Page 11 of Flirt Like A Pin-Up

I smile, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, and yet bat my lashes and play coy. “What’s that?”

“Come away with me this weekend. Let’s go to the mountains and learn everything there is to know about each other, in and out of bed.”

“That’s a big jump from asking me out on one date.”

“I don’t want to tiptoe into a relationship with you, Margot. If I thought there was a chance you’d say yes, we’d elope tonight.”

I pull back to search his face. If he’s joking, I can’t tell. “You want to marry me?”

He stares into my eyes unflinchingly. “Yes.”

My mouth hangs open. “But you haven’t even fucked me yet.”

His eyes narrow and jaw flexes. “I haven’t made love to you either, and yet, I know I want forever. What does that tell you?”

“You’re crazy.”

“For you, yes.” He cradles my face in his hands, making sure I can’t look anywhere other than into his eyes. “I don’t need to drag this out. I don’t need months or years to figure out what I want. But if you want to take this slow, one date at a time, I can do that, too. As long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

Even though that wasn’t technically a marriage proposal, I believe him. Damn what my mother said—I believe him. Yes, I’m scared of the love he freely offers—I’ve been conditioned to suspect every man’s attention—but I don’t want to drag this out either. I want to be Mrs. Camden Manning. I want to be his, but more so, I want him to be mine. “I’ll have to clear your calendar.”

He smiles. “Let’s grab dinner.”

I chuckle. “We just ate a delicious lunch.”

“Dessert then.”

“Only if we take it to go.” I slide my hands up his lapels and wrap my fingers around his neck, conveying every need I have through my eyes. It’s not even three p.m., but I’m looking forward to crawling into bed with him.

“We’ll leave your car here.” He grabs my hand and walks to the door without waiting for me to reply.

Not that I was going to argue.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into the underground garage of his upscale condo in Central City—a self-contained community near downtown. As soon as the elevator doors close and he’s used his keycard to take us directly to his penthouse, Camden presses my back against the wall, his mouth on my neck, hands sliding underneath my dress. I moan as his fingertips trace along the lace of my panties, and I clutch at the seams of his suit jacket.

“I can’t wait to taste you on my lips,” he growls in my ear, sending shivers up my spine.

The elevator bell chimes at the same time the doors open to a foyer leading right into his living room, a wall of glass showcasing Spring City and the mountains to the west.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Camden says as he cups my ass and carries me into his home. We bypass the tour as he walks straight to his bedroom, setting me on my feet.

He slips off his jacket and tosses it aside before loosening his tie and kneeling in front of me. I suck in my breath as he removes my heels one at a time, and then slides his hands up my legs, his fingertips dancing over the clips connected to my stockings.

“I’ve always wondered about what you wore underneath your dresses.”

“I guess you’re about to find out.”

He gathers up the hem of my dress and pulls it up and over my head, his brow furrowing. “What’s that?”

I giggle. “It’s a waist trainer.”

Poking at the boning, he flashes me a look of concern. “It looks uncomfortable.”

“For the uninitiated, it can be, but I’ve been wearing these since I was a teenager.” I bite my lip, unsure how he will react to my little secret. “I should tell you—occasionally I work as a pin-up model.”

Camden inspects my waist trainer like it’s a puzzle, finding the hidden zipper on the front and freeing me from its confines. He tosses it across the room as if it is a torture device, his fingers sliding over the temporary red marks the corset leaves behind. “I know, Cherry Crush.”

---