Too Wilde to Tame

Chapter Two

UP on the dance floor, Mia continued to work the crowd with a shimmy and a shake, but her gaze remained locked on Cameron, who was currently pushing his way through the throng of unruly patrons and toward the stage. His normally sensual lips were stretched into a grim line, and his green eyes blazed with a simmering anger. That very fine body of his was wired with determination and an underlying impatience that didn't bode well for her.

And still, none of those negative vibes he was giving off detracted from just how devastatingly gorgeous the man was. And sexy. And so incredibly hot. Cameron Sinclair was all male, from his thick tousled dark blonde hair, to those wide shoulders of his, to his lean hips and strong-looking thighs… and certainly everything in between.

And she'd wanted him for a very long time.

Unfortunately, Cameron Sinclair had remained elusive to her. He'd presented quite a challenge over the years and most especially lately, but that's exactly what she liked about him and what attracted her so strongly.

He was so far removed from all the other guys she'd dated, most of whom she'd easily managed to wrap around her finger in no time flat. And once that happened, the thrill of the chase always diminished, her interest in them waned, and she'd end the brief affair. It was a cycle she was well familiar with and one she used to protect her heart and emotions.

But Cam wasn't one to bend to her will. At least not without a whole lot of provocation-like her impulsive decision to enter the wet T-shirt contest, all as a harmless, fun ploy to make Cameron squirm. Except tonight, it appeared she'd finally managed to crack that staunch control of his. And she couldn't wait to see how this situation between them played out.

As he neared the steps to the dance floor, his darkened gaze shifted back to her. A rush of adrenaline shot through her veins, and a heady mixture of awareness and delicious anticipation curled low in her belly. Going with the wicked urge to ruffle his feathers just a bit more, she lifted her hands to her hair and made sure he was watching as she slowly wet her bottom lip with her tongue and rolled her hips in a sinuous dance move that was as seductive as it was suggestive.

There was no mistaking the desire that flared to life in his striking eyes, and she reveled in that small victory. Cam might have spent months skirting the electric chemistry between them, but she'd seen enough proof lately to confirm that he was far from immune to her and their attraction.

Now it was just a matter of finally doing something about all that potent sexual tension that had them both so on edge around one another.

Reaching the dance floor, he crossed the stage to her, ignoring the way the other participants tried to entice him into joining them in the wet T-shirt contest. His gaze never wavered from Mia's, except to briefly skim over the front of her damp top in a heated caress. In response, her nipples tightened into tingling, sensitive points against her lacy bra. It amazed her how Cameron didn't even have to physically touch her to coax a sensual reaction out of her body. He was the only man she'd ever known who possessed that impressive talent.

He halted directly in front of her so the customers in the bar no longer had a clear view of her or their exchange. "Show's over, sweetheart," he announced, his direct, blunt approach leaving no room for argument.

She stopped dancing, amused by this macho, take-charge side to Cameron. Normally all she saw was the uptight and gruff attitude, and while she supposed that curt tone intimidated some people, she took it as an invitation to be just as daring.

"Says who?" she challenged.

"Me." With that, he grasped her wrist, started down the stairs, and tugged her along behind him-amidst whoops and ribald remarks from the male patrons cheering him on.

Unwilling to be a passive female to his caveman routine, she pulled back and finagled her arm from his grasp. "I'm not ready to leave yet." She turned and headed down the corridor leading to the restrooms.

Behind her, she heard him curse at her defiant maneuver and she bit back a smile. She so loved getting the best of Cameron whenever the opportunity presented itself, especially because it didn't happen often.

Halfway down the hallway, he caught up to her. In a quick, lithe move, he had her back pressed up against the wall with his strong, muscular arms braced on either side of her shoulders so this time she couldn't escape him-at least not easily. Raw frustration etched his expression as he stared down at her, his entire body taut as he tried to keep a firm rein on the temper she knew was simmering right below the surface.

