Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(71)
“Promise me, Cameron. No matter what happens.”
“I promise. But why?”
“Because I’m going to kiss you good night.” With that, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. She threaded her hand through his hair and kissed him back, meeting his tongue hungrily with hers. The next thing Jack knew, he was on the bed with her pinned beneath him. Underneath the blanket, she spread her legs and he sank between them greedily. He was hard as a rock and throbbing being this close to her, and when she arched her hips against him, he nearly lost it.
“You’re going to ruin me as an agent,” he murmured huskily. “Once I get inside you, I’m not going to be able to think about anything else except doing it again and again.” His hands went to the edge of the covers. Bullets hadn’t stopped him, and this was a blanket. “I’ll make it so f**king good for you. . . .” He kissed her neck, her throat, wanting to go lower, wanting to taste her everywhere.
Cameron exhaled unsteadily. “You are so not playing fair.” But she didn’t let go of the covers.
Jack buried his head in the pillow, struggling for that last shred of control. He lifted himself off the bed and grabbed his gun off the nightstand.
He handed it to her. “Take it.”
Her eyes went wide, a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Okay. If I have to shoot you to keep you away from me, I think we should just throw in the towel and say screw it to the wedding.”
“It’s not for me. I want you to keep your eye on the door for the next five minutes. I’m going to take a cold shower.”
Twenty-four
“WILL YOU JUST sleep with him already?”
Cameron looked around the salon. “Maybe you could say that just a little louder, Ame. I’m not sure everyone heard you over the hairdryers.”
Thankfully, Jack was waiting up front, sparing her at least some embarrassment from her friend’s comment. When they’d first arrived, he’d conducted a check of the entire spa and salon area, then had positioned himself by the door that was the only way in and out.
She and Amy sat next to each other, getting the finishing touches on their makeup. “There are a few things going on with us right now, you know,” Cameron said pointedly. “Like that slightly sticky issue with me being attacked in my home by an armed intruder.”
Amy immediately looked contrite. “You’re right—that was a silly thing to say. You have a lot more important things to worry about than my wedding.”
Cameron and Amy shared a look in the mirror.
“Wow. I even shocked myself with that one.” Amy grinned. “Well, luckily, you’ll be done having to put up with me in just a few hours. I bet you can’t wait.”
“Don’t be crazy—there’s no place I’d rather be this weekend than right here. Even if you have been a royal pain in the ass.”
Amy laughed and wiped her eyes. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry with all this mushy crap.”
The makeup artist applying Amy’s blush pointed sternly. “Don’t touch your eyes. This is some of my best work.”
The purple-haired, multi-tattooed and pierced cosmetologist doing Cameron’s makeup chimed in with her orders. “Look at the ground.”
Cameron obeyed, trying not to blink as the woman put a second coat of mascara on her lashes.
“That’s waterproof, right?” she heard Amy ask her technician.
“Of course,” he assured her.
“You can look up now,” Purple Hair said when she had finished.
Cameron peered back up at Amy in the mirror. “Besides, I generally have this rule about not sleeping with a guy until he’s taken me out on some kind of date.”
“When he saves your life, I think you can bypass that part.”
“He did have dinner delivered the other night, although I think the FBI picked up the tab. Do you think I can count that?”
Purple Hair stopped dusting blush over Cameron’s cheeks. “Hold up. Are you talking about the dark-haired guy who came in with you? The one who searched me before I could do your makeup?”
Cameron grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be—it was the highlight of my month.” Purple Hair threw her a get-real stare. “That’s the guy you’re holding out on? Sweetie, you need to grab that stallion and ride him like a cowgirl.”
“I . . . don’t really know you, but thanks for the advice.”
Purple Hair winked. “Comes with the makeup. What do you think?”
Cameron checked herself out in the mirror. They’d left her hair down, with waves and a lot more volume than she could ever replicate on her own. And the makeup, which had felt like a lot going on, looked perfect and made her lips look fuller, her cheekbones more defined, and added a sparkle to her eyes. “It looks nice.”
Amy snorted. “Nice? Give it a rest.” She came up in the chair behind her, looking mismatched yet still elegant with her hair pulled back in an elaborate twist under her veil, and her jeans and white button-down shirt. She put her arms around Cameron. “You’re lucky I love you so much, to let you look like that on my wedding day.”
“You look gorgeous, Ame.” No exaggerating there—minus the jeans and button-down shirt, Amy was the very picture of a blonde, fairy-tale beauty. “Aaron is going to be knocked off his feet when he sees you coming down the aisle.”