Didn’t mean she didn’t still want more of him.
The man himself was off limits, yes. But how many times had she fantasized about him over the years? Little forbidden treasures she kept tucked away and brought out only on the longest, loneliest nights. She could pop the lid off the pressure cooker of sexual tension inside her, and nobody had to know who was front and center in her imagination when she did.
Heart pounding, she slid her hand over her belly and bit down on her lower lip as her fingers dipped under the waistband of her panties.
…
Cam’s head snapped up at the soft groan and he muted the TV, his eyes scanning the loft overhead. Was Eva having a bad dream? Should he go up and wake her? He hated to when she so badly needed the sleep, but if she was having nightmares, she’d wake up more exhausted than before she went to bed.
She moaned softly again and heat licked down his spine. That sound was all sexy, aroused woman—definitely not from a nightmare—and his cock filled in anticipation.
Was she getting herself off?
Closing his eyes, he pictured her on the bed upstairs, knees lifted and parted under the sheet as her fingers dipped in and out of her tight *.
He shuddered and wrapped one hand around his shaft, squeezing hard to keep back the release tightening his balls. He told himself to chill out, let her do what she needed to do to help her relax. Intruding on this private moment of hers would only make things more awkward between them come morning.
“Cam…”
His name, barely a breath of air on her lips, echoed in the silence of the house. He wasn’t entirely sure she even knew it had escaped, but fuck, he liked it. Would never get tired of hearing her call it while lost in the grip of sexual satisfaction. Wanted to hear it again and again, preferably as he drilled so deep she forgot everything but his name.
Fuck it.
He lay back against the couch cushion. Splayed his legs and tucked the front of his pants under his balls, giving himself better access as he strained to hear every sweet sound Eva made. He pumped his hand up and down his cock, slow at first, then harder, faster, until he shook with the need to come.
And the next time he heard her soft moan of pleasure, he was right there with her.
…
Busted.
Eva froze at the erotic growl from downstairs and then flushed even hotter. She should be embarrassed at getting caught masturbating. She wasn’t. Instead, the heat came from straight-up, no holds lust.
Cam had his hand on himself, too.
She wished she could see him working himself, that big hand wrapped tight around his thick cock, his back arching into each downward movement, his hard stomach muscles contracting, the cords in his neck taut as he strained toward release.
Oh, God.
The mental image pushed her closer to her own orgasm and she gasped, every sensation amplified tenfold. Her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples scraping almost painfully against the nylon mesh of Cam’s jersey. Her thighs trembled hard enough to make the pull-out bed shake. So, so close. She just needed…something…more…
“Eva.” Cam’s voice was a rasp against her nerve endings in the silence. “Come for me. I want to hear you.”
The rubber band tension snapped and she orgasmed hard, gasping and shuddering through it. Cam’s rough shout of release echoed off the ceiling and joined the involuntary sounds of pleasure spilling from her own lips.
And then, silence again.
Spent, Eva let her legs fall straight even as tiny aftershocks wracked her body. She’d never before felt anything so intense by herself. Then again, she wasn’t alone this time. Not really. She turned her head on the pillow to look through the loft’s railing at the empty space over the living room. The TV still flickered against the wall in muted shades of blue. She couldn’t see Cam from where she lay, but imagined him sprawled on the couch, his skin slick with sweat, chest heaving to draw in air. She bet he made a beautiful sight, all sexy, sated male. Too bad she didn’t have the energy to stand up and actually get a look at him.
As her eyes drifted shut, she swore she heard him murmur, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Warmth suffused her chest and, smiling, she tumbled into sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
That was a helluva lot more than ten inches of snow.
Cursing under her breath, Eva closed the door on the knee-high drift making Cam’s front porch impassible without a shovel, and leaned her forehead against the cool wood. She knew her car sat in his driveway, but she’d be hard pressed to find it at the moment. Even if she could get to it and somehow dig it out with her hands—her bare hands because she hadn’t thought to bring gloves with her last night—there was still nowhere to drive. Covered in an even white blanket, the street looked no different from the sidewalk or his neighbors’ yards.
So much for making a stealthy escape before Cam woke up.