Wet Dream

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Wet Dream Copyright  2011 by J.M. Madden ISBN: 978-1-61333-025-8 Cover art by Dara England All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC Look for us online at: www.decadentpublishing.com

Wet Dream J.M. Madden

A 1 Night Stand Story

~DEDICATION~

To the Decadent Publishing Team. What a fantastic group of women you are. You make me proud to be a part of the company. Every single one of you are phenomenal! Thank you for everything!

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Chapter One Ginger tapped her nails on the frosty glass in front of her and straightened the white linen tablecloth. She tried to suppress a sigh as she glanced at the slim, gold Cartier on her wrist. Fifteen minutes late. How long should she wait for a noshow? Without appearing desperate? Underneath the table, she uncrossed her legs then re-crossed them in the opposite direction, tucking the short, black skirt under her thighs. She fought the urge to pick up her phone to check the email yet again. She remembered the thing verbatim, anyway. Madame had been very clear in her instructions: wait in the hotel bar and give him extra time for his cold feet. How much time did she have to give the mystery man, though? Fifteen minutes? An hour? Did he know where to go and who he was to meet? Hell, was that why he had “cold feet”? Ginger intimidated the stronger sex all the time, although she never intentionally tried. As an ex-federal officer, six feet tall and attractively built, men usually reacted to her in one of two ways. The law enforcement types inevitably became ballsy, regaling her with tales of bravery and heroism too outrageous to believe. All the other guys tended to be too intimidated to even talk to her—at least in anything other than a professional capacity. Eight years after she’d quit the Bureau, they still reacted the same way. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Men were such contrary creatures. She had decided to try to bypass all the meeting and greeting bullshit by engaging Madame Eve’s dating service, 1NightStand. That way, the men knew up front her history and what she wanted. She found nothing more humiliating than showing up for a date to find the man wasn’t even six feet tall. Eve’s emails had reassured her that she had the perfect match in mind. Ginger raised the drink to her lips, let the apple martini slide over her tongue, and set the empty glass to the edge of the table. The barman arrived at her side

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immediately and she ordered another, as well as an artichoke dip appetizer. She would give her mystery date thirty more minutes then leave. *** Cameron debated what to do about the customer. She downed drinks like they were going out of style. Alex, the bartender, had texted him a little while before to warn him that the upset woman might be drinking a little more than she should. But he was already aware of the situation. Hell, he’d been watching her for forty minutes. As soon as she’d walked into view of the closed-circuit cameras, she’d drawn his eye. From the way she glanced at her watch and the doorway, she’d been stood up. The schmuck needs shooting. Standing up a woman gorgeous enough to make a man’s toes curl. Idiotic. He stared, unable to drag his eyes away from the screen. Dark auburn hair curled to the middle of her slender back, outlined by the black dress she wore; long calves pressed together and tipped to the side, shiny heels resting on the footrest of the barstool. The camera position didn’t allow him to see her face, only the smooth, feminine jaw and plump, glossy lips when she occasionally peered toward the door. He zoomed in, praying for a better shot, or for her to turn around, but neither happened. He wondered what she looked like full on. If her front matched her back, she would stop traffic. Cameron shifted in his chair, debating what to do. She had a right to get schnockered if she wanted to, but she didn’t seem the type to let go that way. Her demeanor had been too reserved. As of right now, she caused no problems, so he had no real need as chief of security to talk to her. Was she the one Madame told him to keep an eye out for? Her description had been blunt, but uninformative: You will know her when you see her. Take care of her for the night. Do not let her appearance deter you, chèr. She has scars, too. Cameron gritted his teeth. He did not like being manipulated, but had no choice in the matter. Madame Eve had gotten him the job at the Castillo New York, and he owed her a lot. Surveying the bank of security monitors, he searched for some reason to put 2

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off going downstairs. Everything was quiet. He desperately wanted to study the woman up close, but desire that strong only led to trouble. Fuck it. He shoved to his feet, startling the guard behind him. “I’ll be down at the bar.” Young Michael nodded his head. “Yes, sir.” Cameron tried to prepare himself as he strode down the ornate hallway. In spite of what he claimed, excitement sped up his heart and feet. Out of habit, his eyes scanned as he walked, checking for anything out of place that might indicate a problem. Brass shone in the low light and the carpet was spotless. The windows with a view of the luxurious lobby gleamed. Management prided themselves on the back of the house being as presentable as the front. The opulence had no effect on him. After three years in the Castillo’s employ, he had become used to the sumptuous surroundings and the wealthy patrons who frequented the chain of hotels. It all seemed old hat now. Boring. The beauty pulling him downstairs presented a break in routine. He hadn’t experienced motivation like this, for, well, years. Alex and the woman were the only ones in the bar when he arrived. The elegant curve of her spine invited him closer. The bartender leaned over the gleaming mahogany, smiling. When Cameron glared at him as he strode closer, Alex walked away and the woman’s head turned, following his retreat. Cameron stopped at her shoulder and she straightened, tipping her delicate chin toward him. He struggled to maintain his surprise as he saw her glorious face for the first time and recognized her instantly. High cheekbones, hazel eyes like pieces of shattered stained glass…Ginger Hampton was more beautiful in person than he could have imagined. For the first time in four years, awareness flowed through him at the sight of a woman. Her gaze scanned his face then drifted down his rangy body, settling on the scars on his neck, and he waited for an expression of disgust to materialize. God, how could he have forgotten? His heart clenched and his breath paused in his lungs. But it didn’t happen. Instead, her painted red mouth broadened into a full smile. “Hello,” she said. 3

