“Probably.” She tapped a few commands on the pad, and he watched it darken and shut down, then she tucked it into the carrier bag she wore on her shoulder.
“Come up to the office.” He held his hand out to her in invitation. “You can see the equipment we have there, and help me decide which room to try to convince Ian we need for a new office.”
“You need a new office?” Jaci took his hand and let him draw her along the stone path.
“Bigger office, anyway.” He smiled down at her. The hell if he cared if he had another office. He needed some time with her. He needed to smell the scent of her, feel her warmth, and he needed to do it without distractions. The office was his only chance, unless he wanted to slip into her hotel room again.
He wanted her until his back teeth ached with it. But he was finding he wanted more than just the sex with her. He wanted to laugh with her. He wanted to talk with her. He wanted her in his life and in his home, because he was damned if he was satisfied with the arrangement as it was.
She was continually running from him, and he’d had enough of it.
“So Ian doesn’t want you to have a bigger office?” There was a hint of knowing heat in her voice, remnants of her earlier wariness.
“I doubt he really gives a damn.” He felt like smiling. “I just want an excuse to spend some time with you.”
He glanced at her, and saw the almost-shy surprise in her expression as she looked up at him. That look had his c**k hardening to the point of pain.
“You didn’t need an excuse.” She cleared her throat as they entered the house, and headed through the back hall toward the offices. “All you had to do was let me know.”
“You keep running, Jaci,” he said softly.
“You told me to run.” Her voice was reflective now. “What’s the point in running, Cam? I never could stay away from you.”
He pulled her into his office, slammed the door behind them, locked it, and pushed her against the wall. His hands framed her face, as though her admission had broken some thread of control holding him back and his lips slammed down on hers.
He drew back at the last second, softened the possession in the kiss, and groaned at the heated welcome of her lips. Wanton. That was what she was. Her tongue met his, and her hands were pulling at his shirt, dragging it out of his jeans to allow her nails to rasp against the mat of hair that grew over his chest.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned against her lips. “I’m dying for you, Jaci.”
His hands were pulling at her skirt. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel the sweet warmth between her thighs, slick and wet, beckoning him.
“You wanted to talk.” She was panting. She was sweet and hot, and he could feel the need in her body, just as clearly as he heard it in her voice.
“I am talking.” He was nipping at her lips, loving the feel of them.
“You are?”
“I’m telling you how hot you are.” His lips slid to her neck and he didn’t even pause to wonder why the hell he was talking. “Telling you how badly I want to spank you.”
“There you go, threats again.” She moaned, a rich, soft sound that had his dick jerking in anticipation.
“A promise.” The thought of spanking her. God, his hand itched to feel the softly rounded globes of her ass beneath his hand as he laid the heavy caresses against her flesh. Watching them blush, feeling her burn.
And she would burn. The pleasure-pain of him and Chase both taking her the other night had driven her crazy for more. Her eyes had been wild for it, her voice aching with the hunger for it. And when he had plunged into the ultra-tight, heated grip of her pu**y, he had nearly come with her.
He nipped at her lips again, then stroked them with his tongue, as she lifted herself against him, trying to capture his lips for the kiss he knew they both needed. As he teased the lush curves of her lips he slid his hands over her ass, pushing her skirt higher to reach the delicate globes.
He moaned at the feel of bare skin. She wore a thong, and he knew that that scrap of material did nothing to hide the sight of her silken flesh.
Lifting his head, he breathed in roughly, squeezed her ass, and fought to hold on. He couldn’t take her here, couldn’t take her alone. Not yet. Not until he got a handle on these damned emotions threatening to break free.
Where the f**k was Chase when a person needed him?
“Cam . . .” Jaci’s voice was hungry now, her eyes brightening, growing hot with need. “What are you waiting for?”
She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, managing not to rip them from their moorings, but slipping them from their holes quickly, carefully. Her lips were against his neck, hot, demanding.
There had to be a way—a way to take her alone, to slide into the silken grip of her pu**y and find the pleasure that awaited him there.