Best Laid Plans

He straightened up and met her gaze. His smile slowly shifted from amusement back to searing lust. He ran his hands up and down her waist in slow, sensual sweeps. “I mean, what do you like?” he said, his voice low and gruff. “This can be as gentle or as rough as you want it.”

The word rough sang through her body. What did he imagine when he said it?

“How do you want this to be?” she hedged.

His eyes widened, and he smiled. “I wasn’t expecting that answer.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I want this to be the best night of your life. I want you to wake up missing the feeling of my cock in you.”

A rush of heat flooded her. His words turned her on just as much as his ravenous kisses. Jackson had no idea what to say.

He put his hand back on her waist. “How ’bout we start with this,” he said before his lips brushed the base of her jaw.

She swallowed and nodded.

His tongue was soft and teasing. She ran her hands over the thick muscles of his arms. He found the edge of her shirt and tugged it up. She pulled it over her head, and his breath caught. “Mmm... That bra is perfect.”

She smiled. See-through lace. Her nipples poked out, hard, begging for attention. “Glad you like it.”

“Hell, yeah.” He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over the peaks. She moaned, and his erection throbbed hard against her.

“Turn around,” he said.

She faced the door, and he unclasped the bra, pushing the straps over her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were heavy, and they tingled in the cool air. Would he play with them?

He knelt down behind her and unzipped her skirt. Oh. He slid his hands under the material and pushed the skirt over her hips. It fell to the floor, too, and she stood in nothing but her panties.

He didn’t touch at first. His breath came in gentle puffs on her back. “Lace again,” he said, running his hands over the material.

A little gasp escaped from her lips. He kissed the small of her back and eased the panties down, as well.

She was naked and giddy, but his caresses slowed. His hand trailed down her spine, and when he came to her rear, one finger continued. Then he stopped at the most daring place of all.

She shivered.

“You ever played here?” he asked softly.

Jackson hesitated. She hadn’t, but she was definitely curious. Should she say yes, just to see what it was like? She shook her head.

“Okay,” he said, and his finger trailed lower. “Then we’ll play here.”

His finger teased her clit, and then it was gone. He turned her around and tugged off his own shirt. He undid the front of his pants, and her mouth fell open as he reached in to give himself a long, hard stroke.

He looked up at her darkly. “First I want to lick you, and then I want to fuck you hard. How does that sound?”

“Like the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard,” Jackson blurted. Shit. That had slipped out.

He gave her a hungry smile. “Okay, sweetheart. Put your leg over my shoulder.”

She lifted her leg and rested it on the hard wall of muscles along his back. She was so exposed and wound up that she wasn’t sure how long she could stand like this.

He wrapped his hands around her hips and buried his face in her. He ran his tongue along her inner thigh until he reached her clit. Then he sucked hard. Pleasure shot through her body. She cried out and her head fell back. So he did it again. His tongue traveled over a new spot, exploring, learning her responses. But he went slowly, so slowly. Jackson tangled her hands into his hair, begging him for more. Shudders of heat rushed through her, more and more intense each time. He groaned when she responded, but he didn’t stop; he found new places to lick and suck, bringing her closer and closer until she fell back against the wall. Want turned to need. Then a bolt of ecstasy exploded inside, and she came in white-hot spasms.

She panted, trying to hold herself up. It was too much. He caught her in his arms and brought her down to the floor against him. He held her like that until her breaths slowed.

“That was amazing,” she whispered.

“We can do it as many times as you want,” he said.

His pants had fallen open, and his erection strained through the last layer of clothing between them. She kissed his shoulder and leaned back, taking in the sight of him. “When do you get naked?” she asked.

He put his hands on his knees and stood up in front of her. Oh. Now. She slid his pants down his legs. He toed off his shoes and kicked his pants aside. Jackson rose on her knees and fingered the waistband of his boxers.

