Eat, Play, Lust (Entangled Flirts) (5 page)

The meal can wait for later
, he thought as Cami slid her hand to the front of his slacks and stroked him through the fabric.

She moaned, and Paul forgot his own name. He gave up trying to remember and wondered if any food he’d brought would spoil if he didn’t get it into the fridge within an hour.

“Screw it,” he said, turning to grab everything in one giant armload. He shoved it all in the fridge and turned back to Cami. His breath caught at the blaze of desire in her eyes. He fixed his hands around her hips and hoisted her up.

“We’re going to delay dinner just a bit,” he said as he carried her toward the couch.

“Thank God for heavy appetizers.”

Chapter Four

Cami couldn’t believe she was letting a man carry her.

She also couldn’t believe she was letting a man feed her decadent, high-calorie food while allowing him glimpses of her low-class food lust.

But it was the carrying that startled her most.

He marched her into the living room and set her on the couch, then stepped back and looked at her for a moment. Cami held her breath.

“You’re so damn sexy,” he said.

He lunged for her, and Cami twisted her fingers in his hair and breathed in the scent of basil and river water and strong, solid
man
. She gasped as his mouth found the sensitive hollow behind her ear, and she pressed her body against his, craving every inch of him. Paul responded with a moan, and Cami dug her fingers into the back of his head, thankful she hadn’t put the tots in the oven yet.

She wanted more than eighteen minutes.

Using every ounce of strength in her body, she pushed him back against the sofa and straddled his lap. Paul shifted so he was sitting up straight, his hands never leaving her body. Cami moved her mouth to his, devouring him, tasting him, craving more. She ground against him, savoring the heat and hardness and the way he moved against her.

“
Oh
,” Cami gasped, thankful her thin cotton shorts let her feel every inch of him.

Still, she wanted
more
. His hands were on her back, probably fumbling for the bra clasp that wasn’t there. Cami broke the kiss and leaned back, smiling.

“Let me help with that.” In one swift motion, she pulled the tank top over her head and tossed it onto the floor. Paul’s eyes went wide, and for the briefest moment, Cami felt self-conscious. She started to cross her arms, but Paul grabbed her elbow.

“Don’t. I want to see you. All of you.”

Paul pressed his mouth to her left breast, and Cami made a sound somewhere between a giggle and a sigh.

“You
see
with your mouth?”

“I’m a chef. Of course I do.”

He began to swirl his tongue around her nipple, making slow, deliberate circles that left Cami clawing at the couch cushions. She gasped as he moved from one side to the other, lingering for a moment in the hollow between her breasts.

He drew back for an instant and smiled up at her. “You’re officially the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m flattered, considering your profession.”

Paul laughed and buried his face in her breasts again. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, and Cami gave a blissful sigh and leaned back. She slid her fingers up his arms and along his neck, coming to rest on his face. She stroked his beard, relishing the gentle prickles against her fingertips. It was somehow soft and rough all at the same time.

Just like Paul
, she thought as his teeth grazed her nipple. Shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her torso, and Cami clenched her thighs tighter around him. Paul drew back, probably coming up for breath.

He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Kiss me,” she urged. “I want your beard against my face.”

“Really?”

She stroked a finger against his cheek. “I like the way it feels.”

“I like the way
you
feel.”

She giggled as his lips found hers, and then she stopped giggling. He was an amazing kisser, and Cami grew dizzy as his lips brushed hers and his tongue made sensuous circles around hers. She ground against him again, wondering if he noticed how damp her thin cotton shorts had become where their bodies connected. She smiled, thinking how evident it was she wasn’t the only one aroused.

Cami slid her hands down and grasped the hem of his T-shirt. She tugged upward, wanting to feel his flesh against hers, but hesitant to break the kiss. Sensing the dilemma, Paul pulled back for an instant.

“Two seconds,” he said, and yanked the shirt off so fast Cami felt the static in her hair. Then his hands were on her again, his mouth working magic on her throat. Cami traced the lines of his chest with her fingers, threading through the faint dusting of hair before she drew her hands back up and over his biceps.

“You have fabulous arms,” she murmured.