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Cock hardening instantly, he struggled to remember their surroundings. They were in the Castillo bar, not in his suite. Her voice was surprisingly smoky, and he wondered if it was that way naturally or as a result of the alcohol. Either way, he wanted to hear more. She personified sex, and his damaged body wanted to participate. His cheeks heated as he remembered the dog-eared security manual lying on the floor beside his bed, open to her ad. How mortifying to be staring into the face of his wet dream. Literally. The pose in the magazine was professional in the extreme. She wore a plain black suit with a narrow skirt, her hair rolled up in a bun. Something about the look in her eyes, though, made him think sex. She blinked up at him, quirking a dark brow in question. Her expression gentled as heat washed over his cheeks. He was relieved when the drink suddenly became fascinating to her. “Sorry,” she whispered. Ridiculous. Thirty-eight years old and an attractive, intuitive woman could knock him off guard. It never used to be that way; years ago, he did the flustering, and he had never gone without female companionship for any length of time. Until the accident that blew his world apart. Four years after his return from Iraq, his confidence with the opposite sex had pretty much tanked. Concentrating, forcing himself to be personable, he held his hand out. She didn’t hesitate to clasp it strongly. Intrigued in spite of himself, heat surged up his arm from the point of contact. “Cameron.” The woman smiled sweetly and gave his hand an extra shake. If she noticed the warmth, she didn’t give any indication. “Ginger.” A thrill went through him as she confirmed her identity. One of the most photographed and recognizable forces in the security world, she had resigned from the FBI years before. High-end corporate issues were her forte now. A couple of years ago, she had made the papers for rescuing the four-year old daughter of a Fortune 500 CEO. He’d snipped the piece and pored over it repeatedly during his months of recovery. When he’d been released from the hospital, he’d tucked the threadbare clipping in his underwear drawer. “Ginger,” he asked, “mind if I sit with you a minute?” 4

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Interest lightened her unique hazel eyes, and his ego thumped. Didn’t his appearance bother her? If she was interested, he would seriously try to work up the balls to acknowledge it. She waved a manicured hand and shifted her knees to give him room. Cameron hiked himself onto the little stool and rested his left elbow on the mahogany rail, his body angled toward her. Alex set a Diet Coke at his elbow, winked at her, and retreated to serve another customer who had entered. He cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, waiting for somebody?” She blinked at him and frowned at the almost empty glass in front of her. “Yes. A date.” She tossed him a wry smile. “But he didn’t show up.” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “He’s an hour late now.” Cameron’s brows lowered in disbelief. Who would leave someone so beautiful and intelligent hanging that way? “I seriously hope he’s in the hospital or being mugged downtown or some other catastrophic event. He better have a damn good excuse.” Ginger laughed and swallowed the last of her drink, her expression dark with sadness as she faced him again. “Thank you for that. I don’t know why he didn’t show. We were set up through a dating service.” Madame Eve. Cameron struggled with the thought that she had to be set up on a date. The woman was bangin’ hot and knew people. It amazed him that she didn’t already have a family, let alone a boyfriend. Ginger quirked a sleek auburn brow at him. “You’re wondering why I employed a dating service.” She raised a smooth shoulder delicately, the silver chain at her throat glinting in the low light. “I wanted somebody with more substance than I could find in my circles. Most of the guys I know are either too full of themselves, freaks, or too scared to ask. I needed somebody objective to help out and guide me in the right direction.” Resignation tightened her features. “Worked great, huh?” Cameron’s jaded heart shuddered at her obvious disappointment. But he could understand her reasoning. And he could certainly sympathize with the men. Honestly, he didn’t know if he had the balls to ask her out. You’re on duty, asshole. You can’t. He’d been directed to work the night shift tonight for a reason. 5

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Surely he’d located the woman Madame had told him to watch for. He pulled his cell phone out and typed off a quick text, letting Mike know he was going off shift. He offered Ginger a slight smile, just enough for the scar to tug at his lips. Taking a deep breath and his courage in hand, he asked her, “Can I buy you a coffee?” *** A frantic thrill coursed through Ginger’s body. The intensity of the feeling surprised her. The battle-scarred man beside her appealed to her in ways she didn’t expect, but was more than happy to explore. “Absolutely,” she told him with a grin. She would have preferred another martini, but maybe a little head clearing would be good. She wanted to be on her toes. Actually, I’d rather be in bed with him. His hard mouth twitched with surprise at her quick acceptance. He had probably expected her to decline. Normally, she would have, simply out of habit. Strange men approached her all the time, trying to get some kind of reaction. They saw her in a magazine or brochure for her company and acted as if they were acquainted and had special privileges to her. Pissed her off to no end. This guy was not the type that usually appealed to her. A rough life had etched itself across his strong face. Subtle scars puckered his left cheek, around his neck, and disappeared beneath the collar of his suit. The scarring had resulted from a burn, but she couldn’t tell how long ago. Black hair trimmed close, shaved at the neck and a tad longer on top, hinted at some kind of military background, and his attire suggested he worked in security. Hmm, the only drawback. She had hired Madame Eve specifically to get her away from law enforcement and armed forces types, but they tended to be the rescuers. She glanced at his body out of the corner of her eye. The black suit and matching shirt fitted nicely to his broad, muscular frame, but did not appear expensive. And he was tall, well over six feet. She’d had to crane her neck up at him from her stool, and she didn’t often have to do that. The thought of being feminine and not having to try to fit in as “one of the boys” thrilled her. 6

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“Black?” Ginger frowned. Black? Oh, the coffee. Yes, time to lay off the martinis. She nodded. “Please.” Cameron tipped his chin and the young man delivered two steaming cups within seconds. She inhaled the aroma, eyes closed, then smiled her appreciation. Though she didn’t do anything wrong, Ginger felt a little guilty when she opened her eyes and looked at Cameron. She had to wonder if he thought she was flirting. Previous boyfriends had been suspicious of any contact she had with other men, even something innocuous as a business meeting or suspect interview. Girlfriends tended to think she had her sights set on their men, even when she didn’t. Everybody always assumed things about her, and it was frustrating being on the defensive all the time. One of the reasons she was in New York was to try to resurrect a friendship after a miscommunication. Her rescuer blew on the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. The scar pulled up one corner of his mouth, but his lips could still tighten. Still flexible enough for kissing, then. He would probably taste like coffee, but what else? Dark stubble shadowed his jaw—how would it rub against her skin? He licked his full lips and pursed them in a frown. Ginger realized she was staring and forced her gaze down to her cup. She didn’t want to make him self-conscious. “So,” she murmured, “do you work here at the hotel?” Cameron took another heavy swallow of the steaming coffee. “I do. I’m chief of security.” For a split second, Ginger debated telling him what she did professionally, but decided against it. Actually, the man seemed familiar to her. A memory teased at her mind. The sight of a broad back walking down the hallway, away from her. That had been the last time she’d stayed here, several months before. Could it have been him? The image had stuck with her vividly. She quirked a brow and leaned toward him, putting flirtation into her voice. “Really? Ever catch anybody having sex in the elevators?” He snorted. “A time or two, yes. And skinny dipping in the pool. And of course, 7