She swallowed. Finally she was going to get a look at what promised to be the most impressive display she had ever seen, with or without glasses. Taking a deep breath, she inched down his waistband. His tip glistened in front of her. She tugged his boxers down farther, and he bent down to help her. He stepped out, and she got a nice, long view of him. Long being the operative word.

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

He laughed, and their eyes met. His smile faded. For one quiet moment, neither of them moved. The scene was outrageously erotic. She was naked on her knees, with his enormous cock bobbing in front of her, but there was something else, too. A different kind of spark between them, something that made this scene even better.

Whoa, girl. Way too deep for casual sex.

She looked away from his hypnotic blue eyes and began to explore. She traced him slowly from tip to base. His breaths quickened as she stroked and squeezed him, and he rocked into her touch.

He leaned forward to help her up, and he nodded to the bed.

“You ready?” All the smoothness in his voice was gone.

“Yes.”

He reached for his jeans and pulled out his wallet. The wrapper crackled as he tore it off and rolled on the condom. She was beyond caring that she was staring at him with open lust.

“Turn around,” he said softly, and she did.

He pressed up behind her, his erection hard against her back. Leaning over her, he moved her hair to one side and gently bit her earlobe. He reached around and squeezed her breasts. Oh, yes. He liked that, too. He played with her nipples, squeezing harder until she gasped.

“I want you from behind,” he said, his harsh breaths in her ear.

She nodded and crawled onto the bed, and he followed, never letting go of her. Spreading her legs farther with his knees, he slid his erection along every sensitive place. He teased her and played, and she moved to find new angles of pleasure. His tip pressed at her entrance, and her body yielded to him. With a low groan, he pushed himself all the way in.

She cried out, and he stilled, his fingers flexing hard on her hips.

“You okay?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” She could barely get out the sound. Everything felt full, and she squirmed to adjust.

“Hold on,” he bit out, and he held her in place. He pulled out slowly and sank back in hard.

A wild moan escaped her.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he growled.

“Yes,” she whispered.

In response, he did it again. Then again and again, pulling out and driving back in. Each time, she sank back on her knees, searching for more. Her body felt lighter as the pleasure built, threatening to explode inside her. His thrusts grew harder and more frantic.

“I—I’m going to...” she stuttered just as the pleasure flooded her once more, the long spasms racking her body. Her arms collapsed as wave after luscious wave of heat rolled through her.

His hips crashed against her, driving deeper, and he came with a torn roar. His big body fell over hers, and he rested his chest on her back. She collapsed in a boneless, sated heap.

Moments passed. He eased down onto the bed and shifted her to his side. His heart pumped in overdrive against her back, and his breath was heavy over her as he stroked her hair softly. She couldn’t see him, but he was everywhere, all around her, holding her close. Like his body belonged there, right against hers.

Wow. Just wow. This was what sex could be like? It was probably better than anything she’d ever have again. If she weren’t so tired, maybe she’d ask to do it one more time.

“My God,” she whispered. “If I had known that one-night stands were this good, I would have started doing this a long time ago.”

He didn’t laugh at her joke. He didn’t answer. He smoothed her hair once more and kissed her on the top of her head. His lips stayed there for an extra beat, and then they were gone.

He rolled away from her and wandered around the room, probably looking for somewhere to put the condom. He bent down and untangled his clothes from the heap on the floor. Was he leaving now? He stepped into his boxers and pulled on his jeans. He picked up his shirt, but he didn’t put it on. Instead, he sat down on the bed right next to her. It dipped under his weight.

Jackson was still wearing nothing, and she climbed under the covers. Her whole body felt heavy and slow. The jet lag was setting in hard. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she fought to open them again.

He pulled the blanket over her shoulders and studied her, but she couldn’t make out his expression.

“I think I should go,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

His teeth flashed in a smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll think of you often when I’m alone in bed.”

Jackson smiled. “Likewise.”

