Page 55 of The VIP Package

I’m dead asleep at three a.m. when I wake to a pounding at my door. I’m sleep-drunk and dazed, but pretty sure that’s not Sybil’s dainty knock.

“Who is it?” I pad across the room and stretch on tiptoe to peer through the peephole.

Holy shit.

“Ash?”

“Let me in, Camille.” He tugs off his tie and shoves it in his pocket, one sleeve of his shirt already rolled up. “Now.”

“One second.” I’m buck ass naked and my morning breath smells like something died. “I’m indecent.”

“Perfect,” he says as he rolls up the other shirt sleeve. “That’s how I prefer you.”

“Hang on.” I race to the sink and squirt out a fat lump of toothpaste. There’s no time to brush, but I swish it around with some water while finger-combing my hair. I showered four hours ago, so at least I’ve got that going for me.

Or maybe smelling like sex would be a turn on for Ash. That’s assuming he’s here to get naked. I can’t tell from his dark look if he’s turned on or pissed off. Maybe both.

Why is my heart beating like this?

I spit out the toothpaste and race to the door. My sweaty palm slips off the knob as I twist it open.

Goddamn.Ashton Holyfield is an imposing figure.

“Hello.” My voice sounds raspy. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” His smoldering gaze roams my body, then back to my face. “You’re naked.”

“Very observant, Mister Holyfield.” Snatching the front of his shirt, I drag him into my room.

Ash kicks the door shut, backing me up toward the bed. “I needed to see you.”

My breath’s coming fast as I claw at his shirt. “I thought you were spending the night in Negril.”

“You can’t honestly think I’d be able to sleep after that show you put on.” His mouth crashes into mine as we tumble into my sleep-rumpled bedding. “Couldn’t”—he breathes between kisses—“get you”—more kissing, this time in a trail between my breasts—“out of my head.”

“I missed you.” It’s silly to say, since I’ve only known him for three days. “I hope that video call was okay.”

Ash stops suckling my breasts to give me a bewildered expression. “Surely you can’t be serious.”

“I am serious.” I bite back the urge to giggle. “And don’t call me Sh?—”

He kisses me back into silence, which is just as well. His hands feel insane on my body, greedy and hot and demanding. I unbutton his shirt, shoving it over his shoulders like it personally offended me.

Ash yanks his arm from a sleeve as he comes up for air. “That was the hottest fucking call I’ve ever taken.”

I laugh as I tug at his belt. “Glad you liked it.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes.” I sink my teeth into his peck. “But I desperately craved your cock.”

The organ in question gives a sizeable throb behind the fly of his trousers. “My cock says the feeling is mutual.”

“I thought feelings weren’t part of the equation.”

His icy eyes blaze, and for three breathless seconds, I’m afraid he’ll get up and run. Have I crossed some invisible line?

Instead, he just growls. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to me.” He goes back to kissing my breasts as I work his cock free from his pants. “Some kind of witchcraft, maybe.”

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