Page 70 of Puck Struck
He trails behind me, ignoring my rhetorical question as I walk up the front steps. “You sure this won’t be a problem? I don’t want to disturb Tessa and Ethan.” He pauses for a second. “Oh, wait. How come they weren’t at the game? I figured they must go to your home games, right?”
I fish my keys out of my pocket. “Yeah, they do. And they planned to come tonight, but Ethan was feeling tired, so she decided it was best for him to stay home and rest. And don’t worry about disturbing them. I texted her to let her know we were coming back together and Ethan is already asleep.”
Cam’s shoulder’s relax. “Okay.”
Pushing open the door, I’m greeted by the rich scent of chocolate wafting out of the kitchen. “My sister really is the best,” I say. With a glance over my shoulder. “Her browniesare criminally good. She must’ve baked these when I told her I was bringing you back here. Hope you’re not allergic to nuts.”
“Nowthatwould be criminal,” Cam says with a snicker as we kick off our shoes and walk into the kitchen together.
The brownies are still on the cooling rack, so I place them on a plate in the center of the kitchen island.
“Milk?” Cam asks.
I nod, turning to grab two glasses out of one of the cabinets. “Yeah.”
He opens the refrigerator door and whips around to look at me after a full minute. “Wait, your shit is alphabetized. How do you ever find anything?”
“Because it’salphabetizedand I learned my ABCs very fucking early on,” I say. “If I want raspberries, I know exactly where to look because I know where I keep the stuff beginning with R.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t make sense. Like all dairy should be together, all vegetables, all fruits.” He furrows his brow at me. “This is too complicated. Beyond OCD. I need a food map or something to get around in here.”
“It goes from top to bottom. M is in the middle.”
He makes a face. “I know where M is, thank you very much. I learned my ABCs too, although it wasn’t back in the Stone Age.”
“Ha ha. Just pour the milk, rookie.”
I can’t help but smile because even though he may still be reeling about everything happening with James and Keating, he’s still Cam, quick with a smile and a joke. No wonder why the media loves him.
It’s why I?—
Fuck. No. I was not gonna think that.
I just…it’s why I can’t fight against my attraction tohim. His aura is strong and it glows so bright. I can’t help but be pulled into it. And truthfully, it’s exactly where I want to be.
I finish off one brownie and slowly drink my milk, watching Cam morph into a vacuum and polish off five brownies of his own.
“They’re still warm. Won’t that bother your stomach?”
“Nope,” he mumbles through the first mouthful of his sixth brownie. “But I guess you elderly folk have to be careful,” he says, pointing at my empty plate. “One and done, yeah?”
“Careful. You’re starting to make me regret bringing you here.” I drain the glass and place it on the counter.
He guzzles the rest of his milk and puts the glass down in front of him. His eyes blaze, the green flecks of light sparkling, illuminated by the pendant lights hanging over us. He takes a step toward me.
“Does that mean you want me to leave?” His voice is husky, his tone now back to the cocky one I know and have grown to appreciate.
“No,” I say, the word catching in my throat as I grip the countertop with one hand.
“You sure about that?” He reaches a hand out and slides it down the side of my face. “Because I can just go. And you won’t have to regret anything.”
“I am. You’re not. And I won’t.” With my heart thrashing wildly, I pull him close and crush my lips against his. His hand gets lost in the back of my hair, fingers tugging it tight as I plunder his hungry mouth. Our tongues twist and tangle, coiling heat flooding my insides.
God, he feels so fucking good, his thick, muscled arms holding me close, fingers pressing into my spine in a way that makes my knees buckle.
That one kiss we shared was amazing but this…this is an otherworldly connection, a carnal explosion of lust, need, and desire. He drags my bottom lip through his teeth and I don’t even bother to silence the moan that bubbles in my throat.
I grip the sides of his face, our foreheads pressed together, labored breaths heaving. “I need you naked,” I rasp. “Now.”
