Twister: Party Games, Book 3 (9 page)

He blinked, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. Something told Cameron the confession had taken him by surprise. The way his shoulders straightened, the way his nostrils flared. Hell, it had taken
her
by surprise. And shed him in a totally unexpected light.

Normal. Right now, right here, he was like a normal man. Admitting things no hyper-influential, ridiculously powerful business tycoon admitted.

Cameron’s belly flip-flopped. This was the man she’d wanted to meet tonight. The one she’d suspected existed every time Lillian spoke of her brother. And yet it unnerved her more than the arrogant, dominating Lachlan of the party. This was a Lachlan she could spend a long time talking with. A long time getting to know beyond the potency of sex.

This Lachlan—

“Hey, check it out.”

She started, watching as the man messing with her head jogged a few feet away from her. He dropped into a crouch and retrieved something white and round from under the long bench skirting the field’s sideline.

He turned back to her, holding up a soccer ball, a wide grin on his face. “Wanna play?”

Before she could answer, he walked backward onto the field, bouncing the ball on his knees as he did so. His grin stretched wider. A fluid energy took his body, his arms loose beside him, his legs pumping up and down in alternating pistons.

A purely female side of Cameron, the primitive sexual side that recognised a prime male specimen, reacted to the sight. Tight heat speared into her pussy and her pulse quickened. Damn it, had she thought him sexy before?

“Come on,” he called to her from the field, flashing her a smile so relaxed and open it stole her breath. “You already know I suck. Imagine how good it’ll feel to whip
the
Lachlan McDermott’s arse.”

It was the self-effacing statement that did it. Or maybe the open grin. Or the boyish cheekiness. Or all of the above. Or something else altogether different. Whatever it was, Cameron couldn’t fight it. She jogged onto the field a few feet away from him, uncaring of the fact she wasn’t wearing the right attire for kicking a ball. She was happy. How was that possible, given her early dread at the Porsche owner’s groping? At Lachlan’s cutting attitude toward her career?

Because the groper isn’t here. And neither is
that
Lachlan. The Lachlan in front of you is.

The ball arced across the air between them, bouncing on the ground a good foot to the right of where she stood. She laughed. “Is that the best you can do?”

He held his arms out wide, his smile mischievous. “I’m afraid so.”

The next forty minutes were unexpectedly wonderful. They kicked the ball back and forth, laughing at their own atrocious skills. In amongst it, discussions took place on the best sport movies, the best sport stars, the best movie stars, the best movies. By the time Cameron’s unshod toes were too sore to kick the ball again, she and Lachlan had agreed to disagree Robert DeNiro was the greatest actor ever to grace the screens, Beckham was better than Pele, Jaws was infinitely better than Piranha 3D and Vegemite on toast was better than peanut butter.

When Lachlan surprised her with a deft sidestepping steal, hooking the ball from her rather pathetic footwork with a jubilant
woop
, she burst out laughing and wrapped her arms around his waist as she fought to reclaim the ball.

“Cheating,” he laughed, his own arms draping her back and shoulders as their shins knocked together. “Cheating. Ref, she’s cheating.”

Fresh laughter bubbled up from her chest and she staggered backward, Lachlan’s hands on her back the only thing stopping her landing on her arse.

“Do you see this, Ref?” he called out, looking around the dark soccer field, his face a mask of mock disbelief, his arms pulling her closer as they both stumbled across the grass. “Full body contact! Sin bin! Penalty! I call foul!”

Two shuffling step later and they both hit the ground, their laughter floating on the silent air, the ball forgotten. Cameron pushed herself up on her elbows, puffing at the tousled strands of her hair now dangling over her face. “You’re right.” She shook her head, grinning. “You
do
suck.”

He laughed, rolling onto his back to thread his fingers behind his head. “Told you so.” His smile stretched wider. “Good thing I exhibited a head for business at an early age, yes?”