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the ‘hot tub incident’.” She giggled, intrigued. “Incident?” He leaned toward her. Their shoulders brushed, and she sighed. Very nice. “Yep. A gentleman guest decided one of the hot tub intakes would be a good place to put his, well, you know.” Chuckling, she rested her fingers on his forearm. “Seriously?” Cautious gray eyes flicked down to her hand. She’d laid the girlie thing on a little thick, but she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t actually appear disturbed, only surprised. Did the scars pose that much of an obstacle for women? Well, this was New York, a city that prided itself on false beauty. His physical imperfections didn’t bother her, though. This man actually lived and had the marks to prove it. “Seriously.” His dark head nodded solemnly. “We had to shut down the main floor of the hotel for several hours while the fire department extricated him.” Ginger covered her mouth with her hand. “The poor man had to have been mortified. Did he survive?” His right eyebrow kicked up and he grinned. “Well, other than some swelling, he did recover.” She laughed and rocked sideways on her stool, almost losing her balance. A strong hand snatched her arm and hauled her back into position. “Thank you,” she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh, my, I needed that. Thank you, Cameron.” The big man motioned behind him. “Why don’t we go sit in a booth before you fall down?” She stared at him for a long minute. “No, I don’t think so.” She waved down the bartender, who snatched a receipt from the cash register and handed it to her, along with a pen. She scrawled her name across the bottom and handed them back. “Can you have room service send a pot of coffee up to my room, please? Thirteen-seventeen.” He nodded and reached for the house phone. She slid off the stool and smoothed her hands down her halter dress, tightening her tummy and squaring her shoulders. Cameron’s eyes drifted slowly 8

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up her body, following her movements, and her nipples responded to the weight of his gaze. Her stomach clenched at her daring. “Would you join me upstairs?”

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Chapter Two Cameron didn’t say anything for a long time, and Ginger worried that she’d moved too quickly. His brows furrowed in a frown. Insecurity tightened the lines of his face, but his ingrained military conduct came to the fore. “I’ll walk you up to your room,” he said finally, slipping off the stool to stand beside her. He offered less than she expected, but she would take it. Maybe she could convince him to stay longer once they got up there. She rested her hand in the crook of his elbow as he stepped beside her. She enjoyed walking with a man taller than her. It didn’t happen very often. Although she appreciated her height, and the career it had helped make possible for her, she found it tedious having to look down at everybody. Too many men became defensive when they felt short. Or they suddenly found it difficult to lift their eyes higher than her chest. Cameron waved to the bartender as they left, and Ginger had a feeling the coffee would be waiting for them when they got to the room. The service at the Castillo Hotel was beyond reproach, but for the chief of security, it would be exemplary. She stayed here whenever she visited the city. Her hometown of Chicago housed one of the hotels as well, and she often escorted business clients to the restaurant there for the remarkable five-star dining. The staff members at both hotels were real and personable. They remembered her name and her preferences. More than once Ginger had called at the last minute, and the reservations department had always found her an available suite. Madame Eve had some explaining to do, though, about the fallen through date. So much for her perfect success rate for 1NightStand. Ginger pushed the worry aside and concentrated on her companion. She squeezed his forearm slightly, and the muscles beneath the jacket hardened. Oh,

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my. She wanted to run her hand up his arm, around his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, and into his short hair. Her hungry body warmed at the thought of exploring him further, her knight in scarred armor. Although guarded right now, if he got over his insecurities he would probably be a wonderful lover. He had been very solicitous toward her, shifting to give her space yet staying close enough to clasp her elbow when she needed it. All too soon, the glass elevator jetted them up the outside of the hotel. She glanced at the lit skyscrapers around them, but her gaze was drawn to her escort. Tension began to mount the closer they got to her room. Does he feel it as well? The clenched muscles in his square jaw told her he did. “Are you attached, Cameron?” Her breath stalled in her lungs as she waited for his reply. His expression twisted. “What do you think?” Ginger blinked at the self-deprecation in his tone. “I think a woman would be lucky to be with you,” she told him honestly. Surprise lightened his bold features and his lips curved. “Well, thank you, but not everybody feels the same way.” A story waited to be told there, and Ginger believed she knew what it was. Women could be ruthless, mercenary creatures, too worried about aesthetics. “Well,” she whispered, “they should.” Although her words had been quiet, his gaze slammed to hers. In his eyes, she saw the burning, all-consuming need to belong. It was heartbreakingly obvious he wanted that as much as she did. If just for the night. That need had driven her for years and made her different from everyone else she knew. Rather than chasing adrenalin all the time, she wanted a calmer way of life. That need had spurred her resignation from the Bureau. She wanted to belong to someone, not something. They walked down the ornate hallway together, in step, all the way to her door. The coffee service waited outside. Cameron pulled a key card from his breast pocket, snapped it into the lock, and pushed her door open. She winked at him as she brushed by. “Master key, huh?” 11

