Five
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CAMERON finished up the last twenty reps on the bench press in his home gym, sat up, and reached for the towel he'd left nearby. Drenched from his hard, hour-long workout, he swiped the towel across his face and along his neck, then stood and made his way to the shower in his master bedroom. He turned on the water, stripped off his damp shirt and shorts, and stepped into the spacious glass cubicle. The cool water felt great on his heated skin, as did the hard, pulsating spray beating against his pumped-up muscles.
After being presented with the newest extramarital case that past Monday, Cameron hadn't expected to have much free time in the evenings. At least not at home. But so far, the Shelton case hadn't required any nightly surveillance because Mrs. Shelton hadn't been working any overtime this week and had gone straight home after work. She seemed to be on her best behavior, and from what Cameron could conclude, even her lunch hours had been spent running legitimate errands. Alone and on her own.
If Cameron didn't know better, he'd say Mr. Shelton was being paranoid about his wife's whereabouts and activities. Unfortunately, Cam knew that a few days without any contact with a potential boyfriend didn't mean Mrs. Shelton was in the free and clear. Most likely, the opportunity to meet up with her lover hadn't been convenient for either of them, for whatever reason. So Cam had to just sit tight and wait for the two lovers to make their move and then exploit the opportunity when it presented itself. He was very familiar with the process and just how long it could take to gather enough solid, accurate evidence to present to a client.
With his hair scrubbed clean with shampoo, he soaped up his body and thought of all the other cases he'd brought home with him to work on. Most required some kind of Internet research, and because he spent a lot of daylight hours outside the office investigating other cases, handling interviews, and tracing leads, his evenings were filled with getting caught up on paperwork and what he and Steve fondly referred to as grunt work. It was boring, monotonous work, but it had to be done. And that was a great reason for them to hire another investigator, or even an assistant who could help them do the tedious work that would free him and Steve up for other more important things.
Finished with his shower, Cameron turned off the water and stepped out of the stall just as the doorbell rang. Swearing at the visitor's timing, he quickly dried off his body and ran the towel through his wet hair as he headed back into his bedroom to put on some pants.
The doorbell pealed again, followed by a brisk knock. As quick as he could manage, Cameron pulled on a pair of Levis, sans briefs, and buttoned them up as he jogged down the stairs to the entryway. Once there, he opened the door to find the person walking away and already halfway down the sidewalk.
He wasn't expecting company, but he'd recognize the sway of those curvaceous hips anywhere, as well as that sexy, heart-shaped ass that looked as though it had been poured into a snug pair of jeans.
"Mia?" His obvious surprise reflected in his tone.
She turned around quickly, causing her shoulder-length black hair to swirl around her shoulders like a cloud of silk. "Hi," she said, her voice catching on a sweet, breathless hitch. "You're home. I rang the doorbell and knocked a couple times, but when there was no answer—"
"I was in the shower," he explained.
"Oh." She started back toward the porch. "Sorry for the interruption," she murmured, but there was nothing contrite about the way her eyes took in his wet, tousled hair and then gradually dropped to his bare chest, which was still damp from his shower.
In that brazen, unapologetic way of hers, her eyes followed the light sprinkling of hair covering his pecs, all the way down his abdomen, past his navel, to the waistband of his
Previous Top Next
CAMERON finished up the last twenty reps on the bench press in his home gym, sat up, and reached for the towel he'd left nearby. Drenched from his hard, hour-long workout, he swiped the towel across his face and along his neck, then stood and made his way to the shower in his master bedroom. He turned on the water, stripped off his damp shirt and shorts, and stepped into the spacious glass cubicle. The cool water felt great on his heated skin, as did the hard, pulsating spray beating against his pumped-up muscles.
After being presented with the newest extramarital case that past Monday, Cameron hadn't expected to have much free time in the evenings. At least not at home. But so far, the Shelton case hadn't required any nightly surveillance because Mrs. Shelton hadn't been working any overtime this week and had gone straight home after work. She seemed to be on her best behavior, and from what Cameron could conclude, even her lunch hours had been spent running legitimate errands. Alone and on her own.
If Cameron didn't know better, he'd say Mr. Shelton was being paranoid about his wife's whereabouts and activities. Unfortunately, Cam knew that a few days without any contact with a potential boyfriend didn't mean Mrs. Shelton was in the free and clear. Most likely, the opportunity to meet up with her lover hadn't been convenient for either of them, for whatever reason. So Cam had to just sit tight and wait for the two lovers to make their move and then exploit the opportunity when it presented itself. He was very familiar with the process and just how long it could take to gather enough solid, accurate evidence to present to a client.
With his hair scrubbed clean with shampoo, he soaped up his body and thought of all the other cases he'd brought home with him to work on. Most required some kind of Internet research, and because he spent a lot of daylight hours outside the office investigating other cases, handling interviews, and tracing leads, his evenings were filled with getting caught up on paperwork and what he and Steve fondly referred to as grunt work. It was boring, monotonous work, but it had to be done. And that was a great reason for them to hire another investigator, or even an assistant who could help them do the tedious work that would free him and Steve up for other more important things.
Finished with his shower, Cameron turned off the water and stepped out of the stall just as the doorbell rang. Swearing at the visitor's timing, he quickly dried off his body and ran the towel through his wet hair as he headed back into his bedroom to put on some pants.
The doorbell pealed again, followed by a brisk knock. As quick as he could manage, Cameron pulled on a pair of Levis, sans briefs, and buttoned them up as he jogged down the stairs to the entryway. Once there, he opened the door to find the person walking away and already halfway down the sidewalk.
He wasn't expecting company, but he'd recognize the sway of those curvaceous hips anywhere, as well as that sexy, heart-shaped ass that looked as though it had been poured into a snug pair of jeans.
"Mia?" His obvious surprise reflected in his tone.
She turned around quickly, causing her shoulder-length black hair to swirl around her shoulders like a cloud of silk. "Hi," she said, her voice catching on a sweet, breathless hitch. "You're home. I rang the doorbell and knocked a couple times, but when there was no answer—"
"I was in the shower," he explained.
"Oh." She started back toward the porch. "Sorry for the interruption," she murmured, but there was nothing contrite about the way her eyes took in his wet, tousled hair and then gradually dropped to his bare chest, which was still damp from his shower.
In that brazen, unapologetic way of hers, her eyes followed the light sprinkling of hair covering his pecs, all the way down his abdomen, past his navel, to the waistband of his
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