She had dressed in a slim black skirt that ended just above her knees. The black tailored suit conformed to her figure and gave her a strictly business look that was slightly softened by a silky knit dove gray pullover she wore with it.
The pumps gave her an added height, putting her head at his throat rather than his chest. But he still towered over her, still surrounded her.
“I just need to get my purse and case.” She turned to do just that, when she found herself swung around, pressed against the wall, as he kicked the door closed and his lips covered hers.
Oh, man. This was the way a girl needed to wake up in the morning. It had coffee beat all to hell.
His lips parted hers swiftly, his tongue licking over them before touching her tongue and jerking her into the maelstrom of sensation she had sworn she would avoid.
Her arms were around his neck, her fingers spearing into his thick black hair to hold him closer to her, to retain the heat of his kiss and the luscious, wild hunger of it, for just another second. Just another second, then she would force herself to pull back from him.
“Damn.” He pulled back, staring down at her, his gaze hooded, as she forced her eyes open. “That’s better than coffee, first thing in the morning.”
He mirrored her own thoughts.
His hands moved from the hold he had on her head, smoothed down her back to her hips, as a slow, lazy grin pulled at his lips.
That knowing smile snapped strength back into her spine. She stiffened and pulled quickly away from him.
“That was completely unfair,” she informed him as she jerked her purse and leather case from the table just inside the room.
“What was unfair about it?” Laughter lingered in his voice. “I thought it was pretty damned hot myself.”
“Guerilla warfare,” she muttered. “That’s what it is.”
He snorted at that as she turned around. “Sweetheart, guerilla warfare is getting you in the bed, stripped and f**ked blind again before you know what’s hit you. I’m giving you fair warning.”
Was that what he called it? Fair warning? In her opinion, he should rethink that description. It was guerilla warfare. The only difference was, she recognized the subtle war being played out between them.
“I’m giving you fair warning, you’re picking on the wrong girl,” she informed him as she stepped out into the hall.
“Hmm.” He hummed his disagreement, rather than arguing with her, as they moved to the elevators.
Once inside, after the doors closed, the hand laying low on her waist moved lower.
Jaci’s eyes widened.
“Stop that,” she hissed at him, then hissed it to herself mentally as she felt her rear clench in pleasure.
She was aware of the cameras in the elevator. The all-seeing eye behind the lens couldn’t detect that his fingers had moved to the crevice between her thighs, where they played with destructive strokes.
She was getting incredibly wet. Wetter than she had been when he released her from the wall moments ago.
“Do you think they can see that flush of arousal on your face?” He bent close, his lips at her ear, as she stood stiffly beside him. “And your ni**les are hard, Jaci. I wonder if the security personnel watching this are getting as turned on as I am.”
She was saved from having to form a reply by the light ping of warning that the elevator was drawing to a stop. A second later, Cam’s hand was once more at her lower back.
He escorted her from the elevator, and Jaci fought to restrain her breathing, to keep from panting. He’d always had the ability to do that to her, to make her breathing too hard, her imagination too intense. Especially after last night’s dreams and the night before in his and Chase’s arms.
“You haven’t had any questions about the club,” he stated as they were driving from the hotel long minutes later, heading back to the Sinclair mansion. “Most women would be full of questions.”
“It’s a men’s club, and it’s full of perverts. What more is there to know?” she asked mockingly, knowing how judgmental she sounded and at this point not really caring.
She was too damned curious about the club though, and she didn’t want to be. She had learned a long time ago that her curiosity could be dangerous. It had been her curiosity that had gotten her into the trouble at the Robertses’ mansion. She wasn’t going to make that mistake anywhere else.
Cam chuckled at her response. “How do you define a pervert, Jaci? Anyone who doesn’t do it straight missionary, or are there other allowances?”
“Acceptable sex is allowable,” she said carefully, staring straight ahead as Cam drove.
“Acceptable sex? What the hell is acceptable sex?” He shifted gears, and his body tensed and moved as he worked the clutch and the gear shift, and maneuvered the Jaguar through the heavy city traffic.
“Stop lusting after me while I drive,” he drawled. “Answer me, Jaci, what’s acceptable sex?”
“I am not lusting after you while you drive. And you’re a man. Men know what acceptable sex is.”
“But you just called me a pervert,” he pointed out, his voice vibrating with laughter. “How would I know what acceptable sex is?”
“Have you ever had sex without Chase?” She turned to look at him, brushing her hair from her face, as he shifted gears again and accelerated through the thinning traffic.
“Often.” The grin that tugged at his lips infuriated her.
“Do you have sex with Chase?” She snapped out. She was sick of the questions raging inside her, the need to know, just to understand.
He glared at her, offended male sensibilities filling his expression.
“Damn, Jaci, are you trying to make me lose my breakfast here?”
“It’s a reasonable question, Cam,” she pointed out heatedly. “Give me one reason, just one reason why you would have even considered wanting another man to have sex with your lover, in any way, let alone while you’re there? How can you justify that to yourself, let alone to your lovers? How can you justify that to any woman who would care for you?”
Silence filled the vehicle. There was only the powerful hum of the motor, the sound of the gears shifting.
“Does there have to be a reason why?” he finally asked, his voice dark, dangerous. “Don’t deny you enjoyed it. You were screaming for more, Jaci.”
“That’s not the point. There’s always a reason why.” With Cam and Chase, there was no other option. Everything they did had a reason. They were controlled, determined, exacting. They wouldn’t do something so dark as sharing their lovers without a reason.