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He tugged the cart in and pushed it to the center of the sitting room, next to the coffee table. The suite was equipped with a formal area to receive guests, a small kitchenette, a bathroom, office, and expansive bedroom. More room than a guest should ever need. Ginger kicked her heels off at the end of the sofa and padded to the small kitchenette. She retrieved porcelain cups, proud when her hand held steady in spite of her nerves. She filled them from the steaming carafe and handed one to him. “Have a seat.” She took the other cup and curled up on the couch with her legs folded to the side. Cameron hesitated for a minute before sitting on the far end, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee. She counted it a small victory, because he could have settled in one of several other places with more distance between them. As she cradled her drink between her palms, she debated what to talk about. “This is a very nice suite,” Cameron murmured. She blinked, and tried not to laugh at the nervousness in his voice. He acted as if he had never seen it before. “It is,” she agreed. “Although I’ve never been in a bad one. Everything Castillo is top of the line.” She let her attention drift around the room, hoping he didn’t realize she spoke about him. The room was beautiful, though. Black marble floors in the kitchenette, heavy brocade drapes, plush carpeting from corner to corner. Everything top notch. Floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the lights of the city to shine. Her eyes wandered to the open bedroom door. The freshly made bed begged to be rumpled. There was a soft glow from one side of the room, probably the small reading lamp. Cameron followed her gaze then looked away. “What do you do, Ginger?” She raised her brows at the obvious ploy. Okay. “I’m a corporate security analyst. Mostly business, although my firm does sometimes take personal events. Weddings, birthdays, special gatherings.” He shifted on the seat. “I thought I recognized you when I saw your face, but I didn’t know for sure until you gave me your first name. I read one of your articles recently, about terrorist threats. Fascinating. And well-reasoned. I think you’ve done a couple of things for the family, as well.” 12

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Ginger nodded, disappointed. He had known who she was the entire time. Her false sense of anonymity disintegrated. “I have. Jackson keeps my firm on retainer, as well, for certain occasions.” She sipped at the coffee. “You should’ve told me you recognized me.” He had the good grace to appear shamed. “Sorry. In my defense, though, this is New York. Well-known people don’t always want to be noticed. I thought you were just another model until I talked to you in the bar.” Ginger could understand his reasoning, so she settled against the cushions. She was used to the stereotype. Tall, slim women were a dime a dozen in the Big Apple. And so were celebrities. “I actually live in Chicago, where my company is based. But I take contracts all across the country. If they can afford me, I go to them.” “So, do you have a job here this week?” She reached up to run her fingers through her hair. “No, I’m here for the wedding of a friend. As a bridesmaid.” She couldn’t keep her lip from curling in disdain. “Actually, we haven’t spoken for several years, and the invitation came as a surprise.” Cameron raised a brow in curiosity. “Why haven’t you spoken?” She stared at the landscape across the room, remembering another night. “Her boyfriend hit on me, hard, and I laid him out. Then he told Amber I’d been chasing him. She chose to believe him, even though we’d been friends much longer than she’d known him.” “Is this the same guy she’s marrying?” “No, thank goodness. That happened several years ago.” She fingered the cup. “Coming to New York served two purposes. One, the wedding and possible reconnection with my friend, and two, the date Madame Eve set up. If the wedding goes as well as the date, it will be a spectacular trip.” She tried to think positively in spite of the trepidation gnawing at her. Cameron leaned forward to set his coffee on the table. “I’m sure the wedding will be fine. Although the bride may not appreciate you outshining her.” She laughed, as he meant her to. “Well, thank you. She’s beautiful, though. It may not be so clear cut.” 13

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When he propped his left arm on the back of the couch, the distance between them suddenly shrank to a few inches. Ginger let her lids fall closed. The urge to sway toward him was almost overwhelming. “There would be no contest in my book.” His quietly spoken words slid through her like sweet wine, making her heart swell. Where had he been all her life? When was the last time somebody had just flat-out supported her, no questions asked? It had been a long time. Unable to help herself, she opened her eyes and let him see the emotion. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. It’s been so long since I’ve had a supporter.” He reached forward, humming low in his throat at her distress, and cupped her cheek in his palm. His thumb swiped the tears away. “I mean it. You’re beautiful. You know that.” She huffed. “Right. All six feet of me. With my big feet and saggy boobs.” His face darkened. “You’re fucking beautiful! And what are you, thirty-three, thirty-four? Believe me, you have a long, long way to go before we have to put a bag over your head when you go outside.” Ginger choked out another laugh, and allowed him to pull her into a gentle hug. She shifted her legs in the opposite direction and leaned into him hard, resting her head beneath his chin. Sadness battered at her emotions, brought on by those damn martinis. She didn’t normally get this maudlin. “I just thought I would be further along with my life by now. You know, attached, maybe thinking about a house and kids. Instead, I’m hiring a dating service to set me up just to have sex.” His chest jerked then expanded beneath her as he took a deep breath. “I think we all planned on things being a little different. Honestly, I thought I would be on the same track. Well,” he paused, “not the sex part. But the wife, house, kids. A bomb in Iraq kind of changed that for me. You just have to roll with what fate gives you.” Ginger burrowed her hand beneath his jacket and smoothed her fingers against his shirt. She stroked the roughness of puckered skin beneath the cloth. Cameron stilled when she touched him, and she made it a point to rub across as if 14

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the difference didn’t matter. But it did bother her. She didn’t want to think of him in pain. The idea made her throat ache with fresh tears. “How long were you in Iraq?” He didn’t say anything right away, and she worried that he wouldn’t. Hell, how could she blame him if he didn’t want to talk about it? Surely it was traumatic enough living with the scars every day. “Two and a half years,” he answered finally. “I was two weeks shy of my tour being up when we hit a roadside bomb. Took out two of my buddies, and I didn’t come around for the better part of a month because of the painkillers. When I did, I wished I’d been killed along with my friends.” Ginger gasped and pulled away enough to search his expression. The determined shine in his eyes and the set of his jaw told her he was serious. “You don’t still feel that way, do you?” She waited for the shake of his head before she allowed herself to relax against him again. The relief that washed over her was staggering. Crazy, but she already cared about him. “No,” he sighed, “I don’t. Not now. When I regained consciousness, found out about my buddies, and got dumped by my fiancée a few days later, I wanted to die. Didn’t think it could get any worse. Then they started weaning me off the medication, and it did get worse. The pain just eclipsed everything.” “How extensive are your injuries?” she asked quietly, still rubbing his chest. Silence stretched out in the quiet suite, and she started to sit up. She’d veered too personal. She shouldn’t have asked. Keep it light. Heavy arms stopped her retreat and pulled her tight against him, as if he needed the contact. His hand cradled her head, and he avoided her gaze. His deep voice rumbled beneath her cheek. “I’m burned over about forty percent of my body. Mostly on my left side. Around my shoulder and down my back. Most of my leg.” Tears pushed at her lids again, and they slid down her cheeks to dampen his shirt. His heart thudded beneath her ear, too fast. It was obvious he worried what her reaction would be. Deliberately, she continued to glide her fingers over his chest, then down his belly and back up. Soothingly. “Do they still hurt?” She felt movement above her. “No. They are still sensitive to strong light, and 15

