Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(75)

Cameron threw him a look. “Nice. Rawlings probably knows exactly what we’re going to do.”

“Cameron, with the way you look tonight, every man at this wedding knows exactly what I plan to do with you.”

“Wow, that may be the sexiest thing any man has ever—shit—I’m ruining my heels in this grass. I keep sinking in.”

Without breaking stride, Jack lifted her into his arms and carried her.

“I could’ve just taken the shoes off,” Cameron said with a smile.

“I’m not wasting time while you undo those damn straps.”

He got her inside the Tower lobby, set her down, and led her into an elevator. He pushed the button for their floor. The minute the elevator doors shut, she reached for him. Jack caught her hands and spun her around, her back against his chest.

“Not yet, baby,” he said huskily in her ear. “I need to get you into that room safely.” He held her hands tightly, doubting he could take it if she so much as touched him. She pressed back and rubbed her just-out-of-sight ass teasingly against him.

Son of a bitch. Jack growled low in his throat. He thought about hitting the emergency stop button, pushing up her dress, and taking her right there in the elevator. And as much as he throbbed at the wanton image of her standing in her heels, bracing herself against the wall and moaning his name as he took her from behind, that was not the way things were going to happen for their first time together.

He bent his head and kissed the base of her throat, not trusting himself to get any closer to her mouth. He could feel her quick pulse underneath his lips. “Remember how I said I was in charge? That includes tonight, Cameron.”

With a sly smile, she closed her eyes, tilting her neck to give him better access. “We’ll see about that.”

They would see, Jack agreed. The minute they got into that room.

The elevator sounded, indicating they had arrived at their floor. The doors sprang open and he smacked Cameron lightly on the ass to get her moving.

Twenty-five

AS THEY HURRIED through the hallway, Cameron’s body tingled with anticipation. Jack had barely touched her, and she was already completely turned on.

He unlocked the door and let them into their room, tossing the key on the desk in the corner. As he did his usual check, Cameron noticed that housekeeping had turned down the beds and had left the lights on dim. She set her purse on the nightstand.

She turned to face him when he finished, thinking that if he didn’t kiss her soon she might suffocate from all the sexual tension in the air.

She expected him to pounce and throw her onto the closest bed.

He didn’t.

Jack folded his arms across his chest. “So I’ve been thinking about your Walls of Jericho. Actually not so much about the wall, but about the other part. Where I show you how a man undresses.”

The temperature in the room rose so fast the glass on the television fogged.

Cameron exhaled. “All right. I’m watching.”

First, Jack took off the jacket of his suit, exposing his gun harness. He quickly removed that as well and set it on the desk. His hands moved to his tie. He loosened the knot and pulled it off, and Cameron had to fight the urge to storm over and yank the rest of his clothes off him.

There was a glint in his eyes as he made no move to undress further. “Sorry, but this is the twenty-first century version.”

“What happens in the twenty-first century version?”

“You lose the dress.”

Well, then.

“There’s not much underneath,” she said. She’d had little choice with the way the dress was cut.

“I’m counting on that.”

Cameron reached for the zipper that ran along one side and inched it down. Without dropping Jack’s gaze, she then untied the halter around her neck. The dress fell in a pool at her feet. She faced him wearing nothing but her black silk thong panties.

And of course, her high heels.

Her ni**les tightened in the cool air of the hotel room. Or maybe it was just Jack’s look.

Lust clouded his eyes as he took in every inch of her, and she had never felt more sexy—and bold—than she did right then.

“Your turn,” she said.

He undid the buttons on his shirt and peeled it off, revealing a tight white T-shirt that showed off his firm chest muscles.

Cameron was aching to get her hands on him. As if sensing this, he crossed the room. Her pulse skyrocketed as he approached, yet he still didn’t touch her.

“Now you,” he said.

She reached up and removed the antique-silver chandelier earrings Amy had picked for her, dropping them to the floor beside the dress.

“That’s cheating,” Jack said.

“You have four times the clothing on that I do.”

With one swift tug, he yanked his T-shirt over his head. “Better?”

Hell . . . yes.

Cameron took her time, savoring the sight. The hard muscles . . . the tight, six-pack abs . . . the light scattering of dark hair on his chest. . . . She wanted to taste every inch of him.

Then, briefly coming out of her daze, she noticed something else. Of course.

She had forgotten about the scars.

Three years ago she had read the files that contained a very detailed report of the hell that Martino’s men had put Jack through during the two days they’d held him captive. But she hadn’t thought about the physical scars that kind of hell would’ve left behind.