His randy cock agreed.
Still, in spite of the sex, his watch had stayed on, and eventually he was going to have to move. Midnight was fast approaching; he was going to have to leave.
“Why don’t you lose the watch?”
The way she said it, it was all so innocent, all so completely without motive, but the doc did nothing without motive, without altruistic purpose.
Cam, on the other hand, had no such scruples.
He rolled her underneath him, his mouth latching onto her breast. She loved that, her head falling back, her mouth falling slack, her dark lashes falling low, and Cam was not one to deny a woman her pleasure. First one breast, then another, until she rolled on top of him, forcibly removing his mouth, gasping for breath.
“My turn,” she said, taking both his hands, and pulling them over his head.
He raised his brows. “Kinky.”
“You haven’t seen kinky,” she promised, but he felt the tug at his watchband, and he knew where this particular game was headed.
Cam pulled his hands free and grabbed her up, heading for the bedroom.
“Not quite yet.”
April 1, 3:10 a.m.
OUTSIDE, the moon was high in the sky, it was well into April first, and so far there were no disasters. Not unless you counted the collapse of her nervous system. Jenna was now comfortably tucked into the perfectly healthy shoulder of Cam and she wanted to keep it that way. For another nine hours.
All she needed was a few moments alone. “Do you have some ice?”
“Ice?”
“Yes. Ice. It’s very hot in here. I’m thinking ice water would be nice.”
“And you want me to get it for you?” he asked.
“That’s the way things work in polite America.”
“Why should I trust you?’
“With ice?”
He sighed and lifted his arm, and she kept the triumph from her smile.
“Okay, be right back.” She watched his easy movements with greedy eyes as he slid out of bed. Quite simply, he was magnificent. Long, tight muscles that rippled when he moved. He had a workman’s tan on his arms and around his neck.
She pretended (it wasn’t hard) to ogle him and luxuriate in the sated afterglow of sex (again, not hard) until he left the room. Then she climbed out of bed, unplugging the clock next to the bed, angling it to face the wall.
One down. Now to get the watch.
He seemed excessively attached to that watch, or more likely, he didn’t trust her. Cam was very perceptive that way. But he had underestimated the power of her determination to keep him alive…and sexually active.
She remembered the gleaming gold metal on the band and smiled, sauntering into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Cam?”
He appeared in the doorway, naked, carrying a glass of frosty ice water. “You want a shower?”
“I think so,” she said and walked into the glass enclosure, letting the warm water blast over her.
“I thought you were hot.”
She reached for the soap and shrugged, watching his eyes skim down her body. “I feel…dirty.”
He swallowed, his face perhaps a little pale. She grabbed the soap and had a fine time getting clean, paying particular attention to her chest.
Diligently she washed, creating great mounds of frothy white bubbles that dripped from her breasts. Her hands stroked and rubbed and tweaked, doing a fine job of ignoring his labored breathing. Then she found the particularly dirty place between her legs and she proceeded to rub.
These were not normal Jenna Ferrar moves. She had an image, a reputation to uphold, but here, with Cam, that all faded away like yesterday’s memories. Tonight, she’d let down her hair, and discovered a part of her personality she didn’t realize she had.
It was the burning look in his eyes that spurred her on, and Jenna knew she should be focused on getting Cam in the shower with her, getting him to take off the watch, but she was feeling remarkably at ease in this carnal playground.
It had been so long. It had been never.
Her finger slid inside her, stroking her clit, teasing him, and it felt so gloriously freeing. Cam didn’t move, his erection heavy, thick, pulsing for her, and she felt the swelling in her body that understood.
Desire.
Her lips curved with it, her nipples peaked with it, and her mind was drunk with it.
“Come play with me,” she taunted.
He shook his head. “You’re doing fine.” He moved his hand over his cock, and Jenna gulped.
“Suit yourself,” she said, and adjusting the water velocity, adjusting the angle, letting the hard jets pulsate over her breasts, she began to play in earnest.
Jenna knew her body, knew the way she needed to be touched, knew the exact length of time to get her to orgasm, but this wasn’t functional stress relief. This was pleasing him, seducing him.