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perfumed soaps irritate then. But otherwise, they’re fine.” “Good,” she whispered. “What a terrible way to wake up. I think your ex needs a kick in the ass. You don’t leave somebody you love like that, no matter what.” “Mmm, well, I don’t know about the love part. She was six months pregnant with some other guy’s baby when I came home.” Ginger reared up in disbelief, her tears replaced by instant anger. “Are you serious? She got pregnant while you were on tour?” He flinched. “It happens more often than you think. People get lonely.” She had heard similar stories, but certainly nothing so close to her. And people would do a lot to ease their loneliness. “Do you have brothers or sisters?” “I do, one of each, and they were great during my recovery. I moved home and went through rehab there. I’m from Ohio, originally, and my parents had a great VA hospital not too far from their house.” “Well,” she murmured as she lay down again, “at least you had some support.” He curled her to him, naturally. One hand rested on her shoulder, and began making circles, just above the low cut of the silk dress. “What about you? Family?” She hummed in sad amusement. “Well, I have people who are related to me, but family? No. My mother was too worried about finding her next husband to keep track of what her kids were doing. And my father left years ago.” Her fingers stopped moving as she thought about that part of her life. “I have a couple of siblings, but I don’t think they want anything to do with me. I tend to speak my mind when it comes to some of their decisions.” He snorted and gave her a squeeze. “People are pretty fucked up, aren’t they?” “They are,” she agreed. “But why can the two of us see it, and nobody else?” “I don’t know.” He stroked her hair. For a long time, they just held each other, content. “You know I want you to stay tonight,” she told him softly. Tension leapt between them, and the rubbing stopped. Once again, his heart thundered beneath her ear. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ginger. We’re both pretty brittle right now. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t talked about this stuff with anybody before.” 16

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She sat up and faced him. “All the more reason for us to steal tonight for ourselves. It doesn’t have to go anywhere. I don’t expect your undying love. But I would like to feel like I mean something to somebody.” Reaching out, she clutched his hand. “And I think you would, too.”

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Chapter Three Cameron struggled to maintain eye contact. She understood what he wanted without his even saying it. He would give anything to not feel so alone in this beautiful, damn hotel. Vanity held him still, though. When she saw how grotesque he was, standing next to her beauty, she would no doubt run away screaming. He couldn’t risk this tenuous connection for a night of sex. No matter how his dick tried to tell him otherwise. “You’re thinking too hard, Cameron.” When she settled her lips on his, he didn’t struggle as much as he should have. Once he tasted her, there was no way he could leave. Clenching her hair in his fist, he angled his head and delved into her. God, she had the sweetest taste. Cinnamon, apple, and a hint of something more exotic. The boner he had been struggling to control for the past hour hardened between them, and Ginger chuckled against him. His own lips curved, and he teased at her mouth with his tongue. She opened eagerly, slipping one hand beneath his arm to hold herself against him. He used every technique he could remember to build her passion. She shifted against him, rubbing her silk-covered breasts against his suit jacket. Unable to help himself, he pulled away to search her face. “You have to be sure about this. If you want me to leave, you need to tell me now.” She shook her head at him. “There’s no doubt in my mind. I don’t want you to go anywhere. Well,” her eyes twinkled, “maybe to the bedroom.” He lifted them both to their feet, effortlessly. Power surged through his body, and it needed an outlet. Her. Ginger gasped as he tugged her into another kiss, and he took satisfaction in that sound. He was just a plain old country boy, unworthy to even be touching her. Unable to help himself, he let his hands slide down her sides. She had such a 18

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phenomenal shape, in spite of what she said. Her muscles were strong, and she still kept herself in fighting condition. But her hips were flared, feminine. There were tiny little snaps as his rough skin caught on the silk threads, breaking them, but she didn’t seem concerned. She shifted her rib cage, positioning her breast in the path of his returning stroke. Cameron stopped just shy of covering it. He teased the underside with his thumb and deliberately made her wait. Sprinkling kisses across her forehead, he worked his way across her arched brows, touched on her eyelids and down the length of her nose, before pressing his mouth to hers again. She moaned and rubbed her body into his groin. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to feel her. He eased his hand up and covered her breast, kneading. Gasping, she pressed harder into his touch. “More,” she whispered. “Untie me.” Cameron wasted no time, and started searching for a way to get her out of the dress. The halter tied behind her neck, and he fumbled to get the pieces separated. She lifted her hair so he could reach the knot. For a timeless second, he didn’t think his big fingers would be able to manage the task, but the fabric finally released. Ginger stepped back so the dress could fall to the floor. The silk pooled at her feet, before she kicked it away. Cameron thought he was going to have a heart attack when he saw her for the first time. Oxygen became precious as he forgot to breathe. Stunning. Quite simply, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She tossed her mussed hair in one of those habitual, feminine moves designed to make men stare. She wore no bra, which he already knew, but he’d had no idea how perfect her breasts would be. The natural, teardrop shape testified that she had had nothing done to enhance them, and the tips were flushed a hectic, dark tan with arousal. Saggy, my ass. Dragging his eyes away, he followed a pale line of freckles down her belly then to her lace panties, which did nothing to hide the darker auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs. She flexed one knee against his thigh. Without the dress, her legs appeared even longer. He made sure to put his appreciation in his expression as he met her eyes, but the insecurity was there, just beneath the surface. “You’re breathtaking. You 19