“You have fabulous collarbones. And fabulous skin. And fabulous breasts. And fabulous—”

“Condoms!”

Paul drew back slightly. “I can’t actually judge those yet.”

“No, condoms. I don’t have any. Do you?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Does it make me presumptuous if I say I grabbed some at the grocery store before coming over?”

“It makes you smart. And prepared. And probably lucky.”

“Excellent.”

Cami kissed him hard, then slid off his lap feeling bold and empowered. She swung her bare feet to the floor and shimmied her shorts off. They fell in a puddle of gray cotton at her feet, and Cami kicked them to the side and looked at Paul through her lashes.

He smiled. “So sexy.”

“Thank you. Now what?” she asked in a breathy voice she barely recognized.

“Now I have to think about whether I shoved the condoms in the fridge with the scallops.” Paul frowned. “This could be uncomfortable.”

“I promise not to judge you by whatever might happen when refrigerated latex touches your—”

“Better grab them now,” he said, jumping off the couch. “I’m pretty sure we can find a way to warm them up.”

He paused long enough to trail his hands over her body, his palms cupping her backside and lingering at the apex of her thighs. He slid them back up and around, stopping to caress her breasts before he pulled away looking a little dazed.

“Condoms. Fridge. Right.”

Cami grinned and sat back on the sofa, giving herself a mental pat on the back for purchasing the stain resistant finish on the leather.

So romantic
, her subconscious chided.

He says I’m passionate, so screw you
, Cami chided back.
And he doesn’t care about my awkwardness or my stupid freshman forty or whether I eat healthful, organic food. He likes me the way I am.

Paul returned bearing a slightly chilly box of condoms and a jar of something gooey and golden. “Honey,” he said.

“Darling? Sweetheart? Baby?” She grinned.

“Smartass.” He dropped to his knees on the carpet and pried the lid off the honey. “Another aphrodisiac, in case you were wondering.”

Cami watched his hands on the honey jar, not sure what he was planning to do with it, but pretty sure she was beyond caring if it stained her sofa.

As if reading her thoughts, Paul grinned. “I promise, not a drop will land on your furniture. I’ll make sure none of it goes to waste.”

With that, he pushed her back against the leather and tipped the jar onto her breasts. Honey drizzled out like sticky nectar, and Cami gasped as it slithered across her nipples. In an instant, his mouth was on her, devouring, licking, sucking.

She cried out and twined her fingers in his hair, gasping as he suckled one breast, then the other, then the other, until she was so dizzy she honestly wasn’t sure how many breasts she
had
. It felt like six or seven.

“Just a little more,” Paul whispered, and tipped the honey jar again. This time, the golden liquid oozed down her sternum and pooled in her belly button. Paul set the jar on the floor and slid his tongue up her abdomen, laving the edges of her ribcage before trailing back down again. He buried his tongue in her naval, swirling in slow circles before moving back up. Cami gasped as he detoured again to her nipples, making lazy swirls there until she thought she might pass out. He licked his way back down to her belly and then dipped lower, lower . . .

“More,” Cami gasped, clenching her thighs to hold his head in place.

“More,” Paul agreed, freeing himself to reach for the honey again. He drizzled it lower this time, and Cami gasped as the sticky liquid began a slow, languid trickle across her most sensitive flesh. Paul’s mouth was on her in an instant, licking softly at first as Cami squirmed and bucked and cried out. He circled his tongue over her, in her, making her mindless.

All she could feel was euphoric sensation, the pressure of his tongue, the warmth between her legs, the liquid heat. Paul gripped her thighs with both hands, pushing them apart. Cami had long since lost the urge to feel self-conscious, and instead gave in to the decadence of his tongue moving over her, tasting, probing.

“Oh, God!” she cried out as something exploded behind her eyelids and everything inside her burst in a honey-hued explosion of light and heat and color and sensation.

When she stopped panting, she brought her hips back down to the sofa and blinked at Paul through heavy eyelids. “Jesus,” was all she could manage to say.

Paul grinned and kissed the inside of her thigh. “Nope, just a chef.”

He reached for the top of the jar and twisted it back on. Then he stood and reached for his belt. “A chef whose condoms have likely thawed out by now.”

