Too Wilde to Tame (3 page)

Now, these days when Cam slept with a woman, it was important to him that there was something more substantial to back up the physical release. Like an emotional connection and some kind of commitment that made the romantic affair more meaningful and worthwhile. And from what he'd seen with Mia over the years, she lacked the ability to sustain a long-term relationship with any of the guys she'd dated.

One of the bartenders announced the wet T-shirt contest and encouraged the women in the place to enter, luring them in with a cash prize of a hundred bucks. The customers cheered enthusiastically, and Cameron paid no attention to the frenzy as the DJ put on the song "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" by Rod Stewart to rile up the crowd and contestants.

A headache started throbbing in his temples, and he'd just decided it was time to leave and go home when he heard a loud, raucous sound that made him, and Rick, glance toward the dance floor. What Cam next laid eyes on hit him like a solid punch to the stomach.

There was Mia, a willing and sexy participant of the contest, along with a dozen other adventurous women. All the ladies had changed into the bar's white T-shirts that were cropped to expose their stomachs and were deliberately a size too small so the soft cotton molded to their breasts. That was nothing compared to how the fabric adhered to their curves as the waiters poured a pitcherful of water over each contestant's chest.

And it was obviously very cold water at that.

Rick gaped right along with him. "Holy…"

"Shit," Cameron bit out succinctly.

"You can say that again," Rick said humorously.

Cameron almost did, except his mouth had suddenly gone dry as dust. He stared at Mia and the way she looked in clinging, wet cotton, certain she'd had too much to drink and wasn't thinking with a clear head. Yes, she was bold and outrageous, but he'd never known her to be an exhibitionist. Alcohol had to be clouding her judgment tonight There was no other lucid explanation for this scandalous display of hers.

Most of the women were completely bare beneath their now see-through T-shirts, but a few of them had opted to keep their bras on. And thank God Mia was one of those women, Cam thought gratefully, because he was certain he would have had a heart attack if she'd gone au naturel in front of all these strangers.

Still, that thin, damp material molded to her full, shapely breasts and tight nipples like a second skin, and it was apparent that her bra was sheer, lacy, and unpadded. That provocative peek at her sexy lingerie left enough to the male imagination, yet also made her look far more alluring and seductive than the other girls who'd dared to go braless.

Desire flowed hot and molten through Cam's veins, along with an unholy amount of lust. Both of those physical reactions were becoming way too frequent when it came to Mia—and they were unwanted as hell.

When all the women were soaked, it was up to each contestant to draw as much energy and excitement from the crowd to ultimately win the contest. A group of frat boys had surged toward the stage and were spurring on Mia with catcalls and whistles as she worked to earn her share of attention—of which she had plenty. Her hips swayed to the beat of the music, and she caressed her hand across her bare, wet, sleek stomach, sending the young bucks into another round of enthusiastic cheers.

Jealousy twisted like a sharp knife in Cameron's belly, and he was fairly certain that was exactly the response from him Mia was hoping for. Still, somehow he managed to remain outwardly composed as he continued to watch her too-arousing performance.

Her skirt had inched up higher on her legs, exposing way too much of those smooth, toned thighs of hers, but she didn't seem to notice… or care. Her lustrous hair swung around her shoulders as she tossed her head back and laughed, her eyes sparkling seductively as her gaze latched onto him and she gave him a slow, bewitching smile that spoke volumes.

Gut instinct told him she didn't give a damn if she won. This performance was all for him, and him alone. She was deliberately tempting him. Teasing him. Daring him to let go and have fun, with her.

Under normal circumstances, he would have walked away from this latest antic of hers and chalked it up to another battle of the sexes between them. But this time, he couldn't do it.

Cam knew without a doubt that if it was one of his sisters up there on that stage in a wet, see-through T-shirt and too-short skirt, and one of his friends was in the audience, he'd want them to be sure she got the hell out of there and home safely. As it was, there was too much potential of some stranger taking advantage of her inebriated state. Being a P.I. and having investigated too many sexual assault cases, he was well aware of the possible dangers this kind of atmosphere bred—especially when half the men in the place had their eye on a certain woman and that hot little body of hers.

Then there was the issue of Mia's brothers. If it ever got back to one of her siblings that he'd left their baby sister in this bar in her condition, or if something happened to her because he'd decided to leave, he knew his ass would be on the line. And her brothers and cousins aside, he couldn't live with himself if he abandoned her.

A raw expletive escaped him. God, she was pure trouble. The bane of his existence. And this situation proved it.

She wanted a reaction out of him? Well, she was about to get one, he decided.

Chapter Two

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UP on the dance floor, Mia continued to work the crowd with a shimmy and a shake, but her gaze remained locked on Cameron, who was currently pushing his way through the throng of unruly patrons and toward the stage. His normally sensual lips were stretched into a grim line, and his green eyes blazed with a simmering anger. That very fine body of his was wired with determination and an underlying impatience that didn't bode well for her.

And still, none of those negative vibes he was giving off detracted from just how devastatingly gorgeous the man was. And sexy. And so incredibly hot. Cameron Sinclair was all male, from his thick tousled dark blonde hair, to those wide shoulders of his, to his lean hips and strong-looking thighs… and certainly everything in between.

And she'd wanted him for a very long time.

Unfortunately, Cameron Sinclair had remained elusive to her. He'd presented quite a challenge over the years and most especially lately, but that's exactly what she liked about him and what attracted her so strongly.

He was so far removed from all the other guys she'd dated, most of whom she'd easily managed to wrap around her finger in no time flat. And once that happened, the thrill of the chase always diminished, her interest in them waned, and she'd end the brief affair. It was a cycle she was well familiar with and one she used to protect her heart and emotions.