"Dammit, Mia," he said through gritted teeth. "You've obviously had too much to drink and you're not thinking straight. I'm not about to leave you here in your condition. Your brothers would be furious with me if I didn't at least be sure you got home safely."

Ahhh, now she understood where all his high-handedness was coming from. He obviously believed she was intoxicated, and for some ridiculous reason he was driven to save her from herself. Well, she wasn't impressed with his chivalry. In fact, his do-good deed only chafed at her more rebellious side and made her want to buck this charitable gesture of his.

Anger nipped at her own emotions, and she inhaled a deep, calming breath. God, why was it that every man in her life thought it was his duty to keep her safe and sheltered and protected like a weak female? They treated her as though she couldn't take care of herself on her own. Especially her brothers and cousins, and now, it seemed Cameron had also developed the urge to join the ranks by assuming the worst of her condition and making sure she had a chaperone home.

His grand and honorable intention was the very last thing she wanted from him.

She ought to set him straight and tell him she was far from drunk-not even close after two lightweight pina ladas that contained more fruit juice than alcohol-but what was the fun in that, she decided. However, on a brighter, more appealing note, if stuffy, uptight Cameron Sinclair continued to believe she was tipsy, she might be able to get away with all sorts of outrageous and wicked mischief.

And that was certainly her idea of fun.

That thought improved her mood immensely, because she'd love nothing more than putting one over on this man. If he had the inclination to rescue what he perceived as a damsel in distress, who was she to argue? She'd give him exactly that-a helpless woman in need of saving-until she decided it was time to end the farce and prove to him that she'd been completely lucid the entire time.

The look on his face when he realized the joke was on him was bound to be priceless and worth a good laugh.

With that in mind, she let her body relax and glanced up at him from beneath heavy-lidded lashes. "My mind is functioning just fine, sugar," she refuted in a slow, convincing drawl with the slightest bit of a slur. "See what I mean about you not being able to handle fun?"

The frown creasing his brows deepened into a scowl. "Watching you parade half-naked in a bar full of randy men isn't exactly my idea of fun."

Hmmm, such censure in his tone. That was the thing about Cameron-despite being attracted to her, she knew he disapproved of the way she lived her life, along with her assertive and uninhibited personality. Now, she decided being drunk gave her even more license to be brazen, to touch him without guilt, to enjoy their attraction and find out exactly what kind of temptation Cameron couldn't resist.

She tipped her head, letting her disheveled hair fall around her face, and stared in fascination at his mouth, which had been the source of many of her late-night fantasies. She wondered what it would take to see those lips smile at her in one of those slow, sexy grins she knew he was capable of. She wondered how his seductive mouth would feel pressed against her own in a deep, hot kiss, or skimming along her neck, her breasts…

She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight, and gave into the urge to place her hands on his chest. She'd thought a lot about his incredibly honed body and what it looked like naked. She figured this was probably the closest she'd ever get to finding out-by feel.

As soon as she touched him, his muscles flexed beneath her palms and his breathing hitched. She felt the heat of him through his shirt, along with the way his heartbeat accelerated.

She held back a secret female smile. Oh, he was far, far from immune to her. Just as she was certain he'd been far from indifferent to her dancing up on that stage a while ago.

She decided to call him on it.

"Awww, come on, sugar," she said in a breathy voice as her fingers brushed over his nipples, which were as hard as her own. "Watching me in that wet T-shirt didn't turn you on, not even a little bit?"

"Nope." He sounded very sure of himself.

She didn't believe his adamant denial. Not for a second. "You're such a liar, Cameron," she said and set out to prove it. With her gaze holding his, she skimmed a hand down his torso, past the waistband of his jeans and lower… until she held the most masculine part of him in her hand. He released a hiss of breath, and satisfaction curled through her when she found him already aroused, the firm length of him impressive in size.

He was definitely more than a handful. Desire curled low and deep in her belly at the heady thought of that aggressive male flesh filling her in all the different ways she'd imagined and fantasized about over the past few months.