“Let me,” Cami gasped and grabbed hold of his belt buckle. She fumbled to unhook it with fingers made clumsy by eagerness and post-orgasm stupor. She tugged his zipper down and slid her hands up to the elastic of his boxer briefs. With one slick shove, she pushed them down his hips and over his thighs. Before Paul could kick them free, Cami grasped his hips in her palms and leaned forward.

“My turn,” she murmured, and took him in her mouth.

She had planned to reach for the honey, but the smooth heat of his flesh and the taste of him on the back of her tongue changed her mind. He tasted so good, and she took him deeper, sliding him against the roof of her mouth. Paul gasped and touched her hair, his fingers brushing lightly through the tangled curls. Cami swirled her tongue around him, savoring the velvety feel of his flesh. She dug her nails into his hips, pulling him to her so she could take more of him. She sucked gently, building pressure, teasing the tip of him with her tongue. Paul gasped and gripped her shoulder.

“Cami, stop. Or we won’t need those condoms.”

She sat back and grinned, pleased with herself. “Wouldn’t want those to go to waste.”

Paul grabbed the box where he’d dropped it on the arm of the sofa and began fumbling with it. Cami stood up and took the box from him. “Sit,” she commanded.

Paul sat, looking dazed, and Cami wondered what else she could order him to do. In this state, probably anything.

She got the box open and pulled out a condom, tearing into it as she dropped the rest of the box on the floor. She dropped to her knees and planted another long, slow, wet kiss on the tip of him before unrolling the condom in place. Then she stood up and pressed her left knee into the couch, slipping the right one on the other side of him. She straddled him neatly, just inches from feeling him inside her.

Paul closed his eyes and grasped her hips. Cami smiled and went still, wanting to savor the moment just a little longer. Paul opened his eyes again, the green flashing with a mixture of hunger and pleasure, and Cami felt something stir deep in her belly. She reached between them and gripped him with sure, gentle fingers. She raised herself up, hovering over him, just a breath of space between them now.

Then she slid over him, gasping as he filled her completely.

“Oh,
God
,” Paul groaned, gripping her hips tighter.

Cami tipped her head back and began to move, slowly at first. She circled her hips, savoring the feel of him deep, deep inside her. She pressed her belly against his and groaned from the sensory overload. Sweat-slick flesh, the sweet smell of honey, the taste of salt on his lips, the rush of his breathing. His beard brushed her collarbones, and Cami sighed with gratification. She circled her hips again, grinding against him.

Cami breathed him in, savoring the heady smell of fresh basil and river water. She twisted her fingers in his hair, tipping his head back to kiss him again. His lips were soft and rough all at once, the perfect balance of pleasure.

She moved more quickly, feeling the pressure build inside her. His fingers dug into her hipbones, and Cami arched her back, pressing herself against him. Her nipples grazed the fine hair on his chest and Cami cried out. Every nerve she had was electrified. Her fingertips buzzed, her toes curled, and her mouth went dry. She felt his breath hot against the hollow of her throat and pressed closer. Paul thrust hard into her, matching Cami’s pace. She circled her hips once more, and Paul’s eyes flew wide.

“Christ,” he gasped.

“Yes!” Cami screamed, as everything inside her pulsed with electricity. Jolt after jolt seized her, stealing her breath with endless currents of pleasure. Cami clenched her thighs around Paul’s hips, shrieking again. She could feel him pulsing inside her and Cami sank her teeth into his shoulder as waves of sensation crashed into her again and again and again.

Chapter Five

Less than twelve hours ago, Paul had toyed with the idea of cancelling his paddleboard yoga lesson and taking up mountain biking instead.

This was a way better ride,
he thought.

“What’s that?” Cami asked around a mouthful of sea scallop.

Paul blinked, startled to realize he’d spoken aloud. Then he grinned at the sight of her sitting naked at her kitchen table, her lush body covered by nothing but a gray linen napkin and a smudge of lemon cream sauce on her left breast.

“Let me get that,” he said, and leaned forward to lick the spot.

“You took the bait,” she said with soft moan, twisting her fingers into his hair. “I’ll have to resort to strategic sauce-spillage more often.”

