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“Problem?” He seems more exasperated than concerned, so I’m not worried. I take a step toward the door.
“Nah, just this asshat who won’t get a life and leave me alone.”
Midstep, I freeze. “What?”
Cam breezes past me. “Do we have time for a shower before we go to dinner? I’m glad you and Garrett made me borrow this coat. The cave didn’t seem that cold, but after a few hours, it seeps into your bones, doesn’t it?”
I reach out and snag the back of said coat before he can get too far away from me. “Come back here.”
“What?” He looks over his shoulder, face a study of confused innocence.
“There’s someone blowing up your phone who won’t leave you alone?”
He blows a raspberry. “Him? He’s a pest.”
I let go of the jacket and take his shoulders in my hands, turning him to face me. He blinks up at me from under his mop of curls. “What kind of pest? Ex-boyfriend?”
“No, nothing like that. I guess you could call him a disgruntled client? He ordered something a few years back, but then tried to weasel out of paying. Since then, he’s been a low-key annoyance.”
Something about the whole situation seems off to me, but Cam’s not worried, so I tell myself to let it go. Acting all overbearing isn’t going to convince him to sleep with me again, and that’s a lot higher on my priority list than some random former client of his. “You should block his number,” I suggest, letting go of him. He immediately turns for the door.
“I tried that. He just texts from another phone. I— Yaaahhh!”
I lunge forward, but he’s too far into the hall for me to catch him this time. Fortunately, he stumbles shoulder-first into the wall and manages to avoid hitting his head.
“Are you okay?” I gather him in my arms and tilt his chin upward. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?” It doesn’t hurt to double-check. His eyes are focused and clear, but signs of concussion don’t always show up immediately.
“Just my shoulder. And it’s fine.” His voice is a little breathy as he gazes at me.
“Are you sure? Rotate your arm.”
He makes a sound that shoots straight to my dick. “Are we going to play doctor? I can be a good patient, Doctor.”
I’m literally speechless… and way more turned on than I expected to be. “Uhhh…”
He bats his eyelashes and strips off his coat and sweater right there in the hallway. “Maybe you could kiss it better for me?”
My gaze drops to his torso. The pale skin gleams in the low lighting, goose bumps rising as the air hits it after being wrapped up warm. Old bruises splotch his arms, and there’s one on his hip, rising from the waistband of his pants. It looks new. “When did this happen?” I ask, tracing it lightly with a single finger. He shivers.
“I walked into a crate.”
I frown. Clearly I’m going to need to keep a better eye on him. Crouching, I lay my lips against it in a barely there kiss, then raise my eyes to his. “Better?”
He swallows hard. “A little.”
“Hmm.” I stand, then lean down and whisper my lips along his shoulder. It’s red where he hit the wall, but not bruised yet. “What about this? Does it help at all?”
“S-sure. But I think the treatment might need to be repeated. A few times.”
I smile against his skin and skim down his arm to the next bruise. This one, I lick.
His whole body shudders. I don’t know if it’s because his arm is an erogenous zone or if it’s something else, but this is really working for him.
Good.
Straightening, I back him into the wall and take his lips in a deep, hungry kiss. He tastes like the candy he’s been sucking on all day, and the scent of machine oil and soap rises around me, sexier than any designer cologne could hope to be. He kisses me back eagerly, hitching one leg over my hip and hoisting himself higher against my body. I grab his round ass in my hands and let him grind all over me. Our clothes are a curse between us, and in just one second, I’m going to break this kiss to get them off.
In a few seconds…
