jeans. She licked her bottom lip, prompting him to recall how soft and warm that tongue of hers had been when she'd taken his hard cock deep inside her mouth.
His lower body stirred accordingly to that provocative thought, and he bit back the groan that automatically rose to the surface. No doubt about it, this woman was going to be the death of him, and he wondered if she'd come by for the sole purpose of torturing him with what he wanted so badly. Her. Hot and melting beneath him. Again. It was clear to him that even after sleeping with her, Mia Wilde was far from being out of his system. He was beginning to wonder if she ever would be.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch, tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, pull her close, and kiss her senseless. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest.
"So, what brings you by?" he asked in a lazy drawl.
Her full breasts rose and fell as she inhaled a deep breath, and something akin to distress flashed in her gaze. The brief glimpse was quickly masked by that tough facade of hers. "Something's happened, and I need your help."
He raised a brow, both intrigued and concerned by her statement. He couldn't begin to imagine what had happened for Mia to admit she needed help, let alone come to him of all people for it. But whatever had transpired, it seemed serious, and he wasn't about to turn her away without hearing what she had to say first.
"Come on in." He stood aside so she could enter the house and then shut the door after her and led the way into his kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator and grabbed himself a cold beer, thinking he could probably use something stronger to deal with Mia, but he wanted his wits about him tonight. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, soda, or beer."
She shook her head. "Nothing for me, thanks."
Twisting the cap off the bottle, he tossed the metal disc into the trash and took a seat on one of the kitchen counter bar stools across from where she was standing. Distance was the key with this woman, he decided, because any kind of close proximity was dangerous as hell to his libido. Except the counter cut off his view of her at the waist, drawing his attention to her low-cut, snug-fitting, lace-trimmed camisole top and the way the soft pink cotton material molded to her voluptuous breasts.
Oh, hell.
Forcing his mind to concentrate on the situation at hand and not on Mia's very luscious body, he guzzled a long drink of his beer as he lifted his gaze back up where it belonged and took in her expression. He could immediately tell by the crease of her brows that she was upset about something, even though she was trying hard not to let it show.
It was such a novelty to him to see yet another side to her persona, to realize that Mia was a woman with real feelings and emotions, and even had a few chinks in that headstrong personality of hers. He wondered what really lurked beneath all that bravado of hers and then decided he was probably better off not knowing.
"So what's up?" he asked, turning the conversation toward business and the reason for her impromptu visit.
She met his gaze, not as the sultry seductress he'd come to know, but as a woman seriously in need of help. "I received something very disturbing in the mail today."
That immediately piqued his interest as well as his P.I. instincts. "What, exactly, did you receive?"
"Pictures. Of me. They were taken last Friday night at The Electric Blue," she explained calmly. "But it's not the pictures that bother me so much as what someone wrote on them."
Cameron was more curious than ever. "Do you have the pictures with you?"
She nodded. "I figured you'd want to see them, so I brought everything for you to look at." Opening her purse, she pulled out an envelope and then handed it to him from across the countertop.
Setting his beer
His lower body stirred accordingly to that provocative thought, and he bit back the groan that automatically rose to the surface. No doubt about it, this woman was going to be the death of him, and he wondered if she'd come by for the sole purpose of torturing him with what he wanted so badly. Her. Hot and melting beneath him. Again. It was clear to him that even after sleeping with her, Mia Wilde was far from being out of his system. He was beginning to wonder if she ever would be.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch, tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, pull her close, and kiss her senseless. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest.
"So, what brings you by?" he asked in a lazy drawl.
Her full breasts rose and fell as she inhaled a deep breath, and something akin to distress flashed in her gaze. The brief glimpse was quickly masked by that tough facade of hers. "Something's happened, and I need your help."
He raised a brow, both intrigued and concerned by her statement. He couldn't begin to imagine what had happened for Mia to admit she needed help, let alone come to him of all people for it. But whatever had transpired, it seemed serious, and he wasn't about to turn her away without hearing what she had to say first.
"Come on in." He stood aside so she could enter the house and then shut the door after her and led the way into his kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator and grabbed himself a cold beer, thinking he could probably use something stronger to deal with Mia, but he wanted his wits about him tonight. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, soda, or beer."
She shook her head. "Nothing for me, thanks."
Twisting the cap off the bottle, he tossed the metal disc into the trash and took a seat on one of the kitchen counter bar stools across from where she was standing. Distance was the key with this woman, he decided, because any kind of close proximity was dangerous as hell to his libido. Except the counter cut off his view of her at the waist, drawing his attention to her low-cut, snug-fitting, lace-trimmed camisole top and the way the soft pink cotton material molded to her voluptuous breasts.
Oh, hell.
Forcing his mind to concentrate on the situation at hand and not on Mia's very luscious body, he guzzled a long drink of his beer as he lifted his gaze back up where it belonged and took in her expression. He could immediately tell by the crease of her brows that she was upset about something, even though she was trying hard not to let it show.
It was such a novelty to him to see yet another side to her persona, to realize that Mia was a woman with real feelings and emotions, and even had a few chinks in that headstrong personality of hers. He wondered what really lurked beneath all that bravado of hers and then decided he was probably better off not knowing.
"So what's up?" he asked, turning the conversation toward business and the reason for her impromptu visit.
She met his gaze, not as the sultry seductress he'd come to know, but as a woman seriously in need of help. "I received something very disturbing in the mail today."
That immediately piqued his interest as well as his P.I. instincts. "What, exactly, did you receive?"
"Pictures. Of me. They were taken last Friday night at The Electric Blue," she explained calmly. "But it's not the pictures that bother me so much as what someone wrote on them."
Cameron was more curious than ever. "Do you have the pictures with you?"
She nodded. "I figured you'd want to see them, so I brought everything for you to look at." Opening her purse, she pulled out an envelope and then handed it to him from across the countertop.
Setting his beer
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