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know that.” “I just want to be pretty for you.” She shrugged lightly. Cameron tried not to let her words affect him, but they did. He didn’t want to care for Ginger. She was here for a one-night stand, and he provided a convenient fill in for her fallen-through date. If the other guy had shown up, there was a good chance he would be the one with her now. He clenched his jaw in anger. The idea of some other man with his hands on her disturbed him immensely. Slender fingers reached up to loosen his patterned black tie, and he stared down at her as she did it. Whipping the silk from around his collar, she tossed it over her shoulder with a saucy grin. It landed somewhere beyond the couch. Gliding both hands up his chest to his shoulders, she pushed his suit jacket down his arms and away. Cameron’s breathing sped up as she released the first button of his black shirt. He wrapped his fist around hers and stared at her hard. “I’m not pretty,” he warned. Ginger waited patiently for him to release her, seduction curling her lips. “Good. I don’t want pretty. I want real. Besides, I’m sure I’ve seen worse. ” But her expressive face showed her dismay as she slowly revealed his chest and abdomen. The damage was extensive, even years later. The scarring used to be an angry, brilliant red. Most of the color had faded with time. For the most part, the discomfort had also receded. It still looked painful, though, in spots, and she hovered over those areas as if she wanted to touch but was afraid to. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he told her. “Really. Go ahead.” Her cautious eyes flicked to his then down as her hand glided firmly over his flesh. Her fingers stroked his skin, outlining the damage. Cameron shivered at the first feeling of a hand other than his own on his body. On the scarred part, he couldn’t even tell she touched him unless she pressed. The nerve endings had been burned off. On the less scarred areas, her gentle fingers excited him. As she ran both palms up his body, Cameron realized how starved for contact he had been in the four years since he’d walked out the door of the hospital. She was the first woman to be with him since his injury. Emotion tightened his throat and made his hands shake. Reaching out, he tugged her into his arms for a hug so 20

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she wouldn’t see his gratitude mixed with humbling fear. Ginger didn’t resist. She seemed to understand. She relaxed into him with a sigh. He held her for several long minutes, before pulling away. He had tamped the emotions down and planned on concentrating on her now. With a murmured hold on, he bent and lifted her into his arms. She gasped in his ear, clutching him. “Put me down.” She laughed. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” He snorted and crossed the room easily. She probably didn’t weigh all of a buck thirty. “Quit wiggling.” His gaze dropped to her jiggling breasts, and he leered theatrically. “Or not.” Ginger laughed and let her head rest on his chest. She stopped moving then and just held on. When he dropped her feet to the floor beside the bed, he regretted he didn’t get to carry her further. The woman fit against him just right. Her face burned pink. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I can’t believe you picked me up like that.” Cameron chuckled. “You’re standing naked in front of me, but you’re more concerned because I lifted you?” He covered her lips with his own as she sputtered. All sound stopped for a good while after that, as they teased one another. Cameron learned that she liked to have the inside of her upper lip licked, and for him to tilt her head with his hand to guide her where he wanted her. She seemed to need somebody to take control from her. It became difficult for him to keep them upright with his knees quivering the way they were. He nudged her backward, and when her legs hit the bed, she collapsed gracefully onto the mattress. Every movement she made was beautiful. The soft light from the bedside lamp gilded her pale skin. For a moment, he debated turning the light off just to keep his own disfigurement in the dark, but he wanted to see her more than he wanted to hide himself. The muscles in her lean arms flexed as she positioned herself in the center of the bed. There she stretched them above her head, pulling her breasts high. Even as his excitement made breathing difficult, Cameron paused at the sight. 21

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Her elegant beauty held him enthralled. She crooked a finger at him, and it was all he could do to untangle himself from his pants and kick them to the side. He hesitated at removing his underwear, but the desire burning in her gaze spurred him on. Then, for the first time in four years, he stood completely naked in front of a woman. He watched for any hint of disgust as her eyes dropped to his thigh and leg, but her eyes came back up to rest on his erection. It bobbed with every beat of his heart, and Cameron could feel his desperation building. The damage stretched into his groin, but stopped there. That had been one of the few things to cheer him in the hospital, and he had counted himself exceedingly lucky. If his dick had been taken in the explosion as well, he wouldn’t be standing here now. She held her hand out to him, and he all but jumped into the bed. Their mouths met again, as he aligned his pelvis with hers. They both gasped as skin met skin. She glanced down at his broad chest, and the appreciation in her expression made him glad he’d dragged his sorry ass to the gym all those mornings. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to hold out. It’s been a long time.” Ginger grinned up at him. “It’s been several years for me, too, actually.” He glanced at her in surprise. Shifting to the side, he ran his hand over her baby-soft skin, across her right breast, and down her tummy to tease at the lace of her panties. “Why did you even bother with these? It’s not like they’re hiding anything.” “No,” she sighed, “but they’re pretty. And I didn’t know where the night would end. A girl has to be prepared, you know.” Prepared. Fuck! He closed his eyes and called himself ten kinds of fool. Hell, he hadn’t needed condoms for years. As chief of security, he had a reputation to maintain, and running downstairs for that kind of item could be embarrassing. Cameron rolled away, resting his arm over his eyes. He gulped in air as he struggled to calm his body. “I have no condoms,” he told her, furious with himself. A soft touch traced down his body, skirting the edge of his scarring then wrapped around his cock. She used her thumb to make circles on the underside 22