Satisfied with the evidence she'd discovered, she let a sultry smile emerge. "Unless this is a very thick sock stuffed in your pants, I'd have to say you are a little bit turned on."

A strangled sound erupted from his throat, and he yanked her hand away, as if her touch had the ability to burn. His fingers circled her wrist, and his thumb pressed against the rapid pulse beating there. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you into big trouble one day, sweetheart."

"Promises, promises," she taunted softly, which earned her a warning look from him that did nothing to quell her shameless approach. "Actually, it's nice to see I can get a rise out of you after all."

The double entendre wasn't lost on him, and for a moment it looked as though he was going to say something in response to her comment. Then he shook his head as if to clear it, causing the dim lights in the hall to cast intriguing golden highlights through his soft-looking strands of hair.

"Give me your car keys."

She blinked at him, thrown by his abrupt request. "I didn't drive. I came with Carrie."

"Even better." He ignored the two young college girls who turned down the hallway, whispering and giggling as they passed them on their way to the women's room. "Where's your purse?"

"I didn't bring one." She had her money, apartment key, and lipstick in the small pouch clipped to the waistband of her skirt.

"Good. One less thing to worry about." He tightened his grip on her arm. "Let's go," he said and started back down the corridor toward the bar area, with her in tow.

The wet T-shirt contest was over, but the place seemed even more packed than before and twice as rowdy. The music was loud, and Mia actually had a difficult time keeping up with Cameron as he made his way through the crowd. He stopped at the table her roommate, Gina, had claimed earlier, and Carrie was there, sitting alone and nursing a drink.

"Mia won't be needing a ride back to her place," Cameron said to her. "I'll be sure she gets home safely."

Carrie shrugged indifferently as she swirled her straw through her drink. "Okay."

Mia wasn't in the habit of leaving nightclubs with strangers, and she felt compelled to explain who Cameron was so Carrie didn't think she was about to indulge in a one-night stand with someone she didn't know.

Keeping up the pretense of being intoxicated, she leaned into Cameron and patted him on the, chest in a placating way. "He's a friend of the family and seems to have this need to play my white knight tonight." She rolled her eyes at that notion.

Carrie's stare was distant, her demeanor standoffish. "Lucky you."

The sarcasm lacing Carrie's tone took Mia off guard. Her friend had been acting oddly toward her all evening, but before Mia could ask Carrie what was wrong, Cameron was pulling her along again, seemingly eager to get out of the place. With his fingers still locked around her wrist, she had no choice but to follow as he wended his way through the mass of people filling the establishment.

"Mia!"

Hearing someone shout her name, she craned her neck around and saw Gina trying to make her way toward them, a worried look on her face. No doubt her roommate was wondering where she was going… and with whom.

"I'm fine, promise." She mouthed the words to Gina because she knew her voice wouldn't reach her over the loud music and gave her an "okay" sign, but her friend seemed insistent on reaching her… until her boyfriend, Ray, grabbed her arm and jerked her back.

The physical command was rough enough to make Gina wince in pain. Ray said something to her friend, his expression harsh, and Gina seemed to shrink back from him.

Mia had come to the conclusion very quickly that Ray was extremely dominating and possessive when it came to Gina, which contradicted Ray's own roving eye and womanizing ways. But the few times Mia had tried to talk to Gina about Ray and how he treated her, her friend promptly dismissed her concerns and assured her she was just fine. Mia was left with no choice but to believe her friend knew what was best and could take care of herself.

What Mia didn't have the heart to tell Gina was the fact that Ray had even made a major move on her. She'd immediately made it very clear to Ray she wouldn't tolerate his hands-on approach or his licentious behavior. He'd instantly backed off, insisting it was all a joke, but she hadn't even been slightly amused by the lustful look in his eyes as he'd raked her body over with his gaze.

The entire incident had left a bad taste in her mouth when it came to Ray. She didn't like the man, or trust him-around herself or Gina. But her roommate wasn't willing to hear the truth about her boyfriend and made excuses for his conduct, so Mia knew there was nothing much she could do. Ultimately, it was up to Gina to face the truth and realize what a jerk Ray truly was.

