Slow Summer Burn: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (11 page)

“You okay?” he said, so close she could feel his lips move. She was filled to the brim, with no capacity for anything but him. She inhaled, breathing in his scent of sea and man and arousal.

“Yes,” she said, not caring anymore about the burn or the ache. “Yes.” And kissed him back. “Please don’t stop.” He shifted, pressing deeper into her. It felt good, so she moaned, a low sound deep in her throat.

“You’re killing me, Cam,” he groaned, sliding a hand to her hips.

Then he began to move, for real this time, sliding in and out in a rhythm that started slow and then accelerated. Each time he touched some secret spot inside her body, pleasure coiled in her core. Desire, which had been resting on a plateau, began to increase—slowly at first, then faster. Val was practically slamming into her now, leaving her breathless. She couldn’t get her bearings—the sensations were overwhelming—and suddenly, she became aware of a different kind of pressure, insistent and dark, tickling at the edges of her consciousness. And then it grew, higher and hotter and harder until she thought she would burst. Instead of fighting or thinking, she simply embraced it, giving herself over and focusing by trying to keep up with him, thrust
for thrust.

Without warning, she shattered around him, her back arching as she went into a free-fall. His hand tightened on her hips as he thrust into her one last time before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her cry as the aftershocks hit her.

She was still shuddering from her release when he carefully withdrew, wrapped her up in his arms, and covered them with a sheet. When another involuntary shudder came, he stroked the skin on her shoulder, smoothing it with his hand until she’d calmed completely.

Nestled in tightly next to him, she lifted her gaze. As always, he was watching her.

“Val, I—” She stopped and swallowed, not knowing what to say.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Just stroked her hair, right at her temple. “You
are
a surprise,” he said. Then he covered her mouth with his. His kiss was warm, deep, and gentle. Achingly perfect.

Soul-stealing
.

Chapter 10

Cameron awoke in her bed. Usually, she was a bit sluggish in the morning, but not today. Today, the moment she opened her eyes, everything seemed clearer. Crisper. And she knew why. For only the second time in her life, she’d gone after what she wanted. Granted, it was something Clarissa, not to mention the rest of her family, would never approve of, but at the moment, she really didn’t care. She was being true to herself, and for now, that was what counted.

Funny, when she’d opened her own business, she’d done so with a lot of qualifications and excuses.

“It’s a hobby,” Clarissa had proclaimed, and Cameron hadn’t disagreed, even though she thought of her store as much more than that. Even then, she realized, she’d been playing by the rules—somewhat. She’d gone into trade, but it was still
the arts
. At least the way Clarissa had framed it.

But the man lying next to her, one long arm draped over her waist, was the only thing besides her work that she’d ever chosen for herself. No excuses for why she’d done it, other than that she’d wanted to. And Lord, she’d wanted to!

She turned to her side to get a good look at Val. In sleep, he looked more relaxed, less intense, no doubt due to the fact that his eagle eyes were closed. The thin morning light hit at just the right angle to emphasize his prominent cheekbones, slight shadows coloring the hollows underneath. He was lean, but muscular—from his biceps to his pectorals to his abdominals. There was a thin scar low on his left side. A few veins bulged under the flesh on his forearms, and a little trail of black hair led from his belly button down, then disappeared under the covers. She sighed, sorely tempted to pull away the covers. Knowing what lay underneath, she’d never be able to look at him clothed in the same way again.

Just then, Val opened his eyes.

“Morning,” he said.

“Hi,” she responded. “Sleep well?”

He reached for her, pulling her close. “Yeah,” he said, before kissing her on the mouth. “Like what you see?”

She traced the lines around his mouth. “I think you know that I do.” Capturing her hand in his, he pulled back and studied her for a long moment, his brows furrowing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said.

“Like what?”

“Like … I don’t know … maybe like you’d rather be somewhere else right now.” Before he could answer, she went on. “Because in case you were wondering, I don’t make a habit of doing this kind of thing. But I’m not going to apologize for it.” Silence. “I don’t feel guilty, either. I feel amazing. And I don’t care
what
anyone thinks.”