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of his slit, using his own moisture for lubrication. He could not keep the groan inside. So much better than his own hand. “Well,” she whispered in that throaty, fuck-me voice, “it’s a good thing you’re with a girl who’s prepared.” His head shot up and he stared at her hard. “You have condoms?” “Yep. Bedside table.” Relief poured through him. He rolled up onto his elbow and pressed his lips to hers, more excited than he could remember being in years. Working her mouth, he tried to let her know with his body. She giggled as his chin nuzzled her neck. “Is it too rough?” he asked. “No,” she whispered. “It’s perfect.” Cameron kissed his way to her waist and dragged the taunting panties down her long legs. She tipped her hips, inviting him to explore her more, but he didn’t want to give in to her that easily. Wandering down her thigh, he took a few extra seconds to cool off as he nibbled. He moved to the other leg and started the return trip, pressing kisses every few inches. Her skin smelled of sun and peaches, and he had to stop to just breathe against her a couple of times. She squirmed as he got closer to the damp curls at the juncture of her thighs. He used one finger to part her lips and slip inside, making her moan. Gliding in her moisture, he was humbled at the proof that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He explored her outer folds, twirling in her hair and squeezing with his finger. Ginger moaned and shifted beneath him, crying out when he bumped her clit. He needed to hear that sound again, so he set up a gentle rhythm. Sweeping low, he teased at her vagina then swept up to circle around her pleasure point. Within seconds, her panting voice begged him to slow down. “You don’t want me to do that. You want me to push you further.” He angled his hand and buried his middle finger deep within her, then ground the heel of his hand against her clit. He wrapped his lips around the tip of her breast, sucking strongly. Ginger shattered and screamed out her release, bucking beneath his hand. He gentled his touch but continued to press her, wringing every spasm out of her he could. He reached to the opposite side of the bed and dragged open the bedside 23

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table drawer. The cardboard box wouldn’t open for his fumbling fingers. Frustrated, he ripped the damn thing in half, scattering foil packages through the drawer. He tore one open and sheathed himself, before he settled on top of her. The touch of her slick heat against his dick almost set him off, but he waited until her eyes snapped to his. “Are you ready?” She nodded, and he glided into her. The magazine Ginger had nothing on the actual woman, and he fought not to come. He stilled as much as he could, but couldn’t control the quivering. He panted into the pillow and fought to think of other things. She didn’t help when she lifted her knees to his sides, urging him to move. He let himself go slowly, until he could maintain some control. Her nails scored his ass, and he kissed her, hard. She moaned into his mouth and torqued her groin up into his. Determined not to come before she did again, he pulled out and began teasing the sensitive entrance to her body with just the head of his cock. Occasionally he would slide up beside her clit, making her jerk. Ginger groaned against his throat, and her body twitched to the side convulsively. He slowed his body even more, fighting not to give in to her contagious enthusiasm. Between one stroke and the next, she screamed out her second release. Cameron plunged inside her and allowed himself to feel. And come. He didn’t even have to move. The rippling contractions from her climax pushed him over the edge. He lost track of the seconds as they fed on each other’s desperation. At one point he yelled out. His brain went to mush, and his bones felt like they liquefied. He planted his elbows and fought not to crush her as his body played out the movements it needed to. The pleasure rolled over him in wave after wave. Ginger let her legs come down off his sides, and he reluctantly gathered his energy to get up. But she clutched him to her. “Not just yet. Please.” He really didn’t have the motivation anyway. She was too comfortable to lie upon. All of his angles fit into her curves, as if they were two halves of one whole. She was a little small, maybe, but still wonderful. He kissed the delicate curve of her ear. She sighed and cranked her head enough to press her lips on his cheek. “I can’t 24

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tell you how glad I am that my date didn’t show up.” Cameron chuckled and rolled himself to the side. “Me, too. Might have been a little crowded in here.” He stretched, bones popping, and pushed himself to his feet. He walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned, Ginger was stretched on top of the bright white comforter, lips curved in satisfaction. Her bright lipstick had disappeared. Moisture glistened on her pale thighs, and Cameron’s mouth watered at the thought of teasing her with his tongue. Yeah. Good thing the date hadn’t shown up.

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Chapter Four Ginger rolled her head to peek at Cameron beside her. He snored lightly, his heavy features relaxed in sleep. She let her gaze wander down his body. They had finally crawled under the covers, but only after he had gone down on her and shattered her world once again. Now, wrapped in the white sheet, he had one hand curled over hers. Her mind was too busy to sleep. Her body hummed with the lassitude only extreme satisfaction can bring, but doubts nibbled at her. The emotion he stirred in her seemed like more than just a one-night stand. And it scared her. The distance she needed between them had disappeared. When she emailed Madame to set her up, she had expected some cool, metropolitan guy who didn’t expect anything more than a night of fun. Cameron brought issues and baggage. He also solved issues. The normal insecurities she experienced with other men because of her size were nonexistent with him. He told her she was beautiful, and she believed him. The proof was in the adoring way he looked at her. And reacted to her. Considering his history, her worries seemed petty and inconsequential. He didn’t make her feel that way, though. In his eyes, she was his equal. And worthwhile. Ginger curled on her side and snuggled into him. If they only had one night, she planned to relish it. Her tired body tingled as she imagined teasing him awake in the morning. Actually, the next morning, she was roused by a heavy cock pressing into her folds from behind. They were in a spoon position and her head rested on Cameron’s bicep. His forearm curled across her chest to tease at a turgid nipple. She hiked her right leg over his thigh, and one finger of his other hand tickled the hair at her mons. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to wake up this way every day. Ginger moaned and arched into his hardness. He must have been teasing her 26

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for a while, because he was gliding easily in her moisture. Or maybe it was just from her erotic dreams. They had haunted her all night, interspersing real snapshots from the night before with imagined. Reality was definitely better. As Cameron deepened his penetrations, the ball of heat low in her belly began to build. She pressed back even harder, and clutched his ass to her with one hand. Oh God, oh God. Yesss…. He pinched her nipple and nibbled below her ear. Chill bumps danced over her skin as he shoved the blankets away and flipped her to her belly. Ginger gasped into the pillow then flung it aside as he plowed into her, rocking her against the bed. She stretched one hand out and braced it against the heavy headboard then pushed into him even harder. Cameron moaned against her shoulder and propped her pelvis up with one hand. It totally changed the angle, hitting her G-spot exactly as she needed. Completion danced just a few seconds away. Burying her hand beneath their thrashing bodies, she flicked her middle finger against her clit, nudging herself toward that burning heat. The orgasm slammed into her like a Mack truck, flinging her into pleasure so intense spots danced in front of her eyes. Ginger buried her face into the mattress to muffle her screams, and fluid ran down her legs with her sudden ejaculation. Her muscles contracted with pleasure. Cameron lost his rhythm and stalled out above her, yelling out with his own climax. The sporadic movements of his body triggered corresponding pleasure in hers. She heard him gasp and her vision went dark. A hand on her shoulder roused her a few seconds later. They lay on their sides again, facing each other. Ginger’s heart continued to thud fiercely and cold sweat filmed her skin. Her cunt twitched occasionally with aftershocks. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come that hard. Hell, she’d passed out. She rolled her head and met Cameron’s eyes. He panted, too, but he shook his head at her, as if unable to believe what had happened. He grinned at her, unreserved. “Fuck-ing awesome! I’ve never made a woman gush like that.” Her face heated with embarrassment, and she rolled her head toward the bathroom door. The damp sheet beneath her was cool. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I 27

