There was a pregnant pause as Cami considered how best to explain their arrangement without slipping into the territory of too much information. She quickly decided that was not possible. “He wants to teach me how to use sex toys.”
Lenny was unfazed. “Are you buying them here?”
“Yes.”
“Then more power to you. Get it while you can. That boy is hot.”
Cami was overwhelmed with a curious mixture of mortification and pride, uncertain which was winning.
Her silence didn’t appear to bother Lenny, who made her way into the back office, tea swinging in her hand. “I bet he’s got a huge?—”
That spurred Cami into action. She drowned out the end of Lenny’s sentence with a mishmash of consonants and the impotent flapping protest of her hands. “I won’t be finding out. We aren’t having sex.”
“You realize they’re called sex toys, right?”
“I’m aware,” she said flatly. She wasn’t eager to debate the semantics. It made sense to her, and apparently to Des. Still, she wanted Lenny to understand, to approve. To assure her this wasn’t a glorious, sexy mistake. “I just mean, there’s not going to be any… erm…”
“Intercourse?”
“Skin-to-skin contact.”
At this, Lenny poked her head out of the office, frowning around the end of a sour belt candy she’d materialized. “No touching? What the hell kind of fun is that?”
“There will be plenty of fun,” Cami insisted. “That’s what the toys are for.”
Lenny snorted. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
And if she had some doubts about her ability to keep her hands off him in the heat of the moment…well, she’d keep those to herself.
Des whistledas the door to his sister Olivia’s townhouse swung closed behind him, nearly nipping at the heel of his loafer. “Jenga!” he called. An answering meow reverberated through the tiled hallway seconds before a cat, short-haired and calico, trotted into view. He loosened the knot of his tie then knelt to give Jenga a behind-the-ear scratch. “Hi. Have you been good today?”
The cat cocked her head at him and twitched her tail in a manner that was not entirely innocent. His eyes narrowed. Liv had warned him that Jenga had developed a habit of flinging poop out of her litter box when she was left alone for too long, and he wasn’t keen to prowl the house looking for errant bits of feces just because his sister had gotten stuck at the hospital. Doctor’s hours didn’t mesh well with being a pet parent.
“I hope you didn’t leave me any presents.” He straightened, leaned his briefcase against the closet door then toed off his shoes. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t starve to death. I didn’t sign up for poop duty.”
As he slid into the kitchen to scoop out some cat food, he glanced at his briefcase. Inside were two unsigned contracts. And he had less than a month to get them signed.
He could do it. He had to. Maybe he wasn’t as focused on it as he should have been, but he could handle this. He could do his job, and help Cami at the same time.
That’s all he was doing. Just offering a helping hand. He certainly wouldn’t get any personal gratification out of getting her off.
He was such a moron.
The first time he’d met Cami, he’d noticed her right away, straightening up the small boxes hanging from hooks behind the counter. Her straw-blonde hair had been pulled into a bouncy ponytail and she’d been sans makeup except for the sheen of nude gloss on her lips.
The employee dress code at the store was fairly relaxed, likely, he’d come to realize, because the owner, Lenny Seaver, loathed closed-toed shoes. He suspected that was why she’d picked sandy Santa Monica to base her store. Regardless, the result was Cami bustling around the store, surrounded by adult toys, wearing tight-fitting jeans and tees that were not intended to be as sexy as they looked on her. Though, that said, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had that problem with most clothing.
This situation he’d gotten himself into... he hadn’t intended it. It would only complicate things. He’d thrown in the rule about no skin-to-skin contact to alleviate that concern, but he doubted it would help much. The whole point of the thing was to help her get off. Orgasms tended to complicate even the simplest situations.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It would make things weird between them, especially when she found out what he did for a living, but until then he was going to do his best to savor it. If he only got one night with her, he was going to make it one to remember, whether he could touch her or not.
This was arguably the most questionable romantic situation he’d ever gotten himself into, though his relationship with Madilyn was also a contender. Looking back on that with some perspective now, their relationship had been sketchy. It was no wonder it had crashed and burned so spectacularly. But at least he’d known her before they’d fallen into bed together.
With Cami, he knew how her honey-brown eyes lit up when she laughed, though. She hated having her hair down when shewas working. She could hold her own during sexy banter, despite how red her cheeks got.
He knew enough to know he wanted her.
