Page 75 of Unstoppable Love

He scooped me up like I was a pint-sized princess and kissed my forehead. “You have the best way of making me feel like a god.”

Once in my bathroom, he set me on the counter before he turned his back to me, opened my shower door, and flipped on the water. “Damn…that bathtub is almost as big as mine.”

It was a dual soaker, currently with a bamboo shelf braced over the top of it with a candle and miniature lighter.

“I love it.” I’d used it twice in the week since I’d lived there.

“We’re definitely taking a bath before I leave again.”

Reality weighed on my shoulders. He was here now, but he’d be leaving. “When will that be?”

“Tuesday night. Not sure I can push another early Wednesday leave time. I was late the other day, and Coach wasn’t happy about it.”

“Oh.”

He came to me then, resecured in his dress pants, and cupped my cheeks. “We have the rest of the weekend until Tuesday to do whatever you want. Go to the ranch or see your parents. Hang out in town or stay secluded in this house. And once I go back on Tuesday night, I’ll be back here Friday after practice. I’ll only be gone a few days at a time, Ava.”

“I know.” But right then, it didn’t feel like nearly enough time together.

He kissed me and helped shimmy me out of my dress until it pooled at my feet. “Take your shower.”

“You’re not joining me?”

“I see you naked for another split second and that shower is only going to lead to us getting dirty again. And I was pretty rough with you, so I want to take a break.” He kissed me again and made a delightful dance slip down my back straight to between my thighs. “We’ll get there. Later, though. I promise.”

He held my hand, apparently taking my comment about my legs not working seriously, and as he closed the door behind me, disappointment hit and swirled. I turned and caught his gaze through the mirror reflection on the wall opposite me.

He turned to me. “You don’t like that?”

We had spent so many years apart. So many lost moments. And we’d continue to have so many days separating us. For years possibly. Saying hello and goodbye would be said more frequently than obscure questions like “What’s for dinner?” The thought made my throat constrict, and I looked away, shaking my head.

I stepped into the water’s downpour and squeezed my eyes closed. If he left, I’d cry. If he didn’t leave, I was probably going to cry anyway.

A warm hand covered my shoulder, and a sob broke through.

Cameron turned me, and I found myself held against his solid, rock-hard chest with the perfect smattering of chest hair around his own nipples.

“All you have to do is ask, Ava, and I’ll give you everything I can.”

I nodded against him. This was embarrassing. Maybe it was hormones crashing from the brain-frying kitchen sexcapades. If I wasn’t trying to regather my senses and stop my tears, I would have laughed.

God, I loved being there with him. In his arms. Despite our crazy and wild beginning and last couple of weeks, Cameron has always been a part of my home.

His thumb brushed my chin, tilting my head back, and his lips met mine. He kissed me softly, tenderly, and as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth, his hands went to my hair, running his hands through it as the water sluiced down my back. “Let me take care of you then. Clean you up.”

I lifted to my toes and kissed the divot at the bottom of his throat. “Thank you.”

Our hands roamed and washed each other’s bodies. Cam teased me with his fingers, and I teased him with my hand wrapped around his thick length. He was hard the entire shower and only let me play for so long before brushing my hand away and kissing away the sting of rejection with a promised “later.”

We showered and dried off, never once taking our eyes off each other. While I dried off and dressed, Cameron ran outside and grabbed the duffel bag he’d left in the truck on his arrival.

It wasn’t until we were back in my kitchen, the moon high in the sky and digging through my fridge for drinks and snacks, when I finally thought to ask, “You happy with how you played today?”

How rude of me. In my defense, there hadn’t been much time in between his bossy greeting and getting eaten on my island.

The reminder warmed my cheeks, not that they could get warmer. As soon as Cameron washed my clit and called me a good girl while I rubbed myself against him, I’d been flushed. Wanting.

He opened a bottle of water while I laid out sliced cheese, sausage, and rolled prosciutto. A refilled glass of wine appeared, and I reached for it.

---