He stood up and headed for the door. When it clicked behind him, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

CHAPTER THREE

CAMERON WOKE UP with a hand on his cock. Damn. It was his hand, not the hand of the hot-as-hell woman who had featured in his dream. The woman with a smart, sexy mouth, a nice round ass and no name.

He was already hard as a rock and halfway there, so he slipped down his boxers and closed his eyes. Last night in the shower, he had gotten himself off to all the things he wanted to do with her nice round ass. This morning he’d dedicate to that smart, sexy mouth.

His fantasy began just like she had the night before. She’d touched him with her hands, but this time she’d use her lips and her tongue. Yes, those eager lashes of her tongue. In his dream, instead of walking out, he stayed for another round. He grasped her long, luscious hair in both hands and guided himself in and out of her mouth, thrusting deeper, while she stared up at him with those deep green eyes. Fuck.

Cameron gave himself a few last hard strokes and came with a loud groan. He collapsed back on his bed, panting. As the haze of pleasure faded, he shook his head and frowned. When was the last time he’d woken himself up like that? At least he should be able to lie back for a few more minutes of satisfaction. Instead he was restless. And irritable. And still thinking about her comment from the night before.

If I had known that one-night stands were this good, I would have started doing this a long time ago.

What the hell? One-night stands weren’t that good. In fact, Cameron couldn’t think of one that had come close. But when he opened his mouth to tell her, he’d stopped. If he said that the night went far beyond any one-night stand, then what? Starting today, he was supposed to keep his dick in his pants. There was no hope for a repeat performance. So he’d gotten dressed and walked out of the woman’s room instead.

He had told her he wanted her to remember it as the best night of her life. But by the time he left her, he’d reconsidered. If they were that good together on the first try, what would happen when they really started exploring each other?

No. That couldn’t happen. And he wasn’t about to ruin the memories of that night with sappy shit that didn’t matter anyway.

Cameron kicked off his covers, took a few long strides to the bathroom and slammed the door. He turned the shower on punishingly cold, hoping for a distraction. Because the more he thought about this no-women situation, the madder he got.

This PR bullshit the board had arranged was no longer just a nuisance. Last night it meant that he had had to walk away from the best sex in a long time. Maybe that woman was staying in Sydney for a while. Hell, maybe she even lived close by and they could have gone on fucking like that for days. Instead he was making a mess of himself in his boxers right before going to meet with that fucker Jackson McAllister.

Screw Harlan Blackmore and his board. This was the last straw. He had been waiting for the right moment to take control away from them for years, and this was it. His grandfather had built this business years ago to give veterans from his unit a purpose after the Vietnam War. It was the bond of the teams that made his grandfather’s business strong, not the latest PR. Okay, so his team may have gotten a little careless with their public image, but hiring a babysitter to shadow and report on Cameron smacked of his father’s dirty tactics. Harlan had latched on to this situation and intervened as a show of force. There wasn’t too much bad press at this point. Wouldn’t a warning from the board have sufficed? Then Cameron could’ve dealt with his team on his own terms. He needed to show his father and the board just how far up their asses their heads were. And the best way to do that would be to send Jackson McAllister home looking like an idiot.

He shut off the water and toweled off, then he strode into his walk-in closet and reached for a pair of jeans. One leg into them, he stopped and cursed. Probably should wear a suit for this meeting.

By the time he climbed the dock off his building, he still wasn’t thinking clearly. His boat floated peacefully in its berth. Maybe a good fast ride across the harbor would help. Buying that boat was the best decision he’d made since he moved to Sydney. No crowds, no traffic, everything in sight. Those trips across the water every day were the few moments he didn’t have to be on guard. Cameron nodded at the captain and took a seat. He enjoyed this type of travel...and he knew from his army days there were worse ways to get around. Hell, after the plane crash he’d been through, no one could fault him for being picky in that regard.

He pushed those thoughts aside.

