Page 63 of Slots & Sticks
The compliment should be easy, but my voice shakes. Something shifts behind his eyes—that careful control he always keeps slips, and for a second, I see every unspoken thing between us. My pulse trips over itself.
“You two are adorable.” Knova plucks the bouquet from Camden’s hands. “I’ll put these in water. Now, is it fair to assume that you two won’t be coming back tonight?”
“The dogs…” I begin.
“Will be fine. Viv and I already talked about staying. Grady’s on baby-duty tonight, and my dad already loaned me the spare key Ranger left at his place.” Knova holds up a key from her pocket as evidence. “So off you go, and we’ll see you tomorrow. I promise we won’t trash the place too much.”
Camden extends his arm to me. “Sounds like they thought this through already. Shall we?”
My fingers slide into the crook of his elbow. Warm, solid, grounding. Everything I’ve been afraid to want. I draw a breath that feels too big for my chest. Tonight isn’t just dinner—it’s the start of something we’ll never be able to undo.
I nod to Knova. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t.” She pats Bo’s head a few times, then hands my small overnight bag to Cam. “Love is great and all, but Viktor got a new video game and he insists the sound quality is better without headphones. He’s been up until three o’clock in the morning for the last week fighting dragons at full volume. If anything, you’re doing me a favor by averting his impending murder. I’ll also make sure he goes over to your place, Cam, so he can check on Soot and clean her litter. The perfect job for him.”
* * *
Cam valets the Escalade at Wynn and then drops our overnight bags at the bell desk to be taken directly to our room. I had forgotten that there was a restaurant at Wynn with the same name as my mother until Camden and I were literally walking past it. Fortunately, our reservations are for Casa Playa.
“Have you ever eaten here?” I ask.
“Nope. It’ll be an adventure.” He winks at me, and my face burns hot. I’m not sure that Mexican food is the ideal meal for tonight, but when a server walks by with a seafood platter, my doubts vanish.
“We’re getting that, right?” I ask.
Camden turns his head to see what I’m looking at. When he does, he nods. “Definitely.”
By the time our first round of cocktails arrives, I’m able to relax. This is still the Camden I’ve always known. We chat aboutthe usual things: books I’m reading, how the dogs are adjusting, what needs to happen at the house, and dumb things our friends have said. We stuff ourselves with seafood, carne asada tacos, and a platter of churros. I forget to be worried, because I’m so happy.
After dinner, we amble hand in hand to the water and light show. I stand with my back to Camden’s chest, with his arms around me and his chin resting on the top of my head. This would already be a fantastic real first date.
But the night isn’t over yet. We head to the front desk to check in to our room for the night.
As soon as we step into our room, which is actually a suite, Camden starts laughing. “What’s this? A rectangular bed? Whoever designed this room doesn’t understand romance. Where are the bears?”
“There’s no taxidermy, either.” I click my tongue in feigned disappointment. “No taste, I tell you.”
Camden laughs and pulls me close. As soon as I’m pressed against him, our lighthearted mood shifts. His hands are on me, and suddenly I’m sixteen again, dreaming of a kiss that never came. Now it’s real—hot, heavy, pressing against my ribs—and all I can do is try not to fall apart before we even get started.
My body remembers exactly how he made me feel the other night, and I want more. My trusty magic wand vibrator can’t compare to the thrill of having his mouth on my skin, or his fingers inside me.
“Cam…” I stand on my toes.
He cups my cheek with one hand and bends to kiss me. His eyes close before mine do. His tongue traces the seam of my lips until I open my mouth. His kiss is hungry and urgent, and he pulls me tight to him, so that I can feel the growing evidence of his arousal pressed against my belly.
He straightens a little, breaking our kiss. “I want to see you this time,” he says.
I turn my back to him and scoop my hair aside. I want him to see me this time, too. Not just naked. Bare. I want to be something soft he’s allowed to touch without breaking. I want to make him ache the way he makes me ache. “Help me with the zipper.”
Last time, in that janky little hotel, I was so desperate to get undressed that I tossed my own shirt and bra aside in my eagerness. I had no idea that the simple act of Camden resting one hand on my hip and undoing the zipper of my dress with the other could turn my knees to jelly.
Camden peels the dress off my shoulders, and the material puddles on the floor at my feet. He sucks in a breath behind me. Not a groan. Not a growl. Just this sharp little inhale, like I knocked the wind out of him. I don’t turn around—I let him look.
His lips brush my neck, raising goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin. I hiss and lean into his caress, reveling in each path of his palms as his hands explore my hips, my thighs, my belly… He hasn’t even touched me in any of the good places, and I’m already on fire. My panties are damp and clinging, just from this. From him.
“Come here,” Camden whispers, guiding me toward the mattress. I end up perched on the edge of the bed, wearing only my bra, panties, and heels. Camden kneels between my legs to let his hands trace my thighs, down to my calves. His eyes move over me like he’s memorizing. Like he knows this moment will never happen again—the first time he gets to touch me with intention. Not fumbling in a hotel room. Not driven by desperation. This is a choice. A vow. He guides one of my feet into his lap with a gentle grip on my ankle so that he can unbuckle first one shoe, then the other.
He doesn’t look up. Just holds my heel in his palm, offering something back.