She dropped back to the ground beside him, threading her fingers on the flat plane of her belly. The grass was soft beneath her, the blades tickling the back of her thighs. She bent her legs, resting her right calf on her left knee. “Yes. You could say that.”

He chuckled at her quick agreement, the sound a low caress beside her. “Don’t care about offending me or anything, will you.”

She smiled, letting her gaze wander through the stars above them. “I’ll try not to.”

He snorted. “You’re not very good for my ego.”

Rolling her head to the side, she gave him a broad smirk. “You’re welcome.”

The comment made him laugh and his gaze never left her face. “Tease.”

The pit of Cameron’s belly fluttered a little at the word, her pussy echoing the sentiment.

A long second stretched between them, Cameron incapable of tearing her stare from Lachlan.

Did she even want to?

Her heart quickened. No, she didn’t. She wanted to look at him. She wanted to keep looking at him as he rose from the ground and covered her body with his. She wanted to gaze into his eyes as he slowly undressed her and buried his length into her—

“So tell me,” he said, his voice low and somewhat unsteady, “what’s the story with the Mini? It’s not the kind of car I’d expect a super model to be driving.”

Her breath slipped from her in a hitching laugh at the unexpected question. She rolled her head away from him and cast the dark shape of her car sitting in the car park a long look. Her heart hammered in her throat. Her sex throbbed. She wanted him to make love to her. So badly she ached. Wanted him to make love to her as the joy of their laughter still warmed her. Licking her lips, she studied her Mini. It represented her new life. Her true life. Did she tell him that?

“After I stopped modeling I took up restoring old cars. Classic junkers mainly. MGs, old Jags, the odd Torana. The Mini over there was my first. I found it in a junkyard up the coast, paid two hundred bucks for it and hired a garage spot to work on it.” She turned back to him, finding him on his side watching her, his head resting in his hand. “By the time I finished, I was hooked.”

A quiet intensity shone in Lachlan’s eyes. “And that’s all you did? Work on cars? Or did you become Cam, the secretive photographer, as well?”

Her belly knotted and she returned her stare to the stars. “No. Cam the secretive photographer came a few years later. After I completed a degree in photography via correspondence.”

“So holed up in a garage, studying by correspondence and closed-set photography shoots. Can I ask what’s the reason you keep away from people?”

His question twisted her already tight stomach into a tighter knot. “You can ask,” she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded. “But I won’t answer.”

She couldn’t. It was too…

Embarrassing? Traumatic? Tormenting?

Personal. Too personal. She’d spent seventeen years of her life keeping the world at bay. She wasn’t ready to open herself up to it again, no matter how much she’d laughed with Lachlan on this field. No matter how much she wanted to make love to him.

“Does the way you reacted to the dickhead back at the party have anything to do with it?” Anger cut Lachlan’s calm voice, controlled and cold but anger all the same.

Cameron rolled her head, giving him a steady look. “It does.”

The admission surprised her. She hadn’t expected it. Nor did she expect the gentle touch of his fingers on her jaw as he cupped her face and traced his thumb over her bottom lip. “Is it clichéd of me to say I wish I could take away your pain?”

Her breath caught at his question. “It is if you don’t—”

She didn’t finish. Lachlan’s lips gently brushing hers stopped her words.

He was kissing her again.

There was nothing aggressive or demanding or dominating about it. His lips explored hers with gentle hesitancy, not so much taking but questioning, waiting to see what she would do, how she would react. He rested his hand on the side of her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, his fingers on her temple. And that was it, the only physical contact of his body on hers—lips, thumb and fingertips. Not even his tongue touched her flesh.

A sweet, unassuming kiss was of such tenderness it was all she could do not to whimper. It was singularly the most exquisite kiss Cameron had ever experienced.

She wanted it never to end. Just as she wanted so much more.