Mia just hoped Gina didn't get hurt in the meantime-emotionally or physically.

Because she was paying more attention to Gina than to where she was going and was just blindly following Cameron's pull on her arm, Mia bumped hard into someone, who turned and glared at her for not watching where she was going. The impact made Mia lose her balance, and she wobbled on her heels to keep from ending up sprawled on the floor. Cameron, obviously realizing what had happened, came to an abrupt stop, and Mia collided into his hard, unyielding body and then bounced right off-sending her stumbling all over again.

She was beginning to feel like one of those steel balls in a pinball game, ricocheting from one obstacle to another. A bit dazed from the jostling, she swayed dizzily into Cameron, and luckily he caught her in his arms. She clung to him like the helpless female he was under the impression she was tonight.

He frowned down at her, and the muscle that ticked in his cheek was a good indication his tolerance level with her was quickly evaporating. "Since you don't seem capable of walking out of here on your own without making a scene, I guess I'm going to have to take over from here."

Before she realized his intent, he bent low and hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Shock rendered her momentarily speechless as he locked an arm around her thighs and made his way toward the exit. She was grateful he had the good sense to hold down the hem of her short skirt, or else she would have been mooning the crowd.

Any other time she would have protested, loudly, to his arrogant, sexist display, but considering her decision to have fun at Cameron's expense, she just settled in for the free ride, which included an outstanding view of his backside.

Cameron passed the bouncers at the front entrance with a quick explanation of the situation. They were obviously thankful for his interference so they didn't have to deal with an intoxicated customer themselves.

As he crossed through the parking lot, she took advantage of her position and admired Cameron's very attractive assets. With bold, shameless daring, she caressed her hands over his firm buttocks, gave them an affectionate squeeze, and sighed in adoration.

"Ummm, you have a really nice ass, sugar," she drawled.

His fingers tightened on her bare thigh, making her very aware of just how intimate his touch was on her body. "Knock off the touchy-feely stuff before I smack yours," he growled as he unlocked the passenger door of his car with his free hand.

"Ooohh," she cooed breathlessly. "Don't tell me you're into kinky stuff like spanking. Because I've been a very, very naughty girl…"

With a sudden, jarring jolt, she found herself back on her feet again and staring into the heated depths of his gaze. "I'm not going to touch that one," he said, though he definitely looked tempted. Instead, he opened the door to his metallic blue Porsche Boxster and motioned for her to get inside. "Get in the car."

Without argument, she slid into the low-slung vehicle and was instantly enveloped in the soft, luxurious leather seat. Cameron quickly and efficiently buckled her in, keeping any contact with her to a minimum, and then headed around to the driver's side.

When he was settled behind the wheel and the key was in the ignition, he cast her a speculative glance tinged with wry humor. "I'm beginning to think you ought to drink more often."

Amused by his comment and curious to hear his reasoning, she rested her head against the back of her seat and lifted a lazy brow his way. "And why's that?"

"Because it actually makes you more agreeable and manageable than I've ever seen you before." For the first time that night he actually smiled, and it was such an amazing and sexy sight to witness. "Normally, you would have fought me the entire way out of the bar."

Manageable. She nearly laughed at that description, because it was a word she would never associate with her personality. Being meek and mild wasn't a part of her nature-intoxicated or not-but she'd let him think that for now because he seemed to be enjoying her more docile side. He'd discover soon enough that it was all an act.

And just so he didn't think she was becoming completely complacent, she decided to throw a major wrench in his plans. "So… what makes you think I'm going to stay at home once you drop me off?"

He was silent for a moment as he contemplated the possibility. "You've got a point," he finally conceded. "I'm not willing to take that chance, so you can crash at my place tonight, where I can keep an eye on you."

Seemingly satisfied with the way he'd solved that particular problem, he turned the key in the ignition. The high-dollar sports car came to life with a low, rumbling purr that sent delicious vibrations rippling along Mia's spine.

Closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh and thought about the intriguing opportunity that had just presented itself-not to mention all the provocative, seductive ways this night might end.

For months they'd evaded the lust and desire building between them, and she was beyond ready to let their escalating attraction take its natural course. Even if that meant being the one to lead Cameron down the path to temptation.

She smiled to herself as Cameron navigated the Porsche toward his place. Oh, yeah, the real fun was just about to begin.

TWENTY minutes later, Cameron pulled into the driveway leading to his house, which was located at the end of a cul-de-sac in a well-kept neighborhood just outside Chicago. He pressed the remote for the garage door, and once it rolled opened, he parked his Porsche inside and cut the engine.

He glanced over at Mia, who'd remained uncharacteristically quiet on the drive over. There could be only one reason for that, because it wasn't often that Mia was silent by choice: she must have given in to drunken exhaustion and had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even, and she looked very relaxed against the soft leather seat, though he could only imagine how uncomfortable and cold she must be in the damp T-shirt she was still wearing.

It was so odd seeing Mia this way-so calm and compliant. He was still amazed she hadn't put up a fight when he'd carried her out of The Electric Blue, which was so unlike her. He was used to dealing with a feisty, impetuous woman-like when she'd pressed her hand against his cock in the bar's back hallway.

He swallowed back a groan. Just remembering how she'd brazenly stroked and squeezed his shaft through the tight denim confining his erection made him hard all over again. Such a predictable and unwelcome response when it came to Mia, yet he couldn't stop wanting her, no matter how hard he tried. There was no blocking the lust that kicked up his adrenaline whenever she was near. No shutting out the recurring fantasy he had of burying himself deep inside her soft, lush body and hearing his name on her lips when she came.

He shook his head hard to dispel that erotic image. God, this woman was going to be the death of him, he was certain. No doubt he was going to expire from the excruciating, all-consuming sexual tension driving him slowly insane.

She stirred against the seat and then her lashes slowly drifted open, revealing her smoky gray eyes that looked soft and dreamy. "Hi," she said, a slight rasp to her voice.

"Hi, yourself." He searched her face, wondering if she was still feeling tipsy, or worse, woozy from the drive. "Are you doing okay?"

A slight, knowing smile hitched up the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to get sick all over your fancy car if that's what you're worried about."

She obviously knew him better than he would have given her credit for. "I'll admit, the thought did cross my mind."

"My stomach is fine." She shivered delicately and rubbed her bare arms with her hands. "I'm just a little cold from this wet top."

Yes, definitely cold, he agreed, and dragged his gaze away from her full breasts and the twin points pressing so enticingly against her shirt. "I'll give you something warm and dry to sleep in. Can you make it into the house on your own?"

She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, suddenly looking distressed. "I don't know. I'm feeling so… light-headed," she murmured and then cast him a forlorn glance. "But if I have a big, strong man like you to lean on, I could probably manage."

He couldn't tell if she was exaggerating or not, but he wasn't about to take any chances. So he got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and helped her out. With one of his arms tucked around her back and her arm draped over his shoulder, he navigated the way into the house and down the hallway with her swaying on her high-heeled shoes by his side.

He still couldn't believe she'd entered that wet T-shirt contest and spoke without really thinking. "If your brothers had any idea what you've been up to tonight…" As soon as he felt her stiffen beside him, he let the rest of his comment trail off, sensing he'd hit some kind of nerve.

"They'd what?" she demanded.

Oh, yeah, he'd definitely broached a sensitive subject with her. The defensive note to her voice was unmistakable, and as he turned the corner and escorted her into the guest bedroom, he chose his words carefully. "They certainly wouldn't have applauded your efforts during the wet T-shirt contest, and I'm sure they would have limited your alcohol intake."

Abruptly, she pushed away from him, surprisingly steady on her feet. Standing beside the bed, she braced her hands on her hips. "Between my brothers and cousins, and now you, you'd think I'm some kind of helpless female in need of constant protection."

