A Passionate Love Page 7

  “Cam…” This time his name came out as a raw, unfiltered moan.

  Clutching him close, Simone eased her legs wider so he could do as he pleased. His fingers glided in and out, stroking the wet inner muscles of her sex. She wanted to beg. She wanted to plead with him not to stop as she rubbed her cheek against his strong jaw. She turned her face into his neck, sucking on his Adam’s apple and kissing his neck and the line of his jaw.

  Goodness, he smelled so good. The spicy aroma of his cologne was at once familiar and intoxicating. It had lingered in her skin after she left his bed and tortured her on the ride back to her condo. Only through a long, steamy shower did she finally manage to rid herself of the scent of him.

  With his fingers between her legs and his soft lips sucking on her neck, her body tightened with a pending climax. She held him even closer, lifting her aching bosom toward his mouth.

  He teased her with soft kisses over the crests of her breasts and dragged his tongue over the line of her cleavage, leaving a moist trail across her skin. Simone’s head tipped back to the wall and she strained closer still, angling her lower body toward him, all the while maintaining an open-legged stance as he worked those long fingers over the swollen clit between her thighs.

  Someone could bust in on them at any minute, but that logical thought disappeared with all others when the tightening in her abdomen released, and ecstasy exploded and surged through her loins. Her knees buckled and she fell back against the wall to stay upright. Trembling, she cried out, and immediately his lips came crashing down on hers to muffle the sound.

  The kiss only lasted a few seconds, and when he released her mouth, Simone followed. It wasn’t enough that the stroke of his long fingers had brought her to orgasm. She clung to him, seeking more intimacy. Seeking affection.

  He pressed his face into her neck as Simone fought to bring her breathing under control.

  “Cam.” She kissed his ear and jaw.

  Slowly, he lifted his head and they made eye contact. “Consider that my gift to you. The best orgasm you’ll have all night.”

  She felt bereft when he eased his hand from between her thighs, leaning against the wall for support since her weak and wobbly legs were practically useless.

  Cameron cursed, a loud f-bomb that echoed in the room. Simone winced at the angry sound and watched as he went over to the sink and washed his hands, rubbing them clean of any evidence of what they’d done. Not once did he look at himself in the mirror, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of his own face.

  He braced his hands on the edge of the sink. “This is my fault,” he murmured. “I came after you, but I’ll leave you alone so you can go back to Mr. Duvalier.”

  Cameron walked out, his gait stiff but forceful. Not once did he look at her again.

  Simone pounded the wall behind her with angry fists. How humiliating that she’d allowed him to bring her to orgasm with just the stroke of his fingers, while their dates sat out in the dining room waiting for them.

  She didn’t know who made her angrier. Him, or herself.

  Cameron sat down and smiled across the table at Sherry. Thank goodness his suit jacket hid the erection he couldn’t squash.

  “Sorry about that. I had to…take care of something.”

  Her gaze flickered over him. “Did you?” An eyebrow raised in inquiry, her expression cool.

  “Yeah. Nothing important.” Cameron shifted in the chair and rubbed his hands down his thighs, body humming. He needed a strong drink. Fast.

  Sherry extended a white cloth napkin to him.

  Cameron frowned. Taking it, he asked, “What’s this for?”

  “There’s lipstick on your collar. And on your mouth.”

  She shot knives at him with her piercing gaze. Folding her arms over her chest, her attention turned to the nighttime landscape outside the window.

  The heat of shame burned across Cameron’s neck and chest. He hadn’t checked the mirror in the bathroom before he left. “Sherry, I—”

  Another angry glance flew across the table before she swung her head to stare out the window again. “Take me home.”

  He was horny as hell and couldn’t get laid. His night was ruined.

  Cameron swiped his mouth and faint red color transferred to the napkin. There was nothing he could say to make it up to Sherry. He was truly an ass.

  Simone came back into the dining room, her hips swinging with each graceful movement of her legs. Their gazes briefly met before she sat down.

  He watched as she reapplied her lipstick, smoothing the stick over her full mouth and then rubbing her lips together—the way women do—to evenly distribute the color.

  Scorching heat filled his chest. The heat of want. The heat of desire. The heat of deprivation.

  Simone rested her chin in her hand and smiled across the table at Albert. Completely entranced, all Cameron could think was that he should be the one sitting across from her.

  And that he wanted that smile for himself.

  Chapter 12

  Cameron pulled up to the front door of the nightclub. Having already called ahead, a wiry attendant named Rob, wearing a friendly smile and the standard black slacks, white shirt, and lavender bow tie, greeted him as he descended from the vehicle.

  “Good afternoon, Cameron,” the young man said.

  Cameron tossed him the key. “Be careful with my baby,” he warned.

  “Always.” Rob hopped into the vehicle with a little too much enthusiasm, and drove away toward the employee parking area.