Chapter Five

She was sweetness and softness and smoldering sensuality. She was sin and temptation and vice. She was the fire and the tinder that feed the flame. He’d wanted her for a lifetime. Dreamt of her. Ached for her. Since his balls dropped and his voice cracked, Kole had been his fantasy. And now he was kissing that fantasy and the name Kole never entered Lachlan’s head.

Cameron.

A woman he’d never anticipated. Strong and independent and yet at the same time….what? Fragile? No, that wasn’t right. Vulnerable? Wounded?

Maybe all three. Whatever it was, the driving desire he’d held for her as a hormonally controlled teenager faded to nothing. Hell, the driving lust he’d felt for her back at the party seemed like an insignificant schoolyard crush compared to what he was feeling now. Now, with her soft lips brushing against his, with her warm breath tickling his tongue, the sheer intensity of his desire for her made his heart slam in his chest. With this one almost chaste kiss, his blood roared in his ears, his head swam with pleasure and every molecule in his body thrummed with elemental need.

Christ, how did he walk away from this?

Walk away? Are you a fucking idiot?

The question should have unnerved him. It should have sent disarming ice to his straining, throbbing cock. It didn’t.

He slipped his tongue over the soft fullness of Cameron’s bottom lip, loving the way she whimpered at the caress. She found the open collar of his shirt with her fingers and slipped them over the base of his throat. His cock throbbed in his jeans, her touch close to undoing him. There was nothing overt about it, just Cameron’s fingertips feathering over his skin, but it made the already hot blood in his veins turn molten. She’d touched him. After everything he’d said to her at the party, after his contemptuous slur of her profession, her former life, after the way she’d reacted to the dickhead in the foyer, after the fear in her eyes at the man’s touch…she was responding to Lachlan.

If his lips weren’t so thoroughly engaged with tasting hers, he’d smile.

Christ, walk away? From this? The thought wasn’t even worth considering.

He dipped his tongue past her lips, flicking it over her teeth. She whimpered again at the deeper exploration of her mouth and slid her fingers up to his jaw. She stroked his cheek, the caress growing more urgent as his tongue took greater control of the kiss. When he smoothed his hand from her face, down her chest to capture her breast, the whimpers in her throat turned to a long moan.

Her nipple beaded under his palm, the cool silver of her shirt doing nothing to hide its receptive response. He dragged his thumb pad over its tip, rolling his tongue against hers as he did so. She moaned again, burying her hand in his hair.

The sound of her pleasure made him groan in return. He wanted her so damn much he could barely draw breath. The softness of her small breast under his hand, the tightness of her nipple, the warm pleasure of her kiss, all told him she was aroused as well. But he wanted her to make the next move. After the events leading up to this wonderful moment, he needed her to make the next move. To know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

To know they were equal in their pleasure and desire.

Equal? Since when do you ever care about anyone being your equal?

Never. Until this one woman. Cameron. The woman who was nothing like his fantasy and everything like his true wish.

His head spun. His cock jerked. Fresh blood surged through its turgid length, turning it to an aching rod. The insistent need to bury it into her hot wetness screamed at him with silent urgency. He ignored it, barely.

Her move. Her control.

Her want.

Her pleasure.

She was in control of it all.

As if aware of his surrender, Cameron fisted her hand in his hair. She tugged his head closer to hers, her tongue seeking his with greater hunger. He gave it to her, reveling in her growing ferocity. She moaned again, smoothing one long leg against his. The contact sent fissures of white-hot pleasure through Lachlan and he growled his desire into her mouth. She pressed her hips upward at the sound, her heel dragging down the back of his thigh, over his calf until the curve of her pussy was dangerously close to his straining dick. For a split second, her warmth brushed his erection, an infinitesimal caress that made Lachlan suck in a swift breath. Fuck, it felt so damn good. What would it be like without clothes to separate them?

The urge to flatten her to her back, to strip her and cover her body with his, smashed through him. An urge he would have willingly obeyed before. With any other sexual partner, he was the one in charge. That Cameron was now, that he wanted her to be… The unfamiliar desire was both electrifying and daunting.