Ellie
Ipress my hand against Camden’s chest and let out a surprised noise.
It sounds a lot like a moan because one, Camden is a really,reallygood kisser.
His lips are soft and firm. His tongue teases gently against the seam of my mouth, coaxing it open. I hum at the wetness, how warm and inviting he is.
And two, because I can’t get over just how incredible his body feels against me.
Camden kisses with his whole body. It’s not just his mouth that’s making me dizzy and giddy. It’s the way he cups my face with his massive hand, so gentle and firm all at once.
With his other hand, he holds my waist, pulling me against him.
I press my palm against his chest. He issolid. His muscles feel like they’re made of stone.
My brain thinks of those marble statues of Greek and Roman gods. Chiseled and rock hard, every single muscle etched in perfect detail.
I wonder how close Camden’s body is to one of those statues. Even under the thick fabric of his suit, I can tell he’s ripped.
His tongue laps against mine, softly, slowly. Like he’s licking an ice cream cone. Like he’s savoring the taste of me.
A soft pulse lands between my legs. It’s sudden and surprising—totally unexpected. I’ve never felt that sensationtherebefore. Ever.
When we break apart, I wobble slightly. Camden’s grip on my waist tightens, and he flashes an easy smile.
“Good?” he says in a soft voice.
I blink and nod, unable to speak words. That was…the best kiss I’ve had in my life.
Which isn’t saying much because I’ve only ever kissed one guy. It’s one of the side effects of being shy, sick, and busy working most of my life.
Still though. It doesn’t take away from the fact that this kiss with Camden was really damn hot.
I let out a shaky breath, just now hearing the cheers and applause around us. I look around and see a dozen people smiling at us, clapping. Some are filming us with their phones.
Nerves fire off inside of me like cannonballs. I’ve never liked being the center of attention. I’ve never liked being stared at.
Every muscle in my body twitches with the urge to scurry away, but I force myself to smile, just like Camden is. This is a good thing that people are seeing us and filming us. It means they’re buying us as a newlywed couple, which we need in order to make our marriage seem like the real thing.
Camden waves at the small crowd. I take in the easy, unbothered expression on his face. He looks so relaxed. Like he does this all the time. Like this isn’t a big deal to him at all.
Because to him, this isn’t a big deal, remember? He’s kissed a million women before you. That kiss that rocked your world? It’s a run-of-the-mill kiss for him.
Disappointment flashes through me, even though I know better. This is all for show. That kiss didn’t mean anything to him. And it shouldn’t to me either.
He takes my hand and leads me back down to the front office.
We fill out our marriage license, thank the officiant and witness, and turn in our paperwork. He grabs my hand in his and we walk out of the building.
“We’re married,” I say, still dazed.
He chuckles. “We are. Now it’s time to celebrate.”
I look over at him as we make our way down the stairs, confused.
He tilts his head at me, his mouth curved up in a cheeky smile. That dimple pops in his right cheek. “Come on now, Ellie. Did you really think I wouldn’t plan something special for my wife on our wedding day?”
“I can’t believe you got a reservation here.” I glance around at the dimly lit French restaurant in the Cherry Hill neighborhood of Denver that Camden brought me to. “One of the people I dog walk for said the reservations for this place book out more than four months.”