  Strolling into the dim club, Cameron surveyed the interior. Later, the place would be bouncing and alive with energy, but at five o’clock in the afternoon was much more low-key. Bartenders stocked the spirits at the circular bar in the middle of the floor in preparation for the Wind Down Wednesday crowd, and a few of the waitresses chatted in a corner. The combination of black leotards overlaid with lace, heels, fishnet stockings, and lavender bowties was eye-catching.

  “Hello ladies,” he greeted them on his way to the elevator.

  “Hey, Cameron,” they sang, doing flutter waves and giving him seductive smiles—the same ones they bestowed on clients who gave them additional gratuity above and beyond what was built into the bills.

  Cameron took the elevator to the top floor and immediately went to work, running through revenue from the previous night, and returning a few phone calls. He took care of a dispute with a vendor and paid some bills electronically. He then did his usual walk through of the club before the late night crowd arrived—greeting patrons in the restaurant and checking in with the kitchen, and the managers, before heading back to his office on the third floor.

  He bumped into Harper in management’s private hallway, clutching her iPad, as usual. “Mason’s looking for you,” she said.

  “Did he say why?” Cameron asked.

  “He said he has something to show you on the monitors.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay? You look…I don’t know, weird.”

  “Nah, I’m fine.”

  “You were frowning.”

  “Was I?”

  She lifted a brow. “You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” she asked.

  He couldn’t get anything past his siblings. “Who, Simone? Hell, no,” he lied, rolling his shoulders.

  Harper crossed her arms. “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t you have a party to tend to?” Cameron asked, walking toward the stairwell.

  “Nice way to change the subject.” She headed in the opposite direction.

  Cameron turned back to his sister. “Hey, Harp, let me know when you get a call from a Sandy Belkin. Put her in the White Room and make sure she gets the star treatment.”

  She placed a hand on her hips. “Don’t I always take care of your groupies?”

  “Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious. She’s not a groupie. I met her at the market today and gave her a VIP pass for her and guests. Told her to call you when she’s ready to use it. She works at the radio station, s
o we could get some free publicity out of her visit.”

  Harper walked away and called over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

  A few minutes later, Cameron pressed his thumb to the pad outside the security room. Inside, Mason and a team of four kept an eye on the interior and exterior of the club.

  “You wanted to see me,” Cameron said.

  Mason waved him over. “There’s something I need you to look at.”

  One of the security personnel left his chair so Cameron could sit and get a good look at the screen.

  Mason zoomed the camera to a man standing against the wall, holding a beer. He wore a black button down and jeans and was staring across at the bar.

  “That guy.” Mason pointed. “He comes in here all the time and just stands against the wall, like he’s doing now.” He stuck one of the gourmet lollipops he often carried into his mouth.

  “Who is he?”

  “Don’t know, but something about him rubs me the wrong way. He’s not causing any problems. He just makes me uneasy.”

  “Should we have one of the bouncers approach him?”

  Mason twirled the red candy in his mouth for a few seconds before answering. “I don’t think he’s an immediate threat,” he said slowly. “Let me keep an eye on him a little bit longer.”

  “Okay.” Cameron stood. He trusted his brother’s instincts. “Keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  Cameron went back to his office and buckled down to write a list of tasks that needed to be accomplished over the next few days. After almost an hour, he tossed the pen across the desk, removed his reading glasses, and reclined in the chair. With a lull in his workload, his mind returned again and again to Simone.

  Did she sleep with that guy, Albert?

  He stood abruptly from the chair and poured himself a glass of lukewarm water.

  Fuck her.

  He paced to the window and slowly drank the water. Night had fallen, and he stared out at the illuminated street below and cars crawling along between the buildings.

  Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? They didn’t have any hold on each other, and he could have his pick of almost any single woman who walked into the club tonight. Yet she was the one who stayed on his brain.

  He set the empty glass on the sill and paced the floor of his office like a caged tiger.

  Granted, the interlude in the bathroom should not have happened while they were both on dates with other people, but it didn’t mean anything. She didn’t mean anything to him.

  He stopped pacing, eyes landing on the building across the street, where squares of light poured from the windows.

  Sex with her had been mind-blowing, but so what? He’d had sex with plenty of women.

  So why did she occupy his thoughts almost nonstop? All his senses reminded him of everything related to her—her scent on his fingers, the taste of her on his tongue. Last night, aroused to the point of discomfort, he’d used his hand to relieve himself, releasing a groan of simultaneous pleasure and longing because, despite the temporary relief, true satisfaction could only come from having her.

  There was really only one solution to this problem.

  Cameron snatched up the phone and dialed her number. The digits were burned into his brain even though he’d barely used them.

  A female voice answered on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  Probably her assistant, Adele.

  “May I speak to Simone, please,” he said.

  “May I ask who’s calling?” she said in a cautious voice.

  “Cameron Bennett. I’m one of the owners of Club Masquerade, where you organized the divorce party. I need to speak to Simone. Is she available?”

  “One moment.”

  The phone went silent when she muted the line, and Cameron waited anxiously for Simone, resuming his trek back and forth in the same line, probably wearing a hole in the carpet but unable to stop moving.

  “Hello?”