"Your actions tonight, not to mention your drinking, was pretty damn irresponsible. If I hadn't been there, who knows what might have happened." He sliced a hand in the air between them. "Don't you think those guys out in the crowd wouldn't have tried taking advantage of you and what you were offering up on that stage? Mix in the fact that your inhibitions are dulled from alcohol-"

She cut off his statement with a sound of disgust. "I am so not drunk."

He snorted in disbelief. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Watch closely, sugar." To prove her point, she stood on one high-heeled shoe, closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and touched the tip of her nose with her finger without so much as a waver-a difficult feat for most people with all their wits about them.

Once that was done, she straightened and met his gaze, silent laughter glimmering in the depth of her eyes. "See? I had one and a half drinks. And they were pina coladas at that. It's not like I consumed hard liquor cocktails. I wasn't the slightest bit tipsy at any point tonight."

The truth was like a slap in the face. Cameron stared at her, stunned that she'd deliberately duped him. Then again, it was so like Mia to scam him and enjoy every moment of it. No wonder she'd been so damn obliging.

What he didn't understand, though, was her reasoning behind this elaborate ruse she'd concocted. "Then what's with this act of yours?"

Her chin lifted a fraction, showing a hint of her stubborn personality. "You automatically believed the worst, so I figured why not give you exactly what you expected?"

He clamped his jaw tight. She'd got him there. He had assumed the worst about her condition right from the beginning, but what was he supposed to think when she'd deliberately given him that impression?

He narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing her more closely. "So you entered that contest sober?"

"Yep." She crossed her arms over her chest, which plumped the upper swells of her breasts and added to her already eyecatching cleavage. "If you want the truth, I entered that wet T-shirt contest because I wanted to see you squirm a little bit."

He lifted a brow in a challenging manner. "What makes you think that would make me uncomfortable?"

"I'm not talking about uncomfortable, as in making you embarrassed," she said sweetly, which contradicted the sinful, taunting light in her eyes. "I'm talking about making you restless, as in hot and hard. And we already proved back at The Electric Blue that I have that effect on you."

His entire body tightened at the recollection, and renewed awareness sliced through him, sharp and intense. He struggled to keep a tight rein on his desire and knew it was tenuous at best. "Give it up, Mia. We're so not going there." Because to do so would undoubtedly lead them down a path of no return this time around.

"Why not?" She shook her hair away from her face and strolled toward him, hips swaying gracefully, seductively. "Do I intimidate you? Or perhaps I'm too much for you to handle?"

She was back to doing what she did best-goading him. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, refusing to rise to her bait.

Stopping in front of him, mere inches away, she slid her hands up along his shoulders and around his neck, searing him with the exquisite feel of her breasts brushing against his chest. "Or maybe, just maybe, you're afraid of letting go, losing that precious control of yours, and liking it?"

She'd just pegged his deepest fears when it came to her, that a sober, clear-headed Mia was much more dangerous to his body and senses than an inebriated one. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew the risks she was taking, and was ready and willing to accept the consequences of her direct and calculated actions. Cameron suddenly realized he was in big, big trouble.

It was a potent combination he was hard-pressed to resist.

"Come on, sugar," she whispered against the corner of his mouth, teasing him with the promise of everything he'd denied himself for much too long. "I know you have it in you, and I know you want me as much as I want you." She nipped at his bottom lip and then soothed the slight sting with the soft caress of her tongue. "Maybe it's time we did something about this attraction of ours…"

His entire body shuddered, and a little voice in his head urged him to go for it, to take full advantage of what she was offering so freely and get her out of his mind, his constant thoughts, and nightly fantasies.

Finally bedding her would strip away the mysterious allure she presented, get her out of his system, and end this insanity that threatened to consume him. And that thought held a whole lot of appeal since this woman had been tying him up in knots for months now.

"Yeah, maybe we should," he agreed gruffly and then took her mouth with his before his good common sense had the chance to talk him out of what they were about to do.