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At the threshold to the bathroom, I hesitate. But why? Cameron is open, honest, and most endearing is the way he accommodates my wishes.
With my back toward him, I gather some courage. “Um…Cameron? What if I changed my mind? About waiting?”
“Waiting for wh—oh!” He gently turns me to face him.
While he scrutinizes me, questions swirl in my mind. What is he thinking? What does he see when he looks at me? Why does he—
He cups my cheek. “I need to know if your change of heart is because of the accident.”
I glance away to evaluate my answer. “Maybe?”
He sighs and releases me.
“But seeing you injured isn’t the whole reason, I swear. So many times just the thought of you causes me to burn, but I know I can’t put out the fire on my own.” I grab his hand and search his eyes, silently pleading for his understanding.
He squeezes my hand, but I know before he opens his mouth he won’t give me what I want this time. “Your response tells me that you still aren’t ready. Don’t run, I’m not done,” he says when I turn away. “I’ll help you, but we need to assess the damage from the storm first.”
“You don’t play fair. How am I supposed to last until then? I honestly can’t decide if you’re a sadist or a masochist.”
“After the last few days together, I wonder that about myself, too. But look on the bright side.” With a devilishly wicked smile, he presses me against the doorframe.
The towel separating us can’t conceal his reaction and I don’t try to hide mine.
“Bright side?” I say breathlessly.
“All this waiting will make what I have in store for you worthwhile.”
This time his kiss is full of sinful promises, a gentle assault that persuades me to open and receive him in any manner he chooses. When he separates from me, his taste lingers on my tongue and his scent lives in my nose. Regret weighs my feet as I enter the shower to wash his smell away.
* * *
The soft breezeleft by the storm mocks the devastation lying in its wake. Downed trees obstruct the road leading to my house, cutting us off from my neighbors and anyone able to help. One palm tree rests haphazardly against the power lines which explains why the power is still out. Scattered palm fronds, leaves, and torn bushes litter my driveway and the street.
“Cleaning up this place will take a few days.” Cameron hands me a rake while he tackles the larger debris.
“So will the emergency crews. The town center will be the priority before they make it out to the residential areas. In the meantime, please don’t strain yourself. You’re still injured.”
Cameron wraps his arm around my waist and hauls me into his heat. “I have the best incentive to ensure I won’t overdo it.” He leans toward me and I await his kiss in breathless expectation.
He bypasses my lips. His breath fans my cheek. A surge of electricity shoots from my ear to my loins as he nibbles my earlobe. I clutch his shirt to keep my balance. At my moan, he releases me but I’m not free from his touch, nor the arousing sight of banked flames illuminating his green eyes.
“Thanks for the, um, motivational speech.” I clear my throat, marveling that the whimper I’m holding inside hasn’t escaped.
He leaves me to haul a branch half as wide as he is and almost as tall. The muscle play along his back and arms roots me to the spot. Already experiencing aftereffects from his little demonstration earlier, the added visual causes sparks to zing through my blood.
I shake my head to clear my mind. With so much work left to do, I set to my task with renewed vigor, determined to get to the good stuff sooner rather than later.
Hours later, sweat drenched, dirty, and aching from using underdeveloped muscles, I stumble inside the house. Jackpot, who’s gotten her gumption back up and comes out of hiding to greet me at the door. I lean over to scoop her up, but she glares at me and darts away from me. She’s probably needs more time to get over my betrayal from last night.
Why does my furry bundle begrudge my five minutes of self-indulgence? She saw Cameron. How sexy he looked while helping me protect the house, his irresistible aura that had me panting with need even before my family left. I refuse to let Jackpot guilt trip me into regretting those moments in his arms.
Jackpot’s surly behavior reminds me that some time ago I lost track of Cameron. He must have gone to assess the damage in the bungalow. I consider joining him but my weary body demands a soak. And with Jackpot’s judgmental glower piercing me from the other side of my house, I hightail it upstairs.
When I enter the bathroom, Cameron’s kneeling profile greets me. Beside him are six large pots. Steam floats above the surface.
“What’s going on?” I step inside to investigate.
“I used the gas range to heat some water so you won’t have to take another cold shower.”
