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Spent, I stood lax against the wall as Cameron turned off the water, before toweling off my body and then his. I watched his muscles flex as he rubbed the droplets away from his ripped stomach and had to physically stop myself from taking a bite of his bubble ass.
If there was an award for asses, Cameron would rightfully claim it.
His knowing smirk at my inability to keep from having shower sex showed on his face as he glanced at me. I gladly gave him the win as my imagination went wild with the possibilities for the rest of the weekend.
“For the record,” I said with a voice full of lust, “I don’t have table sex, couch sex, patio sex, hot tub sex, or counter sex, either.”
“Noted,” he said as his dimples appeared.
Later that morning, and without shame, I watched Cameron sleep. A lock of his dark hair lay in a slight wave across his forehead and his full lips taunted me. The fact that he looked so perfect without effort, well . . . it pissed me off. Tousled hair, flawless skin, he looked freshly fucked, but in a way that made him movie scene worthy, and I just looked . . . fucked. It was totally unfair.
I’d never been the girl to apply makeup in the morning to deceive some poor unsuspecting guy with a false future reality. But when I woke, I made damned sure to sneak in a run with the t
oothbrush and rinse with some Listerine I found in his leather travel bag.
After I dampened my three-million-watt hair to tame it, I used a squirt of his manly gel and ran my fingers through.
My lips were chapped from the cold and bruised from his kiss, so I put on some designer Chapstick that may have looked a little like tinted lip gloss.
In an attempt to keep things clean, I may have rolled on some of the deodorant I kept in my tote.
There was a chance I went through his suitcase and found a fresh button-down flannel shirt and slid it on. On a technicality, he did say he brought one for me. Cuffing the sleeves, I glanced back to him as he slept.
The man was a demigod, cut, etched, and completely at ease as he dreamed godlike dreams. He’d told me he’d lived a charmed life, and I believed it. As wrong as the thought was, I was sure his looks gave him a sort of advantage in his years.
And from what I’d gathered, he’d used that advantage, especially with women. But there was a difference between a man who was good looking and arrogant to a man who was good looking and had substance, and that difference was Cameron.
I loved that he didn’t ramble on about his hey-days, though I was sure he was a bit of a bad ass. It was smirk implied.
Those ramblings would only have turned me off, stories of a cocky and insecure man, but Cameron had shed those years and grown into a gentle giant. His beauty went further than skin deep and behind it, he was all heart.
Enamored, I stood staring for a stalker minute while his body rose and fell, taking and expelling even breaths. Even in his sleep, he was too much to take in.
The attraction I felt for him only grew stronger when I thought of how his full lips felt on mine, and how his eyes shone when he looked at me. I couldn’t get over it, no matter how hard I tried to play it cool. Everything about him appealed to me—his size, his strength, his beauty, him.
While I waited for Cameron to wake up, I decided to clean out my bag, and it was then that I brushed on a little blush along my cheekbones to make sure I still liked the shade.
Because I was in my tote, I grabbed my lotion bar to scent my wrists, what could it hurt to make a little bit of effort?
And then I got to digging in that bag and found some old diamond stud earrings that I loved in a hidden pocket. They were nothing special.
I may have played around with my phone, twisting my head at odd angles to make sure he didn’t wake up seeing my unpredictable and opportunistic double chin. In my defense, that secondary chin tended to flare out like a lizard’s neck without warning. I didn’t want to scare the poor man.
When I’d finished polishing my nails and toes with a shade I’d bought months ago and forgotten about, I decided that Cameron was going to sleep forever, so I may have borrowed his razor and shaved my legs a little.
By the time I was finished not getting ready for Cameron to open his eyes, I was exhausted and even more disturbed by the slow smile that covered his face when I made myself comfortable back in bed.
“You are not human,” I whispered, praying when he woke I’d see a hint of spinach in his teeth from last night’s feast. He cooked a mean steak and spinach salad.
Come on, give me one flaw!
“Are you all dressed up for me?” he asked, his sexy voice filled with sleep.
I snorted. Snorted and ruined every chance I had of looking like a sexy sophisticate.
“No, this is how I always look in the morning.” That was my story and I was sticking to it.
“Sooooo, you didn’t brush your teeth, fix your hair, put some shit on your face, use my razor to shave your legs, and pose for twenty pictures you didn’t take?”
