When we got into the bedroom, he set me down and kissed me again, this time a little rougher, a little harder. I could feel the need in that kiss, the desire in his touch.
His hands trailed over my body, and I arched into him, pulling my mouth back and moving my head to the side. His lips latched on to my skin, licking and biting and sucking along my neck and down to my shoulder. He tugged at my jacket, and I did the same to his, both of the garments pooling to the floor. I was only wearing flats and could easily slip out of my shoes, and that made it easier for me to go up onto my tiptoes and bring his mouth down for another searing kiss.
His hands moved to my butt, and he molded me with his large grip. Then he pulled me closer, pelvis to pelvis so I could feel the hard ridge of him against the heat of myself. I wanted him inside of me, wanted him on top of me, below me, anywhere near me. I needed this, craved it.
It had been so long since I had been with anyone, far longer since I had been with Cameron. And I didn’t want to wait any longer. I slid my fingers under his shirt, reveling in the hard ridges of his abdomen. He was sculpted, easily had an eight pack, and it made me want to giggle. He was like one of those cover models in the books I loved, but he was all real. There was nothing fantastical about him. He was real, and all mine for the night.
I scraped my fingernails down his skin, and he let out a slight groan, shivering under my touch. And when I put my hand on the hem of his shirt and tugged. He let me slide it over his head, lifting his arms for me.
“Wow,” I whispered, my voice a little shaky with awe.
“You like?” he asked, flexing for me. I laughed, unable to hold myself back.
I loved laughing when I had sex. I just loved being. I loved the fact that Cameron could make me smile and do stupid things to make me feel like there were no worries in the world even when we were on the verge of something more.
The booze in my system seemed to rev me up, and I leaned forward, licking his nipple. He let out a shuddering sigh, and I bit down before going to his other pec. He was tattooed, a few down his side and one over his shoulder. He didn’t have too many, and I knew his brothers had more, at least they had back when we were younger. When I moved behind him to look at his back, I noticed that he had a couple more that he didn’t have back then.
There were no women’s names, no female faces. And for that, I was grateful. But there were a few jagged-looking tears along his side, and I wondered who they were for. For him? For his family? For his mom?
I didn’t ask. Instead, I kissed his spine all the way down to the top of his jeans. And then I stood back up and leaned around to kiss his lips. He kept kissing me, and I fell into him, loving the way we were going slow, feeling one another. He had his hands under my shirt, undoing my bra even as I still wore my blouse, and I just grinned. He had always been very good at that.
Soon, I was naked from the top up, my breasts in his hands as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, using his fingers to play with the other.
Each suck and little bite went straight to my core, and I knew my panties were wet for him. I knew I needed him.
“I need you,” I whispered, not meaning to actually say the words. Cameron could know that I needed him, could know that I wanted him. But just in body, not in soul.
I needed to remember that.
Cameron leaned back and winked before going to his knees. My eyes widened when he kissed his way down my chest, my belly, to right above the waistband of my pants.
With one hand, he slowly slid his finger along the elastic, not quite lowering them. He used the other to untie one of his shoes, then the other. And then he was barefoot, his pants undone, and slowly sliding mine down my body. He cupped my butt as he did it, and then kissed my core over my panties before stripping me completely out of my pants.
And then I stood there in my underwear, looking down at him and sliding my hand through his hair.
Cameron had always been good with oral sex, and while I liked giving him head, I knew he enjoyed eating me out even more.
To say I had been a lucky girl would be an understatement.
And, no, I was not going to remember everything that came after when he left—the pain, the breaking. Because that wasn’t going to happen again. This was just one time. This was just Cameron and me. No promises, no memories.
Cameron kissed me over the top of my panties again and then slowly pushed them back so he could kiss me where I wanted him most.
I let out a groan, throwing my head back and almost falling right down on my butt because there was nothing to hold me up except for his very strong arm. Thank God for Cameron and those strong arms.
“I’m going to fall if you keep doing that,” I panted.
“I’ll catch you.”
And he would, but then I remembered the time he hadn’t. But I pushed that out of my mind. Instead of relying on him, though, I took a few steps back and leaned against the edge of the bed, spreading my legs so he could see me.
He grinned and then crawled towards me. Crawling was a good step. Almost like groveling. I’d take it.
And then he kissed me again, this time lower. I groaned, my head rolling back, my eyes closing. He sucked and licked and then he used his fingers. And when I came, my legs were wrapped around his head, and I was groaning, hearing his name on my lips as I tried to keep quiet so Dillon wouldn’t overhear.
