Down London Road (On Dublin Street 02)

And then I felt the wet, erotic touch of tongue and I shuddered, falling against him. My nipples pebbled against my thin shirt, begging him to go further.

 

A sharp, piercing ringtone shattered the air between us and I jerked back, coming to my senses. Cam cursed, his jaw clenched so tight it was close to shattering. He reached for his phone on the counter beside us and then blanched as he read the caller ID. He shot me an unfathomable look. ‘Becca,’ he stated grimly.

 

I gulped, not believing that I’d let him touch me, that we’d been seconds from hurting two people who didn’t deserve to be hurt. More than that, I was shocked at how much I hadn’t even cared – my need for Cam was that selfish.

 

This was not good.

 

If it was anybody else, I would have suggested it was time to put some distance between us. But this was Cam. I needed Cam.

 

‘I better go. Malcolm is picking me up in a few hours.’ I straightened my shirt and tightened the band holding my ponytail in place. I couldn’t meet his gaze.

 

‘So we’re back to pretending there’s nothing between us?’

 

My spine stiffened at his curtness and I looked up, only to flinch at the anger I saw in his eyes.

 

Shit.

 

I couldn’t lose Cam’s friendship. It was the best thing that had happened to me since Cole. ‘Cam, please don’t. I’m with Malcolm and you’re with Becca.’

 

His mouth opened to respond, but I fled his presence before I was forced to hear what he had to say.

 

All day I felt I might be sick at any moment. I could barely do anything, really only taking time to reply to Cole when he texted me that he was staying at Jamie’s house that night. I dressed uncharacteristically casually for the party, pulling on a skintight black miniskirt and a print tee from Topshop. I paired them with knee-high boots with a fleecy lining so my legs wouldn’t freeze and a dark faux fur jacket I’d got at a sale and usually wore with something dressier.

 

Tonight I wasn’t in the mood to sparkle. I wanted comfort, youth – I wanted to be me in some tiny way. I shook the entire time I was dressing, wondering what Cam was doing, wondering if he was ever going to speak to me again. I could still feel his hot mouth against my throat, burned there along with the tingling sensation of his tongue. Why did he want us to face our attraction when we were both with other people? Did he want to leave Becca? Did he want me to leave Malcolm?

 

And the biggest question of all was, could I?

 

Could I walk away from a man who cared about me, who could provide me with security and safety? Could I risk it for Cam? If I did, what would happen if it just turned out to be physical between us? No emotion, just spark.

 

My head pounded from overload.

 

Malcolm waited outside my building, beside our cab, and I almost came to a standstill at the look on his face as he eyed my outfit. When he was done with the once-over, he gave me a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

 

‘What is it?’ I asked, frowning, sensing that something was off and not liking it. My stomach was already in upheaval over facing Cam again; I didn’t need to worry about Malcolm too.

 

Malcolm ushered me into the cab and as we pulled away, he perused my legs before looking back up at my face. ‘You look very young tonight.’

 

I glanced down at my outfit and pursed my lips. I looked my age tonight. I looked like me. ‘You don’t like it,’ I muttered.

 

He gave a huff of laughter. ‘Sweetheart, you look sexy as hell, but you look like a young wild child dating a grumpy older man.’

 

Something in his voice drew my gaze and I caught the flicker of unease in his eyes. He seemed worried. Cam’s face hovering so close to mine flashed across my eyes and the guilt was crushing. ‘You’re not a grumpy older man. You’re my sexy older man.’

 

His shoulders relaxed. ‘As long as you think so.’

 

‘I won’t wear this again.’

 

‘Good,’ he murmured, leaning down to kiss my cheek. ‘I prefer you in the dresses we bought. They make you look older, sophisticated.’

 

I would never have let a comment like that bother me before, but tonight it rubbed me a little raw. I faked a smile and let him squeeze my hand, wishing like hell I was back in my flat alone with a good book.

 

When we pulled up to Becca’s building my stomach almost revolted and I sucked in a gasp to hold back the queasiness. Malcolm turned sharply to me, his brows drawn together. ‘Are you okay?’

 

‘You know, I’ve been feeling off,’ I lied. ‘I think I’m fighting a bug or something.’

 

‘Do you want to leave?’

 

YES, YES, YES!

 

‘No.’ I nodded at the bottle of wine in his hand. ‘Let’s at least go up and have a drink.’