Standing in front of my bathroom vanity, I tuck a towel around my waist. After shaving, I rinse my face and apply a splash of cologne to my neck.
My thoughts wander to Camryn, and the level of anticipation I have for tonight is through the roof. All day, my imagination has been running wild with thoughts of what may happen tonight.
Will I be brave enough to tell her how I really feel? The jury’s out on that one.
Finally, I run some product through my hair, then get dressed. She’ll be here any minute, and though my thoughts are far from innocent, I doubt she’ll be amused to show up and find me naked.
I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m falling for her hard. And I also know there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m in uncharted territory, but I’m going with my gut. Just like Noah advised, I’m going to be a grizzly.
Besides, I have five months to wed, which means I have time to see where things might go with Camryn. If it doesn’t work, I still have time to marry.
I can’t lose.
Right?
My doorman buzzes, and I punch the button on the intercom. A few moments later, I open the front door just in time to watch an unsure-looking Camryn step off the lift.
“Hey there,” I murmur, and her gaze darts up to meet mine.
Expectant energy crackles in the space between us. Camryn, looking more beautiful than ever, crosses the hall and steps inside.
“Hi.” She’s quiet and contemplative tonight, and I can’t help but wonder how much of that trepidation is for what may transpire tonight between us.
We grab a couple of bottles of water, and since it’s gotten too chilly to enjoy the balcony, we sit together on the couch. We make small talk for a little while when she blurts out a question I wasn’t expecting.
“Does it ever get to you . . . what you do for a living?” she asks.
“Of course it does.”
“I’m sorry, that was . . . I shouldn’t have—”
“You have this bad habit of apologizing when you don’t need to.”
“I’m sorry.” Her face breaks into a cheeky grin. “Yikes. I did it again, didn’t I?”
I nod. “Yes, now quit. You can ask me about anything you like. I don’t want you feeling like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”
She opens her mouth, presumably to say I’m sorry, and I shake my head at her, laughing.
Sorry, she mouths with a smirk.
I lunge at her, pinning her under me on the couch, and begin tickling her waist. I dig my fingers into her ribs as I unleash the wrath of my playful fury.
“Not fair . . . so not fair!” Camryn gasps in between fits of laughter. She thrusts her hips up in an attempt to get away, bringing her center in direct alignment with my lower half. I grunt at the unexpected contact.
“Sorry.”
This time I don’t tease her. “No, you’re not,” I say, voice turning molten.
A strained breath pushes past her lips, and her eyes slip closed. “Sterling . . .” Her voice is almost pained, right on the edge between desire and agony.
When her eyes drift open, they’re glazed over with wanton lust as they meet mine. “You can’t do this kind of stuff.”
“Little late for that, Cami.”
With her body restrained beneath me, I’m in the perfect position, and I use it to my full advantage, kissing her deeply.
She kisses me back and my brain short-circuits. Whimpers of frustrated need claw up her throat. Her breathing is shallow and fast, her pulse rioting in her neck.
Somehow, I find my missing restraint and pull back. She meets my eyes.
“Did that just happen? She’s wearing half a smile on her lips.
I nod. “I’m afraid so.” I’m smug, and I can’t help it.
“Oh thank God, because I was worried I dreamed it.”
I can’t help but laugh. Damn, she’s cute. This must mean she’s been dreaming about this moment just as much as I have. It makes me want to do it all over again. As soon as possible.
“Are you ready for that dessert I promised you?”
She smiles at me warmly. “So, you were serious about dessert?”
I chuckle. “Of course.” I take her hand and lead her into the kitchen. “You told me once that you wanted to go to Italy.”
She shoots me a curious glance.
“I have the next best thing. Gelato.”
“Yum.” She gives me a grateful look that I feel deep down in the center of my chest.
Camryn squeezes my hand, and we enter the kitchen together. Watching her face light up is worth the extra effort of running across town to the European grocer. My body may be pissed at me for stopping our makeout session, but my heart is happy.
“I might have even recorded an episode of that show you like. You have time to stick around?”
“Absolutely,” Camryn chirps, her cheeks rosy.