minutes. Cameron changed direction and headed straight for the conference room. He was going to have to tell that fuckwit to come back later.
He burst through the door and came to a full stop. In one of the chairs he saw a woman, not a man. The rear of a woman, to be specific, turned away, bending over a mess of papers on the floor. What the—
“Sorry. Just a moment,” came a voice from under the round table.
A voice that awakened his entire body. He gave himself a little shake. What the fuck was going on?
“I got the time mixed up...” The woman rose with a pile of papers and turned. And froze.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Damn.”
It was her. The hot-as-hell woman. His body had known the moment she spoke, and now his mind finally registered it. Her lips were pale, not red, and she was wearing glasses, but this only added to her appeal. She had her long, silky hair up in a bun. He already knew the feeling of a fistful of that hair, and he had gotten himself off to what those lips would look like around his—
“What are you doing here?” he barked.
The words came out as more of an accusation than a question. Lust must have short-circuited his brain because he still couldn’t figure out how the hell this woman had ended up at his office building.
But as he glared across the room at her, all the wonder disappeared from her expression. She took off her glasses and blinked at him a couple times before putting them back on. She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together into a tight smile. She stood up and stuck out her hand for a handshake.
“Jackson McAllister,” she said. “The board warned me about your growling.”
Cameron screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. He opened his eyes again, but nothing changed. The same woman was still glaring at him.
“What the hell?” he whispered. “You’re not a man.”
Jackson dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows. “I think you and I already established that last night, Mr. Blackmore,” she said drily. “And you’re supposed to have a beard.”
So... She was Jackson McAllister. The person the board had sent to rein in him and his team. Or try to. And he had already given her an eye-opening welcome. Cameron rubbed his temples.
“But Jackson’s a man’s name,” he muttered to himself.
She shook her head slowly. “Why do I feel like I’m back in elementary school?”
“I’m long past elementary school, Ms. McAllister,” he snapped. “I think we established that last night, too.”
Her face betrayed no emotion, but a deep flush crept up her neck. Which brought him right back to the place his mind absolutely should not go now. The last time those cheeks reddened like that was—
Shit. What was he supposed to do now? Pull out a chair for her all gentleman-like? Ignore the fact that he had just had mind-bending sex with her less than twelve hours ago? He huffed out a breath and sank into his own chair at the table.
He crossed his arms and leaned back, scrambling to get a handle on the situation. Wait. He’d had no idea who she was last night, but had she known who he was? Was this part of some larger scheme to “tame” him? He nearly snarled at the thought. It sure as hell hadn’t felt that way. And when he walked into the