Page 8 of Keep

“Don’t worry about that,” Cami said as she slipped into my arms. “I’ll clean it all up. My mom should pursue a hobby that’s healthier than cactus genocide anyway.”

Holding her always felt as natural as breathing. The floodlight clicked off now that I wasn’t in the path of the motion sensor. My hands settled on the curve of her waist and I pulled her closer while awakening a few feelings below the belt.

“Did you mean that? About things getting pornographic?” I asked.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and smiled up at me in the darkness. “No.”

“Tease.”

“Prowler.” She wrinkled her nose. “What was your plan anyway?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d knock on your bedroom window, deliver a Shakespearean ode and fuck you against the stucco wall over there.”

Cami clucked with mock disapproval. “Some might say it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the night before the wedding.”

“It’s dark out. And I’m not worried about bad luck.”

“What are you worried about Dalton?”

“Nothing.” I planted a kiss on her lips, every important impulse demanding to take more. My voice lowered to a husky whisper. “There’s nothing to worry about, Camille. Tomorrow will be incredible.”

She pressed into me with a happy sigh. “It will be, won’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“I almost can’t believe that by this time tomorrow I’ll be your wife.”

I slid my hand inside the elastic waistband of her shorts. “All mine. To do with as I please.”

Cami was amused. “That makes it sound like you’re going to carry me to your cave by my hair.”

I snuck a finger into her panties, felt how much she liked it. “We can play that game if you want to.”

“I want to,” she breathed. She moved her hand low and tinkered with my zipper. “But I need a little something from you now.”

I flicked the snap of my jeans open with one hand while the other continued to explore the inside of her underpants. There was no need to wait until the wedding night. I’d want her just as bad tomorrow as I did tonight.

“I can give you whatever you need, honey.”

Cami abruptly withdrew her hand from my dick, reached around and slapped me on the ass. “Go home, Dalton.”

“What?”

She wriggled out of my grip and even in the pale moonlight I could see her teasing grin. “I said go home. I need to get some sleep so I don’t have bags under my eyes when I am immortalized in our wedding photos.”

My brain was catching up to the turn of events but my dick was still in sex mode. “Come on, you know you always sleep better after an orgasm.”

Cami was already backing up in the direction of the window. She blew me a kiss. “Good night, my love.”

With a groan I tucked my dick away. There was nothing to do but turn around and retreat. My shoe kicked a pottery fragment.

“Shit,” I said. “Is there a broom around here?”

“I told you not to worry about that,” Cami said. “Cassie and I will deal with it.”

I didn’t like leaving a mess behind. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“Yes. Show up on time to marry me tomorrow.”

“I’ll be on time,” I promised. “Anyway, I really just came here tonight to say one thing to you.”

She cocked her head. “And what’s that?”

“I can’t fucking wait to marry you, Camille Gentry.”

Now that I’d delivered my statement I hopped the gate far more artfully than I had the first time and headed for my truck, grinning the whole way.

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