If he’d learned anything in the military, it was just how much better things went with a clear plan. And judging from the start of his morning, he was in no state to come up with a good one. But in this pissy mood, any plan was better than none. As the boat passed under the Harbour Bridge, he sent an email to his team. Tonight at dinner they’d figure out Jackson McAllister’s weak spots. Tomorrow they’d figure out how to use them.

But planning didn’t help. When he walked through the glass doors into the Blackmore Inc. office, his mood was just as dark.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackmore.”

He bit out a greeting to Chloe, the receptionist, and headed for his office.

“Mr. Blackmore,” she called after him. “Jackson McAllister is waiting for you in the small conference room.”

He grunted but didn’t turn around. What the hell? The guy wasn’t supposed to be there for another thirty minutes. Cameron changed direction and headed straight for the conference room. He was going to have to tell that fuckwit to come back later.

He burst through the door and came to a full stop. In one of the chairs he saw a woman, not a man. The rear of a woman, to be specific, turned away, bending over a mess of papers on the floor. What the—

“Sorry. Just a moment,” came a voice from under the round table.

A voice that awakened his entire body. He gave himself a little shake. What the fuck was going on?

“I got the time mixed up...” The woman rose with a pile of papers and turned. And froze.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Damn.”

It was her. The hot-as-hell woman. His body had known the moment she spoke, and now his mind finally registered it. Her lips were pale, not red, and she was wearing glasses, but this only added to her appeal. She had her long, silky hair up in a bun. He already knew the feeling of a fistful of that hair, and he had gotten himself off to what those lips would look like around his—

“What are you doing here?” he barked.

The words came out as more of an accusation than a question. Lust must have short-circuited his brain because he still couldn’t figure out how the hell this woman had ended up at his office building.

But as he glared across the room at her, all the wonder disappeared from her expression. She took off her glasses and blinked at him a couple times before putting them back on. She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together into a tight smile. She stood up and stuck out her hand for a handshake.

“Jackson McAllister,” she said. “The board warned me about your growling.”

Cameron screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. He opened his eyes again, but nothing changed. The same woman was still glaring at him.

“What the hell?” he whispered. “You’re not a man.”

Jackson dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows. “I think you and I already established that last night, Mr. Blackmore,” she said drily. “And you’re supposed to have a beard.”

So... She was Jackson McAllister. The person the board had sent to rein in him and his team. Or try to. And he had already given her an eye-opening welcome. Cameron rubbed his temples.

“But Jackson’s a man’s name,” he muttered to himself.

She shook her head slowly. “Why do I feel like I’m back in elementary school?”

“I’m long past elementary school, Ms. McAllister,” he snapped. “I think we established that last night, too.”

Her face betrayed no emotion, but a deep flush crept up her neck. Which brought him right back to the place his mind absolutely should not go now. The last time those cheeks reddened like that was—

Shit. What was he supposed to do now? Pull out a chair for her all gentleman-like? Ignore the fact that he had just had mind-bending sex with her less than twelve hours ago? He huffed out a breath and sank into his own chair at the table.

He crossed his arms and leaned back, scrambling to get a handle on the situation. Wait. He’d had no idea who she was last night, but had she known who he was? Was this part of some larger scheme to “tame” him? He nearly snarled at the thought. It sure as hell hadn’t felt that way. And when he walked into the conference room, she’d looked just as confused as he had felt. But he couldn’t rule it out.

“You had to know it was me last night,” he said slowly. “Didn’t the board give you photos or something?”

Jackson rolled her eyes. “I didn’t spend hours gazing at your profile, if that’s what you mean. You had a beard in most of them, and last night I took my contacts out because my eyes were killing me.”

Well, those glasses gave her an innocent-but-naughty look that would turn him on right here if he kept thinking about it. Fighting for calm, he said, “Screw it. Let’s do this.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and another blush washed over her cheeks. Wait—did he just catch her staring at his biceps? She sat down quickly in her chair and smoothed her skirt over her legs. She grabbed the files she had just collected from the floor and cleared her throat.

