Someone had bought my painting.
I was an artist. A real artist whose work someone wanted to own. God, I could cry with excitement.
CAM
Icut the engine and sat there for a second, just looking at her. Christ, she looked radiant. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted.
“You were amazing tonight.”
She turned to me, her lips curved in a soft smile. “Thank you.”
My eyes dropped to her mouth. I was desperate to kiss her. I’d wanted to kiss her all night, but now, alone in the darkness of my truck, the want was almost painful. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
My voice was low, rough, and something shifted in her expression. She took a sharp breath, her gaze dropping to my mouth and staying there. I saw the exact second she made the choice. The moment she decided to stop overthinking and just let go.
Her pupils dilated, dark and heavy with want, and then she was unbuckling her seatbelt, moving with a decisiveness that made my pulse spike.
She climbed into my lap, straddling me, her hands sliding up my chest to my shoulders. “Cam,” she whispered, making me shiver.
My hands settled lightly at her hips, letting her know she could stop any time she wanted to.
The first touch of her lips was soft, tentative, like she was givingmethe chance to escape. But escaping was the last thing on my mind, so I kissed her harder, letting her feel my hunger. She made a small sound in the back of her throat that went straight through me.
She tasted like the champagne she’d been sipping at the gallery, and something sweeter underneath. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan against her mouth. She pressed closer, and I tightened my grip on her, holding her to me like she might disappear if I let go.
Her hips rocked against mine and I dragged my hands up her thighs, under the soft fabric of her dress. Skin. Warm, smooth skin. She gasped into my mouth when my fingers reached the tops of her thighs, and I pulled her against me. My cock strained against my zipper, already rock hard, and she felt every inch of it.
I needed more.
More of her, more of this, more of everything. My palms slid higher, cupping her ass, pulling her so tightly against me that I felt the heat between her legs through our clothes. She broke the kiss with a moan, her forehead dropping to my shoulder as I ground up into her.
I kissed her neck, biting gently at her pulse point. “Jesus, Emily,” I muttered against her skin.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed down on me, slow and deliberate, like she was testing her own courage.
She arched her back, lost in it, and hit the steering wheel with a solid thunk.
She froze.
Fuck that.
I reached down, found the lever, and reclined us back in one smooth motion. Her body dropped with me, never breakingcontact, and suddenly we were horizontal, her weight pressing me into the seat, chest to chest, heat to heat.
Her breath caught. One hand braced on the headrest above my shoulder, the other still tangled in my hair.
For a second, she just stared at me, eyes wide, like she was trying to figure out what happened. What we were doing. Whether she should stay or bolt.
In all the weeks of fooling around together, I’d never seen her come. Now I was desperate to, yearned for it with every molecule in my body. But if I wasn’t careful, she’d make the same decision she’d made every other time. She’d leave.
Knowing this, I slid my hands back to her hips, slow and deliberate, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t. Thank fuck.
Instead, she settled more fully onto me, her weight pressing me deeper into the seat.
“Keep going,” I whispered, my thumbs stroking small circles against her hip through her dress. “Just like that, Em.”
She hesitated. Just for a breath.
