Page 11 of Charlie

"Of course it is! This is what you've been working for!" He's quiet. Too quiet. "We can still call each other—" I continue, but my voice doesn't sound convincing, so I stop.

"I'm not sure if we can." He groans in frustration. "The assignment is in a remote area. I have no idea how often I would have cell service." He squares his shoulders and meets my gaze, "I'm thinking about not taking it, Charlie."

"Cameron, no. You have to take it." It hurts like hell, but I mean it. There's no way I'll let him give up this opportunity for whatever this is between us.

His eyes shutter, "You don't understand the spell you have me under, do you?" He shakes his head, his eyes on the horizon.

"You can't turn down this job because of me! This is your dream. I'll still be here." I pause. "Well, maybe not here, but you know what I mean."

"Will you, though?" He takes my hand in his, tracing the sensitive skin inside my fingers. He sighs. "I'm not going to ask you to wait for me. There's no telling how long the project will last. You'll be long gone, back to your life in America."

He's right, of course, but hell if I'm going to tell him that.

He tells his family at dinner that night. He leaves in eight days. When I see how ecstatic his mom and dad are for him, I know I made the right decision. I walk with him to his car after dinner, doing my best to be happy for him. I stop next to his car, and he draws my body to him, cupping my face between his hands. He presses his forehead to mine, his eyes shining.

"Fuck." He inhales sharply. He starts to say something but then stops, blowing out a breath. "I'll see you Sunday for dinner." He kisses me quickly and drives off without looking back.

I want to scream after him to stay and see what this could become, that this was something special. But I don't. I wipe under my eyes, watching as his car disappears. I have a week to get my shit together.

9

Cameron brings me to a swanky farm-to-table restaurant the following Sunday. Millie and Richard are out of town at a baby shower, so we get this one dinner alone. One night alone. The meal is the best I've had in Scotland so far. I eat slowly, savoring the food and the company. His eyes are dark as the shadows from the candlelight caress his face.

He reaches across the table and pushes my hair back from my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "I don't know how to leave you."

I rest my cheek against his palm and smile even though my heart feels like it's breaking. "Yes, you do. First, you go home and pack. Then you get on that plane tomorrow morning. Then you live your dream."

He studies my face, his gaze catching on my lips. "Spend the night with me?" he asks, not waiting for my answer before leaning across the table and crushing his mouth to mine.

Desire rushes through my veins. I frame his face with my hands and pull him up with me as I stand. I sigh against his lips as our bodies fit together. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth and bites, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. He rests his forehead against mine, "Yes or no, Charlie?"

"Yes. Definitely yes," I whisper, struggling to catch my breath.

He throws several bills on the table and wraps his arm around me, stroking the sensitive skin below my breast. He side-steps around me, his erection pressing into my side. I push back, barely able to stop myself from rubbing against him like a cat.

"Fuck, Charlie," he whispers, his hand sliding around my throat, the touch gentle. Possessive.

I turn to face him, running my hand from his shoulder to his fingertips. I tug lightly. "Come on." I pull him out of the restaurant, and we make it several steps before he crushes me against a wall in the alleyway. His lips move over mine hungrily, no sign of the tentativeness from last week. His thumb caresses the side of my breast, and I growl in frustration, pulling his hand up to cover my nipple. I push my fingers through his hair and tug. He groans, his hands sliding down to my hips and pressing me close.

His cock pushes against the seam of my jeans, the ridge against my clit. I cling to him, pushing my hips down. As his lips move to my ear, I drop my head back against the wall. I clutch the waistband of his pants and pull him closer, riding him.

He presses his forehead to the wall. "Fuck ... me," he groans, thrusting back once before holding my hips in a vice grip. He pierces my soul with his hooded gaze before backing up a couple of steps. He looks around to make sure no one is watching before reaching down and adjusting his cock. I can see the tip peeking out of his waistband before he pulls his shirt back down. I close the space between us in one stride, pushing him against the opposite wall. I cup him and stroke his length several times, pushing his shirt up with my other hand so I can see it. I pull his waistband out slightly and circle my tongue over him, following the ridge.

Cameron sucks a breath through his teeth and pulls me up to meet his mouth, cradling my face with his hands. He angles his lips over mine, fucking my mouth with his tongue. His hand drops to my ass, pulling me tight against his cock. I groan into his mouth, desperate. He turns me to the wall, pinning me with his chest as he grinds against me.

"I can't stop fucking thinking about doing this," he says, his breath hot on my ear as he slips his hand down the front of my pants. He cups me over my underwear. I push against him, wanting – needing – more. He palms my throat with his other hand, pulling me against him and angling my head back so he can look me in the eyes. I whimper as his finger inches closer to my center. He gazes at me, watching my reaction as he pulls the fabric aside. My eyes roll back as his fingertip slowly slides over my clit to where I'm wet and ready.

"God, Charlie," he groans, pushing into me. I moan and grind against his palm.

"Fuck me, Cameron – please," I whisper, my lips a hairsbreadth from his.

"Soon." He pulls his hand away, his gaze holding mine as he licks his fingers clean. Stepping out of the alley, he stops every few feet to burn me alive with his kisses. He drops his keys twice before successfully unlocking the door to the bookstore. We slam against the inside of the door, his lips crushing mine. I squirm against him, seeking out friction. Strong hands grip the back of my thighs as he lifts me, hoisting me onto the high library-style desk. I start to protest about how far away his cock is, but he ignores me.

"Unbutton," he growls, pulling my shoes off. I obey. He jerks my jeans from my legs as I pull my shirt over my head. He grabs scissors from the desk, and cuts both sides of my panties, pulling them away from my body with a groan.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark. Hungry.

God, he's beautiful.

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