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.

Chapter Three

ONE minute Cameron was contemplating having sex with Mia, and the next he had her pushed up against the nearest wall with his mouth on hers like a man starved for the taste of her. And that's exactly how he felt… ravenous, greedy, demanding.

There was nothing gentle or sweet about this first, long overdue kiss, or the way the deep stroke of their tongues dueled for supremacy. She clenched her fingers in his hair and returned the sensual assault with abandon and equal hunger-not that he'd expect anything less from this woman who'd worn a shirt proclaiming she was too wild to tame.

Her heady, feminine scent seemed to be everywhere and infused every breath he managed to inhale. He could feel her breasts, warm and yielding, against his chest, and he had the overwhelming urge to touch her everywhere at once, to drown every one of his five senses with her essence and sensuality.

Keeping his mouth on hers, he slid his hands around to her ass and pulled her closer, fitting the hard ridge of his cock between her thighs. The soft, needy sound she made in the back of her throat, combined with the provocative way she rolled her hips against his, had his blood roaring in his ears and pure, unadulterated lust surging through his body.

That easily, she'd pushed him to this madness. And now that he'd let go, he'd lost the ability to slow down or stop. He couldn't stop, not even if his life depended on it. And at the moment, his life depended on kissing her, touching her, and feeling her hot and wet around him.

But Mia seemed to have other ideas, and true to her nature she took charge, becoming the aggressor. Breaking their kiss, she skimmed his shirt up and over his head, tossed it to the floor, and then pushed him toward the bed. He fell back onto the mattress, and she gave him only a handful of seconds to move upward before she crawled on top of him, hiked up the hem of her leopard print mini-skirt, and straddled his waist like the pagan she was. She stripped off her own damp top, leaving her clad in a see-through lace bra that was sexy as hell.

His fierce erection was nestled against her bottom, and he groaned when she leaned over him, braced her hands on either side of his head, and rocked sinuously against his thick, aching shaft. An inviting, wholly female smile played at the corners of mouth, and she closed her eyes, tossed her head back, and moaned her own enjoyment as she arched into him all over again.

Watching Mia in the throes of pleasure was an incredibly arousing sight, but Cameron wasn't about to let her be the only dominant one in this sexual encounter-as she no doubt expected to be. Reaching up, he dragged her bra straps down her arms and peeled away the flimsy fabric covering those twin mounds of flesh. Her breasts spilled out, full and firm and crowned with dark pink aureoles. He cupped the heavy, delicious weight of her breasts in his palms and scraped his thumbs across her rigid nipples, reveling in the soft warmth of her bare skin, the catch of her breath in the back of her throat, and how amazingly responsive she was to his touch.

He wanted to take her in his mouth. Wanted to circle her nipples with his tongue and suck on her breasts until she pleaded for him to stop. Oh, yeah, he'd enjoy hearing Mia beg for mercy for a change. He would love watching her ultimate surrender to him.

Before he could make that gratifying image a reality, she stole back the reins of control once again, distracting him with the soft press of her lips to his chest and the hot, damp trek of her lush mouth skimming its way down to his stomach as she moved lower and then lower still. Her slender, nimble fingers followed, stroking along his taut abs until she reached the waistband of his jeans.