Page 8 of The Loneliest Number (The Thirst Trap #3)

Chapter seven

Cam

I will not take more than one trip. As I pulled each item out from the van, it had become a challenge.

I can’t leave any of these expensive tools out on the street while I carry some of them in.

So it all needs to be in one. But I can’t help cursing myself as I lock the van and look at the pile at my feet.

There’s no way. I contemplate pulling my phone out to call one of the guys inside to help me.

But that feels like admitting I’m not as strong as they all think.

So, fuck that. I will do this even if it kills me.

I start by gathering up the power drill case and my toolbox in one hand, wedging another item in the crook of that arm.

And contemplate the pile that’s left. Maybe I should chuck something back in the van and come back?

“Cam.” I jolt at the cry of my name, standing up straight to take in the sight before me.

Pixie?

It can’t be.

A grin splits my face at the sight of her. It may be a shock to see her, but it most definitely isn’t a bad one.

“Pixie.” Her moniker comes out in a low rasp. The shock of seeing her stealing my ability to speak.

Her brows are high, and her mouth is open in an adorable O shape, showing she’s just as shocked as I am. Her lilac hair tumbles around her face, and I feel the sudden need to be closer to her.

“Let me help.” She rushes forwards, looking down at my hands. I follow her gaze, having completely forgotten I’d been overloading myself with heavy tools. I drop them all beside me and use the momentum of her movement forward and my now free arms to capture her in a bear hug.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper in her ear, refusing to let her go anytime soon.

“What?” Her laugh is warm against my neck. “Put me down, you big oaf.”

I’ve lifted her clear off the floor, and it’s a wretch to set her back down. I want to keep my hands on her, to be certain she doesn’t run off on me again.

“What the fuck, Cam? What are you doing here? What do you mean, you thought I was dead?”

“I didn’t hear from you. Not even a quick ‘I’m back safe at my hotel’ the night you left.” I try to keep the frustration from my tone, but the blush rising on her cheeks must mean she can hear it.

“I didn’t say I would,” she tells me, having to lift her chin to look up at me.

“Neither you did.” Her head tilts as she tries to decipher the Scottish term.

“But I still hoped I’d hear from you. We had a good night, didn’t we?

” I ask her, desperate for confirmation from her lips that the night blew her mind as well as mine.

Despite not knowing her name or having any way to make contact, I haven’t been able to forget her.

“We did. I did think about reaching out, but it seemed daft when I was down here and you were all the way up there.”

“You live here?” I ask her, hopefulness perching in my heart like a bird on a gently swaying branch.

“Err, yeah.” She’s got that cagey look on her face, the one she had each time conversation veered too close to the personal on the night I’d spent with her and Saff.

“What are you doing here? You’re a long way from home.”

“Some work of interest came up when I needed a change of scenery, so I thought I’d take it. Feels a bit odd to be so far south though.” I wince. But it’s brought me to Pixie, so it can’t be all bad, can it?

“Wow. How long are you here for?” she asks, staring up at the building.

“Six months initially, and then we’ll see from there.”

“That long?” Her eyes widen as she switches her gaze to me.

“Maybe we can catch up over dinner?” I ask, hoping she’ll agree.

“Maybe. What are the chances of a tour?” She nods towards the crumbling building, which I’d known nothing about just a few months ago and has now become my sole focus. “If it won’t get you in trouble, that is.”

I scratch my chin, eyes fixed on her. “The upper floors aren’t for visitors yet, but if you can give me a hand with some of this stuff, I can show you the ground floor.”

“That would be amazing.” Her eyes twinkle with glee. “Yes, please.”

I unlock the van and swing the door open to get her a hard hat. It’s too big when I sit it on her head, pushing her lilac hair down so it covers her eyes. Fuck, she looks cute. Pixie by name, pixie in looks. I let loose a chuckle at the sight.

“Hang on, it adjusts,” I tell her, taking it back to tighten the inner lining strap. “That should be better.” She reaches for it, and I give a nod of approval when she perches it on her head.