“Please do,” Paul said, swirling his tongue around her nipple in a lazy circle before sitting back in his chair. “I’ll appoint myself your full-time cleanup specialist.”

Cami smiled and forked up another bite of salad. “If someone had told me this morning that I’d find myself dining naked with a gourmet chef, I would have laughed until I fell in the river.”

“You did fall in the river.”

“True. We should do that again sometime.”

“Definitely. So is this an add-on you offer with every private lesson?”

“Naked dining with the instructor, of course,” Cami said. “Didn’t you see it on my website?”

“I think I’m glad that’s not a perk you offer with group classes.” Paul grabbed three Tater Tots off the plate in the center of the table. “Open wide.”

“I love when you talk dirty.” She grinned and obeyed. Paul popped one of the tots in her mouth and watched her lips close around it. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as she chewed, and Paul felt his heart twist.

“I could watch you eat forever.”

Cami’s eyes fluttered open, and Paul realized he’d put his foot in his mouth again.

“I didn’t mean
forever,
forever,” he amended. “I mean we barely know each other, and I don’t want to imply I’m proposing to you, though obviously, any man would be incredibly lucky to marry you and—
mmmph
.”

Cami shoved one of the parmesan-covered tots in his mouth and grinned.

“Paul?”

“Mmm?”

“Thank you for getting rid of the photo.”

“My pleasure.”

“And for cleaning up the glass after you broke the frame.”

“Happy to do it.”

“And for telling me it’s okay to eat gourmet food and junk food and health food and
all
food without being a neurotic idiot about it.”

“Delighted to help.”

“And Paul?”

“Yes?”

Cami grinned. “I could listen to you stick your foot in your mouth forever, too.”

Paul forked up a bite of risotto and put it gently in her mouth. “Not a bad start.”

“Not a bad start at all,” she said, and picked up the empty platter. “More tots?”

“I’m good for now,” he said. “Satisfied. You?”

“Very.” She grinned, then pointed a fork at a platter next to Paul’s elbow. “You going to tell me what’s for dessert?”

“My Pièce de résistance. I call it the mocha nougat fondant. I melted Hershey’s Kisses, some instant coffee, a little hot chocolate mix, and a bit of water to form a paste. Then I sliced up a snickers bar, dipped it in the mocha paste, and dusted each piece with more cocoa. I served the whole thing on a swirl of melted caramel candies. Voila!”

Cami blinked, dumbfounded. “Gourmet junk food?”

“Absolutely. And this side dish here you’ve been devouring?”

“Mmmhmm,” Cami murmured through a spoonful of the delectable noodle dish.

“I call it Tom Khaa Ramen. It’s instant ramen noodles blended with the coconut filling from a Mounds bar and a few tablespoons of ketchup.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Junk food can be gourmet or it can be straight-up junk food, and there’s no shame in it either way. As long as it’s all in moderation.”

She smiled. “And I thought I was going to be the giving
you
a lesson today.”

“You did. You definitely did. That thing with the menthol cough drop and the counterclockwise tongue swirl with—”

“Eat,” Cami said, laughing as she forked a bite of Twinkie in his mouth. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned and dabbed his napkin at the corner of his mouth. “It works both ways, you know.”

“The cough drop thing?”

He laughed. “That, too, but it wasn’t what I meant. I mean moderation. Just because my brother says I need to keep an eye on my cholesterol doesn’t mean I need to spend six hours a day doing intense cardio workouts.”

“Were you planning to do that?”

He shrugged. “I’d considered it. If hard-bodied fitness junkies are the sort of men you go for.”

“You’re the sort of man I go for,” Cami said, grinning. “Just the way you are.”

“What would you say to a moonlight paddleboard workout?”

She laughed. “I’d say that sounds like a lovely idea. As long as you’re wearing a vest.”

“Safety first.”

“Safety second,” she said. “Or maybe third.”

“What comes before that?”

“Me,” she said with a wicked grin. “And you.”

Paul felt his heart surge, and he knew it had nothing at all to do with high blood pressure.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, and lifted his glass of pinot grigio.