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‘I’ve never seen you in a suit,’ is her dull greeting.
Cameron’s lips quirk. ‘What’s the verdict?’
He stands tall and holds his arms to the side.
‘It—You—’ Jules licks her lips, gaze sliding down the buttons of his shirt, the crisp seam in his pant legs, the shined leather shoes, then back up to Cameron’s face to see him doing the same with her.
His eyes glide over her bare shoulders, her heavy breasts, down to her feet and up again, setting off a heat in her belly.
He finds his words first. ‘I wish we’d met at the hotel.’
‘Why?’
‘So I could have turned you back around and we could have gone straight to my room.’
Jules quivers. The heat in Cameron’s eyes promises fun and endless pleasure.
‘We could always skip the symphony?’ It’s not like she wasn’t thinking about it already herself.
She’s constantly taken aback by her body’s visceral reaction to him, which hasn’t diminished at all after having sex with him. She can barely feel that ache in her chest right now over the heat between her legs. Can that ache go another night unfulfilled? Would it matter in the long run if she chooses fanning the flames of her desire instead?
Cameron laughs, low and husky. He closes the distance between them until they’re close enough she can smell his aftershave. ‘No way. You were so excited to go this morning. I’m not letting you skip it.’
Jules’s heart flutters in her chest. She appreciates the sentiment, but damn, parts of her are disappointed to not immediately come into contact with parts of Cameron. She may combust spontaneously from unresolved arousal trying to make it through the next few hours of the pre-show drinks with Cameron, the concert, then meeting Carrie for a tour of the green room. Staring into Cameron’s eyes and seeing the not entirely hidden desire makes her certain the delay will be worth it.
A breeze moves along Jules’s exposed skin and she shivers. Cameron wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her close to his side. Is this normally part of a fling? She needs a Tori hotline to ask these pressing questions. For now, Jules gladly snuggles in close to the furnace that is Cameron as they descend to the Opera Bar and grab a table with a view of the Harbour Bridge.
***
They share food and drink while fending off the overeager seagulls, during which they talk about the conference so far and Jules fantasises about peeling Cameron out of his suit and having her way with him. She means to pepper in some personal questions to help take the edge of that ache inside her—persistent despite her arousal—but then Cameron looks at her like he’s undressing her with his eyes, and her clit starts pulsing and she loses all her good intentions.
Afterwards, they join the masses moving into the Opera House for the concert. Cameron keeps his hand on Jules’s back as they ascend the wide stairs into one of the giant arching sails. Heat spreads across her skin from the point of contact, like a drip of ink on paper, until it’s curling around her front and making her breasts ache.
It’s like this man has some kind of cheat code that gets him to bypass all the usual steps to arousal. One light touch over her clothed skin and bam, her internal muscles are clenching, ready for him.
Cameron leads them confidently through a door to a quiet section outside, nestled between two of the Opera House sails, where the cool air helps take the edge off Jules’s lust.
‘Wow.’ Jules walks to the railing and looks across to the Harbour Bridge. Darkness has fully set and the lights around the arch stand out. She’s seen it before, of course, but it feels different tonight. It’s probably the fancy dress, which sits a little tighter than she’s used to, or the curled hair she’d never bother to do herself. Or Cameron.
‘Quite a view, isn’t it?’ he says, walking over to join her, his presence managing to compete with the famous bridge.
‘Yeah.’
She pulls her phone from her clutch to take a picture so she can send it to Tori and Cat.
‘Do you want me to grab one of you?’ Cameron offers.
‘That’d be great. Thanks.’
She passes the phone over, fingers tingling when Cameron’s graze hers. She rearranges the fabric of her dress then smiles toward Cameron.
Cameron’s slow to lift the phone, gaze roaming over her body in a way that leaves no doubt what he’s thinking about. Sitting beside him for the next two hours may be torture. Or incredibly drawn-out foreplay. The line is thin.
‘Are you ever going to take the photo?’ she says as Cameron dawdles with particular focus on her legs.
‘I’m taking a mental one first.’
Jules rolls her eyes but her insides go goopy as he finally lifts the phone and takes a few pictures.
