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She pays, despite Cameron’s protests, and then they meander along Circular Quay as they eat. Jules watches Cameron’s tongue swipe up the side of his gelato with jealousy. By the wink he gives her after darting his tongue out to scoop the top into his waiting mouth, he’s aware of the effect his ministrations are having.
Two can play that game.
It’s the oddest, silliest foreplay Jules has ever engaged in. Tastes good, too, when she steals a taste of Cameron’s gelato and he braces her against the railing by the wharf and kisses her with an ice-cold tongue. There’s way more people around than there were at the Opera House but she doesn’t care. A little possessive part of her is elated, soaring in her chest that he’s being openly affectionate with her. Out in public. Kissing. Like they’re a couple.
And there she goes again with the dating thoughts.
Cameron presses a cold kiss to her cheek, then her temple, then rests his lips against her ear.
‘You know what I’ve been thinking about all night?’ Cameron asks.
From the hot hardness pressing against her hip—a hardness she spotted when she ducked below the table at the restaurant earlier—Jules is pretty confident it’s something along the lines of smearing gelato all over her body and licking it off slowly. At least, that’s what she’s thinking about doing to him.
‘Your presentation?’ She goes for the joke, but the instant way he stiffens up—his entire body, not the part Jules was thinking about sliding gelato over—has her realising the misstep. Damn, she should have gone for a sexy answer.
‘Fuck.’ He pulls off her and she shivers. ‘No. I haven’t been.’
He runs a hand over his face. When it drops away, it’s like he’s painted worry lines and tension onto his skin.
Batting away her hormones takes some concentration, but his presentation is something that matters to Cameron. If she can help him with it, that’s as good as an orgasm on his tongue. Kind of.
Fighting through the lust, she checks the giant clock on the facade of the art gallery behind him. ‘It’s only just after eight. Let’s head back and we can run through it.’
Cameron exhales roughly and throws his half-eaten gelato into a nearby bin. ‘Sorry to end this so abruptly,’ he says. He sets a blistering pace to the hotel.
Jules tries to match his stride which involves a shuffle-hop and then some fast footwork. ‘No apology needed.’ It’s the honest truth. ‘I know how important this presentation is to you.’
‘Did I tell you that?’
‘You didn’t have to. You’re the most studious person I know, and I’ve seen your desk. You have so many printouts of your presentation and reminders of when and where to be.’
‘I want it to go well.’ He says it like he’s calling on the universe to help. ‘Everyone from Cable will—’
He doesn’t finish the sentence.
Jules reaches for his hand and holds on tightly. He squeezes back with enough force she worries about bruising.
Cameron continues his hurried pace. For a man totally confident and at ease in the bedroom, there’s an alarming tension to his body. His over-preparedness for the conference was charming to her, but is it more than a personality quirk?
‘It will go well,’ she repeats.
‘And what if it doesn’t?’ he says tightly.
Jules wants to yank him to a stop on the sidewalk and wrap her arms so tightly around him she’s like a security blanket. ‘Then … We’ll eat an entire block of chocolate together then move on.’
He scoffs. ‘I’m not sure a sugar high will help me recover from making an ass of myself twice.’
‘Making an ass of yourself?’
‘Yeah. You know I ran from Cable for personal reasons. It was shit timing. I’d spearheaded a massive blitz campaign for a new Australian YA series. I left right before it launched. My manager’s expression when I told her I was resigning was—’ He jerks his head side to side. ‘So disappointed. I let her down. And the rest of the team.’
‘What does that have to do with your presentation?’
‘The second book in the series is due to release early next year and so the whole Gen Z focus should be useful to them. It won’t be if I fumble my talk. Or if my bad luck with tech means the slide show doesn’t work. What if the microphone fritzes?’
Jules’s heart pangs like a string plucked. He’s so concerned about making amends in his own subtle way.
‘Cameron, you’re … It will go well.’ She’s breathless from the pace and she can’t make eye contact with him this way. That won’t do.
