Page 7 of One Night Redemption

“I’m not really into decorating,” he says. “I’ve lived here for three years now, and it still feels temporary. I don’t know why.”

“Because it’s empty. Homes don’t just make themselves, Cam. You have to put your stamp on it if you want it to be yours.”

“Does that apply to everything, Cass? You, for instance.”

“Nope. If I’m yours, babe, it’s because I choose to be … not because you claimed me like a fucking neanderthal.”

He holds up the box of Fruity Pebbles. “Clearly cavemen are your type.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. This is the dangerous part. Wanting him is one thing. But these quiet moments where he makes me laugh, where he makes me—no, where I let myself—think we could have a future, that’s where the real danger lies. “I’m particular about my breakfast foods. I figured you ought to know that before I spend the night.”

“Are you? Spending the night, that is.”

“That depends on you,” I tell him. “I’m here because I want you to take me to bed. How long I stay … well, that’s still up for negotiations.”

He puts the rest of the groceries in the pantry and then stalks toward me. In every romance novel I’ve ever read, that’s how it’s described. But I’ve never seen it up close and in person. I’ve never felt more hunted and more like I want to be caught. As he gets closer to me, I can read the intent in his eyes—to claim, to devour, to conquer. And the heat. The heat in his gaze is unmistakable. I take a step back. It’s not because I’m afraid of him, but because I need to catch my breath. That look in his eyes is way more intense than I expected.

In two long strides, he’s caught up to me. There’s no more talking. No more joking around. He slides one hand around to the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair and tugging my head back with just enough force to make it hot, wild, and a little dangerous.

“You’re not ready for me to tell you how long I want to keep you in my bed. But we’ll start with the night. I want you, Cass. I want to touch you and taste you until you’re half-crazy with it and begging me to fuck you … but first, I need a shower. I’m too goddamn sweaty and gross to even touch you, but I can’t help myself.”

“You want some company in there?”

“You wet and naked? I’d have to be a fucking idiot to say no to that … but you spend the night here, especially with that pink Caddy out front, people will know. They’ll know and they’ll talk. You ready for that?”

“No. But I’m less ready to walk out that door without getting what I want … and for the record, Cam, that’s you. I’m done talking until we’re both naked.”

I let out a squeal of surprise as he picks me up. He’s literally packing me to the bathroom on his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. It’s not exactly romantic, but it’s a hell of a view. His ass is perfection.

Chapter

Six

Cam

The steam in the shower covers us in a haze. Her dark hair hangs wet around her shoulders, her face scrubbed free of makeup. It gives her the appearance of being about five years younger than she is, and my heart catches in my chest.

"What?" She speaks loud enough so that I can hear her over the noise of the water beating down around us.

I shake my head, gaze eating up her body, from the toes of her feet painted a hot pink, all the way up past a stomach and thighs that most would think were a little too round. Then over a rack that I could only dream about as a teenager jacking off in my bedroom, to her pouty red lips. "You're a fuckin' masterpiece, Cass. I hope enough people have told you that in your life -"

"They haven't. But keep sayin' it big guy, it helps me believe you.”

"Fuck them." I wrap my hand around her neck, pulling her body into mine. "They didn't know what they had, and I'm honestly not sorry. I've got you here now, because they were stupid. But I do have a dilemma." My gaze rakes over her again.

"What's that?" Her tongue peaks out between her lips to capture the moisture of the shower.

"You look so perfect and sweet, but this body?" I run my hand down and along her hip, before following the curve around to her ass. "It's pure sin. I mean, the shit I wanna do to you? I'm definitely going to have to ask for permission."

She swallows visibly, her Adam's apple bobbing. "You don't have to ask. You have it. Whatever you want to do, I'm all in, Cam. If I'm going to do this with you, then I'm going to do it, not half-ass it."

Half fucking feral, I lean in and take her mouth. My hand that was holding the nape of her neck, sneaks back around to grab hold of her jaw, keeping her mouth on mine. Her hands grip my skin, grasping for purchase. When they go around my neck and tighten, I finally let go and move my hands down to her thighs, spreading them, and pulling them up around my waist. A grunt works its way past her throat when I press her back against the shower. "Sorry."

"You're fine."

Now that I have her right where I want her, I'm unsure of what I should do. This is the type of shit I'd typically take for granted in any of my other relationships, but not this time, and not with her. An idea pops into my head. A mischievous smirk spreads across my face. "What? What are you doing?" She questions, eyes suspicious.

"You'll like it." Before she can say anything else, I'm using the muscles I've gained for my line of work to hold her up, body pressing into the shower wall, while I go to my knees. Her squeal of surprise is cute. Her voice cracks, and then a moan replaces it when I position myself between her spread thighs, draping them over my shoulders. "You don't have much to hang on to, but I suggest my hair if you do need something. Sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself." I advise as I dive straight between those thighs, my mouth focused on one thing, and one thing only.

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