But Cam wasn't one to bend to her will. At least not without a whole lot of provocation—like her impulsive decision to enter the wet T-shirt contest, all as a harmless, fun ploy to make Cameron squirm. Except tonight, it appeared she'd finally managed to crack that staunch control of his. And she couldn't wait to see how this situation between them played out.

As he neared the steps to the dance floor, his darkened gaze shifted back to her. A rush of adrenaline shot through her veins, and a heady mixture of awareness and delicious anticipation curled low in her belly. Going with the wicked urge to ruffle his feathers just a bit more, she lifted her hands to her hair and made sure he was watching as she slowly wet her bottom lip with her tongue and rolled her hips in a sinuous dance move that was as seductive as it was suggestive.

There was no mistaking the desire that flared to life in his striking eyes, and she reveled in that small victory. Cam might have spent months skirting the electric chemistry between them, but she'd seen enough proof lately to confirm that he was far from immune to her and their attraction.

Now it was just a matter of finally doing something about all that potent sexual tension that had them both so on edge around one another.

Reaching the dance floor, he crossed the stage to her, ignoring the way the other participants tried to entice him into joining them in the wet T-shirt contest. His gaze never wavered from Mia's, except to briefly skim over the front of her damp top in a heated caress. In response, her nipples tightened into tingling, sensitive points against her lacy bra. It amazed her how Cameron didn't even have to physically touch her to coax a sensual reaction out of her body. He was the only man she'd ever known who possessed that impressive talent.

He halted directly in front of her so the customers in the bar no longer had a clear view of her or their exchange. "Show's over, sweetheart," he announced, his direct, blunt approach leaving no room for argument.

She stopped dancing, amused by this macho, take-charge side to Cameron. Normally all she saw was the uptight and gruff attitude, and while she supposed that curt tone intimidated some people, she took it as an invitation to be just as daring.

"Says who?" she challenged.

"Me." With that, he grasped her wrist, started down the stairs, and tugged her along behind him—amidst whoops and ribald remarks from the male patrons cheering him on.

Unwilling to be a passive female to his caveman routine, she pulled back and finagled her arm from his grasp. "I'm not ready to leave yet." She turned and headed down the corridor leading to the restrooms.

Behind her, she heard him curse at her defiant maneuver and she bit back a smile. She so loved getting the best of Cameron whenever the opportunity presented itself, especially because it didn't happen often.

Halfway down the hallway, he caught up to her. In a quick, lithe move, he had her back pressed up against the wall with his strong, muscular arms braced on either side of her shoulders so this time she couldn't escape him—at least not easily. Raw frustration etched his expression as he stared down at her, his entire body taut as he tried to keep a firm rein on the temper she knew was simmering right below the surface.

"Dammit, Mia," he said through gritted teeth. "You've obviously had too much to drink and you're not thinking straight. I'm not about to leave you here in your condition. Your brothers would be furious with me if I didn't at least be sure you got home safely."

Ahhh, now she understood where all his high-handedness was coming from. He obviously believed she was intoxicated, and for some ridiculous reason he was driven to save her from herself. Well, she wasn't impressed with his chivalry. In fact, his do-good deed only chafed at her more rebellious side and made her want to buck this charitable gesture of his.

Anger nipped at her own emotions, and she inhaled a deep, calming breath. God, why was it that every man in her life thought it was his duty to keep her safe and sheltered and protected like a weak female? They treated her as though she couldn't take care of herself on her own. Especially her brothers and cousins, and now, it seemed Cameron had also developed the urge to join the ranks by assuming the worst of her condition and making sure she had a chaperone home.

His grand and honorable intention was the very last thing she wanted from him.

She ought to set him straight and tell him she was far from drunk—not even close after two lightweight pina ladas that contained more fruit juice than alcohol—but what was the fun in that, she decided. However, on a brighter, more appealing note, if stuffy, uptight Cameron Sinclair continued to believe she was tipsy, she might be able to get away with all sorts of outrageous and wicked mischief.

And that was certainly her idea of fun.

That thought improved her mood immensely, because she'd love nothing more than putting one over on this man. If he had the inclination to rescue what he perceived as a damsel in distress, who was she to argue? She'd give him exactly that—a helpless woman in need of saving—until she decided it was time to end the farce and prove to him that she'd been completely lucid the entire time.

The look on his face when he realized the joke was on him was bound to be priceless and worth a good laugh.

With that in mind, she let her body relax and glanced up at him from beneath heavy-lidded lashes. "My mind is functioning just fine, sugar," she refuted in a slow, convincing drawl with the slightest bit of a slur. "See what I mean about you not being able to handle fun?"

The frown creasing his brows deepened into a scowl. "Watching you parade half-naked in a bar full of randy men isn't exactly my idea of fun."

Hmmm, such censure in his tone. That was the thing about Cameron—despite being attracted to her, she knew he disapproved of the way she lived her life, along with her assertive and uninhibited personality. Now, she decided being drunk gave her even more license to be brazen, to touch him without guilt, to enjoy their attraction and find out exactly what kind of temptation Cameron couldn't resist.

She tipped her head, letting her disheveled hair fall around her face, and stared in fascination at his mouth, which had been the source of many of her late-night fantasies. She wondered what it would take to see those lips smile at her in one of those slow, sexy grins she knew he was capable of. She wondered how his seductive mouth would feel pressed against her own in a deep, hot kiss, or skimming along her neck, her breasts…

She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight, and gave into the urge to place her hands on his chest. She'd thought a lot about his incredibly honed body and what it looked like naked. She figured this was probably the closest she'd ever get to finding out—by feel.