  The sound of her voice arrested his footsteps, and the amount of relief that flooded him not only shocked but angered him. That this woman could have so much control over his emotional state infuriated him.

  “Do you have plans tonight?” He asked without ceremony.

  A few seconds passed before she responded. “Why?”

  “I want you to come to the loft.”

  “And why would I do that? What is this about?” she asked, her voice unnervingly cool and extra proper.

  Her tone should have doused the flames of his desire. Instead, the sound of her voice simply inflamed him. The cool façade was merely a front, hiding the sensual creature she was underneath.

  Heat clawed at his loins.

  “You know what this is about. We have unfinished business.”

  The gentle noise of her breathing filled the line, and he could barely discern the quiet conversation of two other female voices talking to each other in the background.

  He waited with a tight and heavy knot of lead in his belly.

  “All right,” she finally said.

  The lead weight lessened. “Can you be there by midnight?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “This time, bring a bag. No running out at the crack of dawn.”

  “It wasn’t the crack of dawn.”

  “I’ll see you at twelve.”

  Cameron hung up and ran a hand down his face. He was probably out of his mind, but he needed Simone out of his system and out of his head. Maybe he could finally resolve the restlessness that constantly plagued him.

  At least, that’s what he hoped.

  “What did he want?” Ella sat across from Simone in the limo, eyebrows drawn low over her eyes.

  Simone handed the phone to her assistant seated beside her. “He wants me to come see him.”

  “And you’re going to?” Ella asked, incredulous. Understandably so, since Simone had told her about the night at the restaurant and how he’d left her in the bathroom to go back to his date. She herself had ended the night with a chaste kiss to Albert’s cheek, but she wondered if Cameron had slept with Sherry.

  She didn’t want to think about it and shifted on the seat as the car rolled down the highway on their way to dinner. “I have to see what he wants.”

  “You know what he wants.”

  Simone crossed her legs and stared out the window.

  A juvenile could figure out what he wanted. The pressing problem was that she wanted it, too. His touch remained imprinted on her like a brand. She relived the night they spent together in vivid detail, craving more. Sex toys were inadequate. She only wanted Cameron.

  “Simone, don’t do this. It’s a mistake.”

  “Is it?” She was tired of everyone telling her what to do and how to behave. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.”

  “Cameron makes you lose control.”

  She fiddled with the gold bracelets on her wrists. “I can handle him,” she said.

  “Neither one of us believes that,” Ella said.

  Simone shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “He’s going to hurt you. Disappoint you.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  Both sisters stared at each other before Ella let out a frustrated sigh of acceptance. “So you’re canceling?”

  “I have to go home and get ready.”

  “What am I supposed to tell our friends?”

  They were meeting friends for drinks, but she couldn’t possibly do that now. She needed to get home and take a shower, do her hair, refresh her makeup, and pack a bag.

  “Tell them something came up.”

  “So you want me to lie?”

  “It’s not a lie, but if you want, you can give them the details. I don’t care.”

  Ella folded her arms across her torso. “You know Mother would never approve of what you’re doing, and there was a time you would never go against her wishes.”

  Simone glanced at her assi
stant, who tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear and shifted uncomfortably as their voices rose. “You’re not exactly the poster child for doing what Mother asks, either. You went against her wishes after you met your husband.”

  Their mother had mapped out their lives, making sure they attended the right parties and met the most eligible bachelors. At times, Simone had felt like a show dog, put on display for men to figuratively poke and prod as they determined whether or not she was wife material.

  As far as Sylvie was concerned, Ella and Simone were too emotional—thinking with their hearts instead of their brains. A solid relationship decision meant a man of their ilk. Someone wealthy and who understood their way of life.

  Simone tugged at her bracelets, watching as the jewelry sparkled beneath the passing lights. “Maybe I want to do what I want to do and not feel guilty about my decisions. Cameron is not a destination. He’s a detour.” That’s what she told herself, although her fierce need for him made it feel less so. “Not everyone I get involved with has to be husband material. Mother isn’t always right.”

  “Not always, but often,” Ella said in quiet resignation.

  She’d married, but not someone their mother considered “suitable” for her station in life. When the marriage didn’t last, Sylvie wasted no time saying I told you so.

  Studying Ella now, Simone wondered if her sister had ever been happy in her marriage. Had she ever felt genuine love and affection for the man she pledged to love until death, or had it all been a mirage?

  Why did so many relationships not last? Even when the spouses loved each other passionately, the way she thought Ella and her husband used to.

  “I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I haven’t had sex in months.” Ella smiled. “Have an extra orgasm for me while you’re at it.”

  If Simone was lucky, she’d have enough to last for a very long time.

  Chapter 13

  By the time Simone arrived, Cameron had been at home at least an hour. He left the club early, showered and changed into a pullover and jeans, and proceeded to anxiously await her arrival.

  When she did arrive, she came in with a Gucci rolling suitcase, obviously prepared to spend the night. She wore black heels and a purple, floral, feminine dress with a full skirt that swirled around her ankles.