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probably should have warned you.” Gentle fingers moved up and down her arm. “Don’t apologize,” he told her quickly. “I’m flattered, actually. I mean, the sex was already phenomenal, but to know I got you off like that is, well, it’s just something. You know?” If he hadn’t been with anybody for years, as he said, then her response probably would be special. She threw him an appreciative smile over her shoulder. “I know. And thank you. It was incredible. I haven’t been this relaxed in years.” She shifted and frowned down at the bed. “I kind of need to get up, though.” Cameron rolled away immediately, and she levered herself to her feet, revealing a spot the size of hand towel on her side of the bed. Her face heated again as she glanced up into Cameron’s eyes. He grinned at her wickedly. “We’d better leave the maid a very nice tip.” She laughed and her embarrassment washed away. They padded into the bathroom and slipped into the shower together. Cameron moved her to face the rear wall so he could lather her hair then gave her a massage that made her groan out loud. Ginger forced her legs to stand firm as he found tender muscles in her arms and spine with firm, kneading fingers. “That feels so good.” After a few minutes, she returned the favor. Gliding over the scar tissue, she carefully kneaded the muscles up his strong back. Their time together was nearing an end, and it saddened her. She had been prepared for a one nightstand. Just sex. Something to get her out of her rut. She hadn’t expected to find a man she genuinely liked, and wanted to spend more time with—who lived five hundred miles away. She soaped her hands and slid them up the nape of his neck, squeezing tight then releasing. He rested his head against the shower wall. It was thrilling to be able to touch and explore him after making love. No man had ever let her before. Emotion clogged her throat as she ran her hands over his body. This closeness and belonging was what she wanted in real life. Not some quick, anonymous sex. Something meaningful, where they both got more than what they hoped for. Where each fulfilled needs the other didn’t even know they had. Ginger hoped the streaming water washed away the tracks of her tears. 28

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She forced herself away from him to clean her own body. Cameron glanced at her face, seemed to understand that she needed a few minutes, and stepped out of the stall. He patted himself down with the towel and after a last lingering look, disappeared into the bedroom. Her throat tightened with emotion again at his sensitivity. Maybe she could ring him up next time she came to New York. The thought made her sex tighten in expectation. Ginger secured the towel around her tender breasts and tucked the end, then stepped out of the bathroom in search of her dress and panties. Morning sun lightened the sheers on the bedroom window. Cameron stood on the opposite side of the bed, towel hung crookedly around his waist. He had his phone in hand, a bemused expression on his face. “What?” She laughed. Cameron stepped around the bed to stand in front of her. “I sent Jackson a text, saying his friend Madame Eve had struck out with the dating service. Told him about you being stood up. He sends me this response.” He held the phone out to her. She read, Madame said you would be contacting me, and to tell you that the evening went exactly as she planned. Ginger read the words several times. Her analytical mind kicked in. “She planned on me being stood up? Or was there no date at all? Was this some elaborate hoax?” Angry tears filled her eyes when Cameron shrugged. Agitated, she crossed to her own phone and pulled up her email. A chill went through her as she found a message from 1NightStand, received at midnight. Ginger, do not be mad at a sentimental woman. When you emailed me with your request, I knew exactly who to match you with. Cameron has tugged at my heart for years, yet never took advantage of what I could do for him. No, I didn’t set you up with a date. There was no date. I’m sorry. As much as you protested against it, you do have a certain type that appeals to you. The strong, masculine hero. Cameron’s type. And to get him out of the shell he’s been in, he needed to rescue you. 29

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Enjoy each other for the day. Tell Cameron he is not to work until tomorrow, when you check out. I’ve arranged it with his boss. Tapping a button, she shook her head. “No date. When I was ‘stood up’, she expected you to come to my rescue.” He barked out a laugh. “That damn wily,” he sputtered, searching for a word, “Frenchwoman.” He sank down on the edge of the bed. The skin around his eyes creased with laughter. “What else did she say?” Setting the phone on the table, she sank down beside him. She hedged the truth. “She says you’ve always tugged at her heart, and she thought we would be a good match.” She didn’t mention his “shell”. “And though I protested against it, I needed a hero to rescue me for the night. Which, as much as I hate to admit it, was correct. She also says that you’re off work until tomorrow.” For a moment, his eyes widened in surprise. Then they began to heat up as they took in her towel-wrapped form. “’Til tomorrow, huh? Just what will I do until then?” Ginger grinned at the sly look in his eyes. Anticipation tightened her tummy. “I don’t know. Wanna go have sex in the elevator?” Cameron wiggled his brows lasciviously and pulled her down to his lap. “Nah. I think we better stay right here, where security won’t kick us out.” Ginger giggled and covered his mouth with her own.

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~About the Author~

Terminally addicted to romances, thanks to finding her aunt’s stash of ‘Harlequin Presents’ years ago during a sleepover, J.M. Madden loves any and all good love stories. Most particularly her own. She has two beautiful children and a husband who always keeps her on her toes. J.M. was a Deputy Sheriff in Ohio for nine years, until hubby moved the clan to Kentucky. When not chasing the family around, she’s at the computer, reading and writing, trying to perfect her craft. She occasionally takes breaks to feed her animal horde, and is trying to control her officesupply addiction, but both tasks are uphill battles. Happily, she is unemployed right now, so it’s given her a chance to seriously jump into writing full-time. She has several projects in the works and loves to hear from readers.

Visit J.M. online at: www.jmmadden.com