Page 131 of Cold Feet
"And mozzarella sticks!" Cam yelled from the other side of the bedroom as I read off our order to the room service waiter.
"Thirty minutes," I said, hanging up. "Now, let's get you out of these clothes and see what other damage you're hiding."
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning despite his exhaustion. "Trying to seduce me, Decker? Because I should warn you, I'm running on about two hours of sleep and pure adrenaline. Probably not my best performance, but for you, I'm pretty sure I could rally. I mean really, did youseeme out there tonight?"
He winked playfully.
Aw. Therewas the charmer I knew so well.
"Trying to make sure you don't have any broken ribs, Murphy," I countered, but I was grinning right back at him. "Besides, your best performance is just existing. The rest is bonus."
His expression softened in a way that made my chest tight. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Say exactly what I need to hear."
As I stepped closer to Cam,I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a mixture of hours of exertion and the intense chemistry that always sparked between us. I reached out, my fingers lightly brushing against his shoulders as I helped him take off his jacket, the cool fabric sliding away under my touch. His eyes locked onto mine, holding me captive with their intense gaze. I could see the faint traces of pain etched on his face, but there was something else too – a hunger, a desire that mirrored my own.
With careful, deliberate movements, I began to unbutton his shirt, my knuckles grazing against the firm planes of his chest. Each button revealed more of his tanned skin, and I couldn't help but notice the way his breath hitched slightly as my fingers brushed against him. The air between us was charged, filled with an electricity that made every touch, every glance, feel amplified. It was hard to ignore the magnetic attraction that drew us together. As I pushed the shirt off his shoulders, my fingers lingered on his bare skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the warmth of his body. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, caught in a moment filled with unspoken promises and a connection that was impossible to deny.
The overhead light revealed a map of bruises across his ribs – purple and blue blooming like violent flowers against his skin. A few were clearly from the fight, but others looked older.
"Cam, these look awful."
"Ran into the boards," he admitted sheepishly. "Wasn't watching where I was going."
"Because you were distracted."
"Because I was missing you," he corrected. "There's a difference. Doc cleared me already, promise. Nothing's broken, just colorful."
I traced a particularly nasty bruise gently, feeling the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breathing. He shivered under my touch.
"I hate that you got hurt defending me," I said, tenderly kissing each bruise.
He caught my hand, pressing it flat against his chest where his heart beat steady and strong. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Every time. A hundred times. A thousand. Until every jackass in the league knows that you're off limits."
The possessive intensity in his voice sent heat through me that had nothing to do with anger.
"You're mine," he said roughly. "And I'm yours. And this isn't fake anymore."
"I'm yours," I murmured as I rose up on my toes, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're mine." I leaned in, pressing my lips softly to his, initiating a kiss that was slow yet charged with an electric desperation. Cam's hands found their way to my hips, his fingers sliding under the jersey to trace the bare skin underneath, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I gasped softly into his mouth, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. He took this as an invitation, deepening the kiss with a fervor that left me weak in the knees. His lips were firm yet tender, moving against mine with an intoxicating rhythm. I melted against him, careful not to press too hard against his bruises, yet driven by an irresistible need to be closer. The air around us seemed to crackle with the intensity of our mutual attraction, every touch and every breath heightening the powerful emotions and sexual chemistry that pulsed between us.
"You're killing me wearing this," he muttered against my lips. "My name on your back, my number... Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
I let my hand wander, tracing a slow, deliberate path down his torso. I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, the subtle shift of his muscles as he responded to my touch. My fingers found the waistband of his pants, and I could sense his breath hitch as I lightly ran my hand over his suit pants – over the length of his cock – feeling it strain against the fabric and harden further beneath my touch. "Hmmm...well, I think I havesomeidea what that does to you," I teased, a playful smile dancing on my lips. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with the obvious relief of being together, and the undeniable magnetism that had always been between us. Cam's eyes darkened with desire, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot on my skin. I let out a soft squeak as he nipped at my lower lip in retaliation, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent a shiver of anticipation down to my toes. Every touch, every glance, was fuel igniting the fire that burned between us.
His hands started to trace the curve of my waist, sending waves of warmth radiating through me. I could feel his breath, soft and rhythmic, against my neck, igniting a shiver that coursed down my spine. His fingers gently skimmed the edge of my jersey, teasing the delicate skin beneath, making my heart race with anticipation. I could almost taste the sweetness of his lips, just inches away from mine. My body yearned for his touch, especially after all the uncertainty of the last few days, and I suddenly felt like I couldn't get enough of him--like I'dneverget enough of him. I had practically forgotten about food entirely, lost in the overwhelming intensity of our connection, when a sudden knock at the door sharply interrupted our moment, pulling us back to reality.
"Terrible timing," Cam groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.
"Food first," I said firmly, though my voice was breathier than I'd intended. "Then... everything else."
"Everything else," he repeated with a movie star grin that made my stomach flip. "I like the sound of that."
We scrambled to the bathroom for robes, laughing as we nearly tripped over each other. I caught sight of us in the mirror – both flushed, hair messed up, looking thoroughly debauched despite being mostly clothed – and had to bite back a giggle.
The room service attendant maintained admirable professionalism despite our obvious state, setting up the food with efficiency before disappearing with a generous tip from Cam.
