She nodded, turned back, and unlocked the deadbolt. She grabbed the doorknob . . . then stopped.
Jack waited for her to open the door. When she didn’t, he reached around her, placing his hand over hers. “Cameron, we have to get out of here,” he said in a guttural voice.
“I know.”
Still, neither of them moved. Jack took his hand off hers and moved it to the deadbolt.
He knew he shouldn’t.
But he locked the door anyway.
He heard Cameron inhale unsteadily. Before he could give it a second thought, he brushed her long hair off her shoulder and bent his head to kiss her collarbone.
He got his answer. Silk didn’t hold a fucking candle to her skin.
WITH A SOFT moan, Cameron sank against Jack’s chest. She briefly wondered what she was doing, and why. Then she felt Jack’s lips burn a path along her neck and decided to table those issues for a moment.
His hands moved to her hips and she didn’t know if he spun her around or if she turned herself, maybe both, but suddenly she found herself facing him. She caught the hot glint in his eyes and reached for him just as his mouth came down on hers.
She expected Jack’s kiss to be hard, angry even, but instead it was just . . . wicked. He took his time, tasting her with his mouth, his lips, and his tongue. When his hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her closer, Cameron dropped her purse to the floor and threaded her fingers through his thick hair.
They slammed against the door.
Jack’s hand moved to her chin as his mouth explored hers roughly. Sensing his need for control but not yet willing to give it to him, Cameron cupped his face with her hands and slowed the kiss. Setting the pace, she teased him, biting gently at his bottom lip and sliding her tongue lightly along his. She did it again, playing with him, taking charge.
He growled low in his throat, then grabbed her hands and pinned them against the door.
Too late she recalled that Jack Pallas was not a man to be trifled with.
He wound his tongue around hers in a kiss that was rich and drugging. He settled between her thighs, and Cameron felt his hard, thick erection pressing into her. He could hide nearly every emotion behind that wall of his, but his body betrayed him right then, telling her the only thing she needed to know.
He wanted her.
Heady with that knowledge, Cameron closed her eyes as Jack blazed a trail with his mouth along her throat. The scruff of his jaw scratched against her neck, an erotic sensation that set every nerve of her body on fire.
“Jack,” she whispered.
“Tell me,” he said in her ear.
This was a new side of Jack. Gone was the guarded, controlled exterior. For once, she was seeing . . . him.
Cameron strained against him, helpless with her hands pinned in his. “Let me touch you.” She needed to see—feel—more of him.
He pulled back and let his eyes roam over her, soaking in every inch. He let go of her hands and watched as she pushed his blazer off. She slid her hands past his shoulder harness, feeling the taut muscles of his chest. She found it intoxicating, having such power and strength literally beneath her fingertips.
“This works both ways, baby,” Jack said in a husky voice.
He took her mouth in a kiss so demanding it left her breathless. His hands worked impatiently as he unbuttoned her sweater and pushed it off her shoulders.
“I need to see you,” he muttered against her mouth.
He pulled down the front of her camisole and the cup of her bra, and Cameron gasped as the cool air hit her exposed breast. He stroked her nipple between his fingers, toying with it until she trembled. When he cupped her breast and plumped it up for him, Cameron arched into his hand eagerly. Then he lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth.
Liquid heat coiled between her legs so fast she nearly sank to the floor right there. Jack slowly drew his tongue over the tight peak, first being gentle while he licked, then taking the rosy tip into his mouth hungrily. Meanwhile, his hand slid underneath her shirt and his fingers began to caress her other breast.
Cameron felt exposed yet also incredibly sensual. And while a voice inside her head told her that she needed to stop, another voice, a devilish one, told her to give in for once, to let go.
Jack pulled her camisole lower, his mouth on the hunt for her other breast. Cameron moaned, knowing which voice had just gained the upper hand.
Then a loud knock on the other side of the door startled them. Both she and Jack jumped.
They heard Amy’s voice. “Cameron? Are you in there?”
Cameron and Jack froze as the door handle turned at her hip.
Amy called through the door again. “Cameron? Are you all right?” She spoke to someone out in the hallway. “You said they were supposed to meet us back at the VIP room, right?”
Wilkins’s voice. “That’s what Jack said.”
“Try him on his cell phone again.”
Jack’s cell phone began to vibrate from the blazer Cameron had thrown onto the floor. She peered up at him. Something passed between them . . . then slipped away.
They unwound and separated. Jack grabbed his blazer off the ground to answer his phone. As he told Wilkins that they were fine and would be out momentarily, Cameron grabbed her purse off the floor and moved away from the door, pulling up the front of her camisole and adjusting her bra. She walked over to the window, grateful for the darkness that covered the awkwardness of the situation.
She was belting her sweater when Jack spoke from across the room.
“The strap of your shirt is torn,” he said softly.
“I know.” She tucked the strap inside her shirt, hoping the other one would hold. If not, Amy and Wilkins were going to get quite an eyeful. Her lips felt bruised and swollen, not that there was much she could do about that. She moved to the door.
“You’re ready?” Jack asked.
“Sure, I’m fine.” Actually, that wasn’t true, but with people waiting outside there wasn’t time to analyze her emotions. She knew it was the perfect time for a quip or a joke, anything that would get her feeling like herself again and bring her and Jack back to familiar ground. But she couldn’t do it right then. “We should get out there.”
Jack seemed to hesitate at first. Then he switched over to all-business mode and opened the door. She passed by him to step out into the hallway and for a fleeting second their eyes met—the only recognition of what had happened between them.
Amy waited in the shadowy hallway with Wilkins. They both looked confused at first, then amused.
Cameron tried to play it casual as she walked over. “We were waiting to make sure everything was safe.”
Amy pulled her to the side. “I was worried when the two of you didn’t show up downstairs.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Amy looked her over. “That’s a new way of wearing that shirt.”
Cameron glanced down and saw her exposed shoulder. Now missing one gray silk camisole strap.
She was going to burn the stupid sweater as soon as she got home.
Sixteen
CAMERON HEARD THE knock on her door and looked up from her computer. Rob Merrocko, an assistant U.S. attorney with the office next to hers, opened the door and poked his head in.
“How’d the arraignment go today?”
“He pled not guilty, as expected,” Cameron said. “That’ll change. A jury would convict this guy in all of about two seconds.” The defendant, a youth soccer coach from one of the northern suburbs, had been charged with receiving child pornography on his computer. If his lawyer had an ounce of sense in him, he’d never let the case go to trial.