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“You know, Cam, I’m not in love with her,” Chase said then. “I won’t love her, not like you do. ”
Cam rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling a relief so intense it was almost weakness. He could share her body with Chase, but the thought of sharing her emotions, her heart, the tender touches and the smoky looks . . .
“Cam, is it worth losing her?”
He paced across the room, his hand dropping from his neck as he moved to the window and stared into the bright morning sunlight.
Seven years. He’d waited, fantasized. He’d dreamt of her.
“I’ll figure something out. ” And he would. Right now, he was allowing them both the distance they needed, but it wouldn’t last much longer.
“Evidently, you warned her to run when she saw either of us coming,” Chase said. “Why do that? Why not show her the man you are, rather than demanding she give into you without understanding what makes you like that? Damn, bro, you expect a lot from a woman, don’t you?”
“From her?” he whispered, watching through the tall windows as Courtney and Jaci moved into the gardens between the two wings of the house. “From her, I expect it all. And I think that terrifies both of us. ”
9
Cam found her in the garden an hour later, a frown on her face as she sketched on the electronic pad she used for drawing and notes. She nibbled absently on her lip, and it made his lips tingle at the thought of having her little teeth nip at him.
He stood and watched her for long moments, aware of the growing hunger building inside him. Pretty soon, it wasn’t going to matter if Chase was around or not, he was going to take her every chance he had.
He was burning for her. That addiction thing again. Hell if he knew how to break this addiction, though. He didn’t want to break it.
“Got a minute?”
“Probably. ” She tapped a few commands on the pad, and he watched it darken and shut down, then she tucked it into the carrier bag she wore on her shoulder.
“Come up to the office. ” He held his hand out to her in invitation. “You can see the equipment we have there, and help me decide which room to try to convince Ian we need for a new office. ”
“You need a new office?” Jaci took his hand and let him draw her along the stone path.
“Bigger office, anyway. ” He smiled down at her. The hell if he cared if he had another office. He needed some time with her. He needed to smell the scent of her, feel her warmth, and he needed to do it without distractions. The office was his only chance, unless he wanted to slip into her hotel room again.
He wanted her until his back teeth ached with it. But he was finding he wanted more than just the sex with her. He wanted to laugh with her. He wanted to talk with her. He wanted her in his life and in his home, because he was damned if he was satisfied with the arrangement as it was.
She was continually running from him, and he’d had enough of it.
“So Ian doesn’t want you to have a bigger office?” There was a hint of knowing heat in her voice, remnants of her earlier wariness.
“I doubt he really gives a damn. ” He felt like smiling. “I just want an excuse to spend some time with you. ”
He glanced at her, and saw the almost-shy surprise in her expression as she looked up at him. That look had his cock hardening to the point of pain.
“You didn’t need an excuse. ” She cleared her throat as they entered the house, and headed through the back hall toward the offices. “All you had to do was let me know. ”
“You keep running, Jaci,” he said softly.
“You told me to run. ” Her voice was reflective now. “What’s the point in running, Cam? I never could stay away from you. ”
He pulled her into his office, slammed the door behind them, locked it, and pushed her against the wall. His hands framed her face, as though her admission had broken some thread of control holding him back and his lips slammed down on hers.
He drew back at the last second, softened the possession in the kiss, and groaned at the heated welcome of her lips. Wanton. That was what she was. Her tongue met his, and her hands were pulling at his shirt, dragging it out of his jeans to allow her nails to rasp against the mat of hair that grew over his chest.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned against her lips. “I’m dying for you, Jaci. ”
His hands were pulling at her skirt. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel the sweet warmth between her thighs, slick and wet, beckoning him.
“You wanted to talk. ” She was panting. She was sweet and hot, and he could feel the need in her body, just as clearly as he heard it in her voice.