“I’m here to give you a boost of intensive public relations support,” she said. “I’ll be looking at every detail of your day and coming up with a plan for improvement.”

“Any suggestions so far?” The comment slipped out before he could think better of it. And fuck if she didn’t lick her lips before she could think better of it.

But the glossy look in her eyes quickly switched back to a glare. “The board wants a detailed report,” she said sharply. “And there I’ll make suggestions for the future.”

All his retorts faded. He hadn’t missed the board’s veiled threat. If Cameron didn’t run his company the Harlan Blackmore way, someone else would. But he hadn’t missed Jackson’s threat, either. And the glare she still fixed on him said the same thing: Don’t mess with me.

Cameron ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “How the hell do you propose we make this work, Jackson?”

She let out a little sigh. Her eyes softened, and she pushed her glasses up her nose. For a moment, she looked just as mixed up about the situation as he was. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady and all business.

“We just forget about last night and do our jobs,” she said. “I’m over it. You’re a big boy. You can get past it, too, can’t you?”

She knew just how much of a big boy he was, but now wasn’t the time to point this out.

“I think I can manage that,” he said drily. “Let’s get to work.”

She opened a file and pushed it toward him. He picked up the printouts of newspaper articles and photos one by one. He had seen most of them before. They featured various members of his team with different women from different jobs. Most of them weren’t remarkable. He could see her point, too—he did have a beard in most of them.

“These are clients,” he said.

She picked up one of Max and a high-profile actress. He was whispering something in her ear, and if the sultry smile on her face was any indication, she was ready for him to do a lot more.

“He looks more like a male escort than a bodyguard,” she said.

Cameron took the photo back. “What can I say? He’s good at his job.”

He continued through the pile. He found a photo of himself coming out of a pub with two women, one on each side. He was talking to one, and the other was holding on to his bicep, her mouth next to his ear.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“Let me guess,” she said sweetly. “You’re good at your job, too?”

He rested his gaze on her. “I am good at my job.” He added softly, “And aside from that, I prefer to enjoy women one at a time.”

She didn’t answer, but she lost some of the hardness in her expression. What was going on in her mind right now? Did she like more than one man at a time? The idea boiled in him. Hell, no. But that was the last thing he should be getting upset about right now. Nothing was going to happen between them again. Not a bloody thing.

He leafed through the rest of the photos and articles until he came to one that made him stop. It was a single photo with no words. There was no other indication of where it came from except for a long web address at the top of the page.

“Where did you find this?” he snapped.

Jackson took the paper from his hand and studied it. “I’m not sure about this one. We ran a search on the company’s name and all your team members’ names and printed out everything we came across from this last year. Why are you asking?”

“That’s not a client. That’s Derek Latu with his wife, Laurie.”

“He’s married?” she asked, as if this were the last thing she expected to hear.

“Very happily. Surprised?” Cameron gave her a pointed look. “I told you this shit doesn’t tell the whole story.” He gestured to the photo. “Yes, he has a wife, but she stays far away from any press. She’s had some stalker issues in the past.”

“Oh.” Jackson looked at the web address again. “It doesn’t come from anywhere I recognize.”

“That’s what worries me.” He looked at the photo once more and set it aside on the table. “Can I keep this? I want to show it to Derek.”

Jackson nodded and gathered together the rest of the clippings.

“Whether these photos represent jobs or—” she waved her hand around as if she were searching for the right words “—or other encounters is beside the point from a PR perspective. This is going to become the Blackmore Inc. image if you don’t make some changes.”

“Says my father,” finished Cameron with more than a little bitterness.

He thought she’d deny it, but she didn’t. Instead, Jackson gave him a look that was almost sympathetic. “Yes. But it’s important for the company, too. Especially if you’re saying we’re not seeing the whole story.”