Her eyes search mine in a way that makes it harder to keep every thought contained. “You don’t have to fix the world, Cam.”
I shift closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough that she can feel the truth in my voice. “I know.”
What I don’t say—what she probably hears anyway—is that I’m not trying to fix everything. I’m trying to take care of her, even when she won’t let me admit it.
“Cam,” she says quietly.
“Yeah?”
Her gaze lifts to mine. “You’re staring again.”
I don’t pretend otherwise. “Hard to look anywhere else.”
Her breath slips out, barely there, and her fingers toy with the hem of her shirt as if she’s fighting the urge to close the gap. “Cam…”
I reach up and thread my hand into her hair, letting the strands slide across my knuckles. “You’re beautiful, Katie.”
That does it. She rises toward me, closing the space with a certainty that hits me straight in the chest.
There’s a new edge to the kiss, like she’s claiming something. Her lips moving against mine in a way that tells me she’s been wanting this just as badly. She cups my jaw, drawing me deeper, and my hand settles at her waist, fingers gliding beneath the fabric, each inch of contact burning hotter than the last.
She shifts closer until her thigh brushes mine, her palm sliding to the back of my neck. Her mouth opens under my next kiss, and the quiet sound she releases pulls something fierce out of me. I kiss the corner of her mouth, then the line of her lower lip, earning another soft, unguarded reaction that I want to hear again and again.
This isn’t new territory, yet everything about it feels changed. There’s no rush, no scramble. When she finally eases back, her cheeks are flushed.
“You’re trouble,” she says, voice low.
I brush my thumb along her jaw, savoring the warmth there. “You’re the reason for it. I can’t quite control myself around you.”
A laugh slips from her, muffled as she leans into my collar. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Not taking it back.”
The smile fades from her face, replaced by something raw—hope, fear, want, all tangled together. And in that expression, I see every reason I can’t stay away from her.
I lower my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “I want you, Katie.”
Her fingers tighten against my shirt. “Then take me, Wells.”
And that’s all the permission I need.
Chapter seven
Cam
We’re tangled on the couch, her lips bruising mine with every kiss. She’s trying to stay in control, like always—like this is just stress relief, just a favor between friends. But I know her tells. The way she sighs when I bite her bottom lip. The way her hips roll when I press my palm between her thighs.
She wants this. Wants me.
“Bedroom,” she pants, already pushing off the couch with a determination that fires straight through me.
I follow, my cock hard enough that it’s painful. She crosses the room ahead of me, hips moving, guiding me to the bedroom. She reaches the nightstand, rifling through it with impatient movements—hair a mess around her face, cheeks flushed, focussharp enough to cut through every ounce of restraint I thought I had.
She finds what she wants and tosses the condom onto the mattress without even glancing my way. “You’ve got forty-five minutes before I have to leave for Evie.”
A grin tugs at my mouth as I work my belt open, the metal clicking under my fingers. “That’s more than enough time.” Her eyes meet mine as she walks around the bed toward me. Then the command forms before I can second-guess it. “On your knees, Katie.”
She stops in front of me and drops instantly, the shift so fluid it spikes something hot and possessive in my chest. Her hands work at my waistband, tugging my jeans down with eager movements. Then her mouth is on me—warm and consuming—and the world narrows to the pressure of her tongue and the way she takes me deeper with each stroke. One hand grips my thigh, her nails digging in, grounding me; the other wraps around the base of my cock, guiding, making me harder with every stroke.
