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“How did you pull this off?” I ask him.
“Willow. She had her sister come over and set this all up for us. It couldn’t be just anyone. I needed someone who wasn’t going to run to the tabloids and exploit either of us, and everyone I trust without question was going to be with us today.”
I turn to face him. He’s dressed in jeans today. They fit him just as well, if not better than his baseball pants. It’s a treat to see him in jeans. He’s wearing a plain white T-shirt that molds to his muscles and leaves his tattoos on display. He has on a black baseball hat, and he’s wearing a smile for me.
The floral scent in the room is a reminder of what he did for me. For us. I don’t need him to tell me to know that this is our moment. The one we’ve both been waiting for but denying ourselves. Well, more Cameron than me. He has Thor’s strength when it comes to not giving in to me. Believe me. I’ve tried. However, today that’s all about to change.
I’m wearing cutoff shorts and a tank top, something I won’t be able to do in a few weeks when the weather starts to turn cool. My hands find their way to the button of my shorts. I don’t take my eyes off him as I shimmy my shorts down my legs. They pool at my feet, and I kick them to the side—next is my tank. I reach for the hem and lift until it’s over my head and somewhere on the floor. I’m left standing in front of him in a sheer black bra and panties.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, swallowing hard.
“You’re overdressed,” I counter.
He pulls his hat from his head and tosses it to the floor. The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin as he reaches behind him, grips his plain white T-shirt, and pulls it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. “Better?”
“Keep going, Taylor.” I point at his jeans.
He kicks off his shoes and makes quick work of stripping himself out of his jeans. “How about now?”
“We’re getting there.”
“Yeah?” he asks, stepping toward me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “I think you’re the one who’s now overdressed.” With deft fingers, he unhooks my bra and assists me with sliding the straps over my shoulders and down my arms, adding to the pile of clothes beginning to gather on his bedroom floor. “Now we’re even,” he murmurs, and he bends his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth.
Closing my eyes, I fight back the moan that threatens to spill free. “Is that how this is going to go? Tit for tat?”
“Is that how you want this to go?”
“I asked you first.” Suddenly, I’m nervous. I’ve wanted this moment with him for a long damn time, and now that it’s here, the nerves move in.
“What I want is to cherish you. I want a night when I know I can take my time to give you the attention you deserve. I want a lazy morning of lying in bed and making love to you.”
“Is that night tonight?”
“Depends.” His eyes lock on mine. “If you allow me the honor to make love to you, then yes, tonight is that night.”
“Finally,” I say dramatically, making us both laugh.
“Sassy,” he says, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck.
“You love me sassy.”
“I love you any way I can get you, Paisley.” He drops to his knees and spends some time kissing my belly. Settling his hands on my hips, he looks up at me. “I love you.”
I bury my hands in his hair. “I love you too.”
Sliding his hands in the waistband of my panties, he works them over my hips, my thighs, and down my legs. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I lift one foot, then the other to step out of them.
“I don’t know where to start,” he murmurs, kissing just below my belly button.
“We can just get down to business.”
“Oh, you think you’re ready?”
“Try me,” I challenge.
He smiles. “On the bed, beautiful.” The predatory gleam in his eyes causes a shiver of anticipation to race down my spine. Doing as he asks, I sit on the bed and move back until I can lay my head on the pillow.
I don’t take my eyes off him as he strips out of his boxer briefs and reaches into the nightstand. I watch him as he takes out a box of condoms and opens it for the first time. He pulls out a strip and tosses it on the bed next to me. When he walks toward the end of the bed, I speak up. “Where are you going?”