He was still quiet, but this time she didn’t try to fill the void. Just waited until he was ready. Finally, he spoke.

“You finished?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“No one’s asking you to feel guilty or apologize, Cam. Somebody did a number on you. Your mom?” He studied her. “Yeah, I saw the way you kept looking at her the night of the Kirkland Awards, checking her reaction to everything you did.”

“I can’t hide anything from you,” she murmured, feeling heat licking her cheeks.

He ran his fingers through her hair and stroked her temple with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s the truth,” she said, compelled to be honest with him.

“Still, you don’t have to explain yourself like that to me, and I shouldn’t have forced it from you. But you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you did everything right. Last night? That was all you, Cam,” he said, his eyes smoldering. “All. You. And in case I’m not being clear enough, there is nowhere else I’d rather be right now than in this bed, with you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She pushed back against them. “Show me,” she said, and Val reached for her.

Val had never wanted anyone so much in his life. This beautiful woman was even more real than he’d imagined. All this time, he’d simply glossed over her, not really knowing who she was, believing she was some fake socialite. And all this time, she’d been waiting right under his nose.

She had both arms around his neck now and one leg over his hip, pressing her body as close as possible to his. With a firm hand on her ass, he pulled her even closer. Panties. She was
wearing panties and a bra, flimsy, lacy little things she must have put on to sleep in. He wanted them gone. Wanted nothing between them. He nearly tore them off.

One of her hands was still around his neck, and the other was drifting down his chest, lower and lower. He flipped her onto her back, captured both her wrists in one hand, and held them over her head.

“Val,” she breathed. “What—”

“I didn’t get to see you last night,” he said. “I want to.”

“Yes. If you’ll let me return the favor after.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want, Cam.”

“Nobody calls me Cam,” she said. “Except you.”

Good
.

He let her wrists go, and then with infinite care, he smoothed his hands over her body—over all that creamy skin, firm, high breasts, gorgeously flared hips, and legs that went on for miles. He kissed her everywhere, too. The arch of her foot. The inside of her thigh. The palm of her hand.

When he kissed her shoulder blade, she shivered. Then he bent his head to her breast and sucked, twisting the other nipple in time with the flicks of his tongue. When he had her panting, he trailed his fingers down her stomach and parted her folds. She was wet, but he wanted her dripping. His mouth followed his fingers down.

“Val!” she cried, hands curling into the sheets as he laved her core.
Yes
. This was how he wanted her. His society princess, stripped bare, undone. Just her at her essence, raw and real. And then he slipped a finger inside and she exploded, back arching, as he held her hips down.

When she’d calmed, he started all over again.

By the time he’d dragged her up the peak once again, her panting and moaning, he could barely breathe, he was so aroused. It was all he could do to pull on a condom and inch his way inside her. God, it was agony, she was still so tight. He wanted to go slow, to wait for her, but she pressed the heel of her foot into his ass to get him to move.

So move he did, the agony morphing into ecstasy as he stroked, deeply and firmly into her body. She was gasping his name into his ear, her refined voice begging him, urging him, the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. He forced himself to hold on, to see to her pleasure first. She was fast; all it took was the sweep of his thumb over her most sensitive spot and she went off. A
second later he was there himself, hurtling over the edge into oblivion.

“That was intense,” Cameron said, her voice echoing in the still of the room. She was lying on her back, the covers pulled up to her chest, her hair spread out around her head in a dark nimbus.

“Yeah,” Val said, shifting a bit, trying to recover from their second round.

“Tell me something,” she said, still looking at the ceiling. “About you.”

“What do you want to know?” His life wasn’t exactly an open book, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, he wanted to open it for her.

Cameron shifted onto her side and looked at him expectantly. “Whatever you want to tell me.”

“Why don’t you tell me something first,” he said. “Like how you got hooked up with this place.”

