The Dare Collection July 2019. Nicola Marsh
poked her head out the first bedroom door. “My kingdom for some genuine fish and chips.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He left before he could think too hard about what Trish in the shower would be like. Her showering had almost been their downfall before, and Cameron knew himself well enough to know his self-control wouldn’t last through a third time of backing away from her. Better to avoid the temptation altogether by removing himself from the building.
He had no idea how they were supposed to get through the next few days without stepping all over each other. Challenging enough to be closeted in an office with her when they were able to retreat to their respective homes after hours. But being together 24-7 in the same workplace, the same hotel suite?
The odds of keeping his hands off her were not in his favor.
Cameron took his time walking down to the lobby and waylaid the bellhop to get recommendations for places with good fish and chips. The nearest one the guy recommended was more than a few blocks, but after being cramped in the plane for so long, he welcomed the chance to stretch his legs.
And it would ensure Trish had plenty of time to shower and get dressed again before he returned.
Satisfied he’d made the right call, he lengthened his stride and put some distance between himself and the siren call Trish Livingston represented.
* * *
Trish took her time in the shower, washing away the grit of traveling. She’d chosen the room with the smallest bed—Cameron needed more space than she did, after all—and it had the added bonus of the better bathroom. There was a claw-foot tub big enough to hold a party in and the shower wasn’t exactly orgy-sized, but it was generous for the square footage.
She shut off the water and wrapped a towel around herself. The fluffy fabric slid luxuriously against her skin, drawing out a shiver. Sitting next to Cameron on the plane had her all pent-up and needy. Even after the shower, she was sure she could smell the evergreen soap he used. Her body responded accordingly, skin going tight, nipples pebbling, the spot between her thighs increasingly achy.
God, she wanted him.
Trish padded to the door to her room and peeked out. The suite was silent and empty. She had no idea how long Cameron had been gone—or when he’d be back. A thrill went through her at the thought. I shouldn’t risk it. But on the heels of that, her innate stubbornness kicked in. That only makes it hotter.
She shut her door and tossed the towel over the low-backed chair situated by the window. Naked, she slipped between the sheets and stretched out. It wouldn’t take long. She’d been halfway there since she woke up surrounded by him. It didn’t matter that they’d been in separate seats and he’d barely touched her. Trish was so damn primed, all it would take was his breathing on her clit and she’d come screaming.
Her toes curled as she cupped her breasts, pretending it was his hands there. Not rough. Certainly not gentle. A firm touch. A freaking perfect touch.
It’s not perfect because it’s not the real thing.
She didn’t care. She’d come too far to go back now.
Trish rolled one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and ran her other hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. A moan slipped free as she pushed a single finger into herself. She arched her back, letting the sheets slide down to reveal her breasts. It didn’t matter that no one could see her. She felt watched, and that was enough to send her skirting along the edge of a truly great orgasm.
Imagining it was Cameron’s eyes on her?
She circled her clit once, twice, a third time, and as she came, she moaned his name aloud. “Oh my God, Cameron.” Her orgasm rolled over her, bowing her back and she could have sworn she heard him murmuring her name. Pleasure-induced hallucination, for sure.
Except when Trish opened her eyes, she wasn’t alone in her room.
Cameron stood in the doorway, his hand still raised as it must have been when he knocked. The door hadn’t even swung open all the way, but there was no way he’d missed the tail end of that self-love session. Especially not the part where she’d moaned his name as she came.
Shit.
She sat up, thought about clutching the sheet to her chest and gave it up as a lost cause. He’d already seen the goods—more than once at this point. The only person who’d seen her naked so many times without there actually being sex involved was her freaking doctor. And Trish didn’t want to sleep with her doctor.
Cameron didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Didn’t seem to so much as breathe.
There was no brazening her way out of this situation. She didn’t know who’d cursed her that she seemed to be destined to perpetually humiliate herself in front of Cameron, but it was time to face the music.
She met his gaze directly. “I don’t suppose you missed any of that?”
“You said my name when you came.” His voice was deeper than normal, and each word rumbled in the pit of her stomach. Lower. “I’ve tried to stay away from you, Trish.”
“I know.”
“You’re making it fucking impossible.”
Was this... Could this actually be happening?
She couldn’t go to him. She’d already thrown herself at him too many times for her pride to survive yet another rejection. Trish licked her lips, half-convinced she could taste him there despite weeks passing since their last kiss. “Maybe it’s time to try something new, then.” Try me. Touch me. Fuck me.
He stepped into her room. He moved slowly, seeming to weigh her every breath as if testing her resolve. Little did he know it took everything she had to keep perfectly still and wait for him to approach the bed instead of flinging herself at him.
“Cameron,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He matched her tone.
Her next words would either push them over the edge or yank them back to safety. She knew what the smart choice would be, but Trish had been making the smart choice for her entire life and look where it got her—nowhere near the path she’d always thought she’d walk. It was time to try something new. She drew in a shallow breath. “Touch me.”
He reached down and grabbed a fistful of the blankets covering the bed. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I know.” No point in arguing. It was the truth. “Do it anyway.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You’re sure.”
Not a question, but she wanted no chance of miscommunication. If they were sprinting past the point of no return, they would do it together with eyes wide-open. “I’m sure.”
He drew the blankets from the bed in an agonizingly slow movement. The sensation of sheets sliding down her body had her biting her bottom lip, but the forbidding look in his dark eyes kept her still and silent, unwilling to do anything to break the spell.
“Show me.”
Trish stopped breathing. “What?”
“You were imagining me. Us. Tell me what you pictured.” He didn’t move from his spot at the end of the bed, just out of reach. “Show me how you touched yourself.”
She should be embarrassed. Humiliated. But being on display for him set her aflame. She was so close to having what she wanted...
This is exactly what I wanted.
Cameron’s eyes on me.
She shifted until she was on her back and resumed the position she’d been in when this all started. With him watching, she cupped her breasts. “You touched me here. Made my toes curl.”
“Mmm.” His appreciative