“Don’t you need one too?” she asks with a side glance. I grab up my blue hard hat with a white saltire painted on it. “Very patriotic. Why do I have to wear a crappy yellow one and you get a personalised one?”

“Because you’re a visitor and I’ll be a regular.”

“What is it you do, exactly? You know, it’s so funny.

I heard some of the guys talking about the owner being Scottish, and it made me think of you.

What a strange coincidence that you’re working here, though.

” A smile tugs at my mouth as she chats faster than my Scottish granny used to, refusing to stop for breath.

She’s watching me expectantly. I’m not sure I’m ready to admit ownership yet; Gran’s bequest to me still feels so fresh, and I don’t even know why it feels awkward to talk to her about it.

Perhaps because she’s such a closed book herself?

But I can be truthful about why I’m here.

“I specialise in renovating buildings from this era. I’m a stonemason by trade, and this one needs a lot of work.” I barely hold back the wince at the thought of what’s waiting for me inside.

“You must be good if they’ve got you all the way down from Scotland.”

“Aye, something like that,” I tell her, bending to lift the tools and piling them into my hands. Pixie joins me, picking up a couple of heavier items. She’s strong. She gives no indication they’re too heavy as she makes her way over to the side door.

This woman intrigues me; I can’t believe I bumped into her like this. Will she agree to spending time with me while I’m here?

The side door is already unlocked, so I give it a push with my shoulder to get us inside. I hold it open so Pixie can precede me in, her head on a swivel as she tries to look everywhere at once. Her eyes are like saucers and her mouth agape as she stands and takes in all the details.

The bones of this building are unreal. Gran hadn’t been messing around when she gifted it to me.

The need to know more about the whole situation grips at me, and not for the first time.

Had she visited the building? When did she decide to give it to me?

Who the fuck is this William guy? And why did he gift her a grand old beauty like this one?

Instead of getting answers to my original questions when I first found out about the building, I’ve only ended up with more, including the perplexities of the date of William’s letter and my grandparents' wedding.

“Just pop them down here,” I tell her. She sets the heavy tools down, and I can’t resist the urge to look her body up and down. She’s tiny compared to me, but there must be plenty of muscle packed in there.

“Where are you working?” she asks, spinning around to stare at the details.

“Mostly assessing this week and peeling back the layers, then coming up with a priority list. I’ll be working with a team to tackle one section at a time.

We’ll probably be starting with the basement.

Come on.” I take a chance, clasping her hand to tug her along.

We walk past a group of guys standing at the top of the stairway to the basement. “Morning,” I acknowledge as we pass.

“Hey, boss,” Archie says, his gaze going straight to Pixie. “Another new team member?” He steps forward, holding out a hand to her with a grin, and I want to punch him in the face. “I’m Archie.” His voice comes out smoother than I’ve ever heard it. “Need a tour, love?”

I’m counting to at least five before I can answer him when Pixie speaks up.

“Just visiting, but thank you. Cam’s showing me round.

” She gives him a curt nod, and a warmth spreads through me when she does nothing to encourage him.

She looks up at me. “Shall we?” She gestures forward with our joined hands.

“Aye, come on. I’ll catch up with you in a bit and we can make a plan for the day,” I tell Archie and the others.

“He called you boss,” Pixie whispers as we move towards a large archway leading to the main room on this floor.

“Did he? I didn’t notice,” I tell her, hoping the warmth in my cheeks isn’t apparent.

Seriously, what is wrong with me right now?

Being all secretive about owning a building and wanting to punch one of my guys for talking to a woman whose real name I don’t even know.

“Hey, given we’re going to be local to each other for a while, would you be willing to share your name? ” I ask.

She purses her lips before asking, “You don’t like Pixie? It doesn’t suit me?”

“It suits you wonderfully, hen. But it would be lovely to know your real name.”

“Maybe. Not yet.” The look on her face can only be described as pure mischief. “How ‘bout you earn it when I get to look around the whole building?”

“That could take months,” I tell her, doing the calculations to work out if I can hire a big enough team to make it weeks instead.