“Hermione Alcott is an old family friend.” She smiled. “I’ve known her all my life. Three years ago, she invited me out here to help refurnish the main house—spruce it up a bit. I was thrilled. It was my first big sale. But she did something else for me she might not have realized—she showed me Star Harbor, and I just fell in love. When I thought about opening my second store, I realized that Star Harbor was the perfect place. Then, when I started looking for a place to stay when I was in town, she mentioned this cottage wasn’t in use. I know she’s letting me have it for way less than it’s worth. I owe Mrs. Alcott a lot.” She paused. “Want to know the best thing about this place?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“This.” Cameron sat up in the bed and the sheets slipped from her torso. Val got a prime view of her outrageous body—all lines and curves—before she flipped around and reached up to the window above the bed. Deftly, she flicked open the lock and pushed up. She breathed in once, very deeply, before lying back down on the bed. “Just listen,” she said. So he did. To the sounds of the surf hitting the sand, the seabirds calling out as they searched for food, the wind blowing through the tall beach grass. “Isn’t it heavenly?”

“Yeah. Sounds like home.”

She looked over to him. “To me, it sounds like freedom.”

“Freedom,” he said, slipping an arm under her neck and pulling her near. The word was almost foreign to him. He’d never had a life free of obligation, of duty. And it had come at his
own expense. Why, even now, lying here with her, he was thinking about her connection to the Kirklands and what she might know about the congressman’s illegal activities. He’d been doing a decent job keeping his work life and his personal life separate, but sometimes when he least expected, the work crept into his consciousness. His work would always be there, but he wanted Cameron for
herself
, not for what she could do for him. And he wanted her to see the real him—not the façade he put up for everyone else.

“My parents died when we were young,” he found himself saying. “We all grew up fast, but I think I grew up the fastest, helping to take care of my brothers, making sure they didn’t get in over their heads. I tried my best, but I was just a kid myself.”

“I think you did great. Just look at everything they’ve accomplished.”

He stared at her. “Where did you come from, Cam?”

“Beacon Hill,” she said with a smile.

He just shook his head and she laughed.

“I have no experience with growing up fast. My parents would have been happier if I’d never grown up at all,” she said. “They’re still trying to control every move I make. It’s amazing I know how to do anything more than just dress up and go to social events.”

“Why do you know how to—”

“Use a power tool? Run a business?”

“Yeah. That.” He was going to say
be a normal person
.

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging her elegant shoulders. “Because I wanted it, I guess. Because deep down, I realize that while I had every advantage, it’s not the healthiest way to live.”

“You have a lot of insight for someone so young.”

“I’m twenty-seven.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

“No.” He could see her mind working as she did the math. “Yes. Wow. You
are
thirty-five.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Should it be?”

“I guess not.”

“Then it’s not.”

“You think you’re too old, don’t you,” she said, a little smile creeping on her lips.

“Maybe I am.”
For you
.

“You’re not.” She glanced at the clock by her bedside. “Ten-fifteen. I still have an hour before I have to get dressed for work. Are you good?”

“Yeah.” And he was. Typically, Val was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy. If he was supposed to be in Boston, he’d head up the night before so he could be in the office at eight-thirty A.M. In Star Harbor, even on weekends, he kept the same hours. It was unusual for him to be in bed past seven, but today, he found he didn’t mind in the least.

“Well, you owe me a good, long look at you.” She smoothed the palm of her hand down his bare chest. “So I’m going to look. And then, old-timer,” she said with a sly smile, “I’m going to show you how much fun you can have with a younger woman.”

Chapter 11

“Well?” Val asked as they stepped through the front door to the restaurant into a wall of color, sound, and light. “Opening night at the Schoolhouse. What do you think?”

For a moment, Cameron stood there, slightly stunned at the warmth and the
life
coming from the place on the first evening the restaurant was open. “I think Seb really knows how to throw a party,” she said. “This is amazing.” Jammed with friends, family, and neighbors, the place was deafening. Almost everyone was holding a plate full of food, and many were also balancing wineglasses as they talked and joked. A woman in a gorgeous caftan lounged against a wall, a glass of wine in her elegant hand as she talked with a handsome man wearing board shorts. Babs Kincaide sat at a table with Luke Bedwin and two other locals—Kate Everhart and John Anson. Babs smiled, and Cameron felt her happiness from across the room.