“Perhaps it will keep you motivated to work hard then.” Her wink has me gripping her by the hips and turning her to face me. We’re tucked around the corner from the group of men in the hall, but I glance across to check we are alone.

“I knew you were trouble the moment I met you.”

“Was that while you were blindfolded and tied to the bed or afterwards?” she asks, her eyes sparkling.

She does nothing to keep her voice down, and I bite my lip, thinking of how I could get her to keep quiet.

“Cat got your tongue?” She prods at the beast inside of me, eager to get a rise. My cock throbs in my boxers, a huge fan of her utter cheek.

“Not at the moment, no, but it can be arranged.” I purposely look down towards her jeans-clad crotch, licking my lips.

“Are the knees in those trousers padded?” she asks, not missing a beat.

“They are indeed.” I lay my accent on thick, remembering that it makes her wet.

“You know, those combined with the tool belt… it’s the workman’s version of lingerie.”

“I thought that was grey sweatpants?” I say, brow quirked.

“Mmmh, those too. Do you have some?” Eagerness sparks in her gaze, and I’d be willing to buy ten pairs if it meant she’d grace me with her company.

“Come and have dinner with me, and I’ll show you.”

“Dinner sounds rather prosaic, given our initial meeting, Cam. You’ll need to do better than that.” Her challenge sets me on fire, and I want to stand here and quip with her all day.

“How about I’ll eat you for dinner and then you can bounce on my cock for as long as you like before I model my sweatpants for you.”

“That’s more like it.” Her grin turns salacious.

We are toe to toe, having got closer during the exchange. I want to lean down and kiss her; to peck her nose. There’s an easy grin on my face and a lightness in my chest that hasn't been there for a long time. I could become addicted to her so easily.

“Do you play with just guys? Or do we need to find a third?” I ask with curiosity.

“Given I’ve already given you a test run, I’ll happily spend an evening just with you. As long as you make it worth my while.”

“And what would it take to make it worth your while?”

“An orgasm ratio of at least three to one.” Her smirk is shameless.

“And if I make it five to one?” My blood heats at our exchange.

“Maybe I’ll keep you on call if you can manage that.”

“So, how often do you do the unicorn thing?” I prod, trying to draw more from her. Dammit, Pixie, give me something here.

“Ah, Cam, you’re definitely going to need to butter me up before you get more information out of me.”

I raise a brow, my breath coming out in bursts as we tease each other with words. My cock throbs, but there isn’t enough room in my trousers for it to harden properly. I need to reach down and adjust, but it would mean removing a hand from Pixie, and that ain’t happening anytime soon.

“Does your brain glitch or something?” She tips her head quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“You match me well with words, but every now and again, you pause.”

“Just imagining all the ways I could make you talk.” The flush that starts to creep up her cheeks is satisfying as hell.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” I hum. Her eyes track down to my lips, and I dart my tongue out to lick them. She gulps. Fuck, I want to get on my knees and make her come right here. But I can hear the murmur of voices in the other room.

I spin us round and crowd her until her back hits the wall.

“What are you doing?” She’s breathless as I pull my hard hat off and place it on a shelf beside us.

I push hers back and have to bend my knees and dip my head to get anywhere near her mouth.

I touch my lips to hers and move back just enough to answer her.

“Warming you up.” I lick at the seam of her lips, and she gasps, allowing me access. I gather her up in my arms and lift her, resting her back against the wall. She wraps her legs around me, and nothing has ever felt more right. She grasps the back of my head and holds me close to ravish my mouth.

We’re like twin flames, urging each other on. Heat spreads through my whole body as the desire floods every cell. I want this woman. I need this woman. Right. Fucking. Now.

I reach a hand between us and unfasten the button of her jeans. She cottons on to my intention, shifting her hips so I can push her zipper down. It’s a crazy-tight fit, but I’m able to flatten my hand and ease into her underwear. Her curls are damp with her arousal, and I groan into her kiss.

“Okay?” I ask, almost too out of my mind to check if she’s happy with my finger inside her with a group of men standing and talking about building codes in the next room.

“Oh, yes, touch me. Please.” Her ‘please’ almost brings me to my knees.