Soon, Cameron was above me, stripping off his pants as he gripped the base of his cock in his hand.
“You look so fucking beautiful.” He groaned. He was growling his words, a glare on his face, his eyes narrowed. For some reason, that was really sexy. He probably shouldn’t have looked sexy, should have looked very scary, but I couldn’t help my reaction. This was Cameron. And I was always far too weak when it came to him.
“Well, what are you going to do now?” I asked, my voice low and kind of sultry. I hadn’t meant to sound like that, but it was Cameron. Again, I couldn’t help myself. Before he could answer, though, I sat up. I was on my knees, shaking, and I pulled at his thighs so he could come closer. His eyes widened, and then he smirked. Oh, I loved that smirk. Because he didn’t always mean it, but I knew it meant naughty things.
And speaking of naughty, I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole. He groaned, his hands sliding through my hair as he slowly worked his way in and out of my mouth. I used one palm to cup his balls, the other to wrap around the base of him because I couldn’t actually swallow all of him.
I flattened my tongue and hummed, knowing exactly what he liked, or at least how he used to enjoy it. And from the way he groaned, the way he shook, I knew he still did. And then he pulled out and kissed me again, his whole body quaking.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last. I’m not as young as I once was.”
“Neither am I, but I don’t mind.”
And then I leaned back and spread myself for him.
He groaned and then went to the nightstand, slipping a condom down his shaft. Thank God he had remembered because I had forgotten.
I had always used condoms with my exes, except for my ex-husband and Cameron. My ex-husband and I never used condoms once we got married because I had thought we were trying to have a baby. Cameron and I had stopped using condoms after we were both tested and I had gone on birth control.
We were not those people anymore. We were not in a committed relationship, and I didn’t know if he had been tested or not. I had, but I still wanted to be careful. It didn’t matter that I was on birth control, I needed that barrier. I needed far more than just that barrier if I were honest.
And then he was over me, sliding into me as he met my gaze.
I groaned, my entire body shivering as he filled me up. His mouth was on me just for a moment before he pulled back to look at me.
And when I looked into his eyes, I felt barer than I could ever remember, even when I was naked. It didn’t matter that I was still wearing my panties and he had just moved them off to the side, it didn’
t matter that we had been intimate like this before.
Because this was different, this was new. This was nothing like it had been before.
Yet it felt like it should have been.
And that scared me. That scared me more than anything I could have possibly felt just then. And then he moved. He moved slowly and so sweetly that I could almost forget that I was supposed to be scared, forget that I wasn’t supposed to be here. He moved, and I moved with him, and when we both came, I called his name, his mouth on mine, taking my shout.
Everything felt like it had before, only different. Like time had passed and we weren’t exactly the same people that we had once been. Because we weren’t.
We fell into each other twice that night, exhausted and no longer drunk. But it was like we both knew if we stopped, if we pulled away, that would be it. That it would be the end again. I was afraid to know what would happen when we did.
I fell asleep on his chest, holding him close as he held me so tightly, I knew I would likely be a little bruised in the morning. But I didn’t care because I needed this night, even if it scared me.
When I woke up the next morning, my head pounded, and I knew a migraine might be coming on a little bit later and not just from the drinks. I knew I had made a mistake.
There was no more booze in my system, no more shots of tequila to help me make this better.
I was in bed, completely naked, and completely sated by Cameron Connolly.
I had promised myself that I wouldn’t let this happen, but I had because I’d needed someone, and he had been there. Because he had always been there, except for the one time when it had truly mattered.
I hated this, and I hated how I felt. Because I blamed myself for this. I was the one who’d said that everything would be okay, even though I knew it would hurt.
What the hell was I going to do?
Cameron was still sleeping, out of it, and I knew if I moved, he wouldn’t actually wake up.
Thankfully, he was still a hard-sleeper, so I rolled out of bed and pulled on my panties, remembering how he had pulled them off the second time we made love. No, not making love. It was just sex. There was nothing about love. We were not in love. We were not in a relationship. Everything would be fine.
I pulled on the rest of my clothes and tried to put my hair back into a bun even though I knew I looked like it was the morning after. It was, after all.
I didn’t know if I was supposed to leave a note or pretend that everything was okay, but Cameron knew where I was, knew where I lived. And I knew that this wasn’t the end. I knew that we would have to talk about it. But not this morning. Not when my head hurt, and I was afraid that I was going to throw up. Not because of the hangover, but because of an oncoming migraine.
I quickly tiptoed out of his room and called a ride service so I’d be able to get back to my house. I picked up my purse from the front entryway table, having forgotten that I’d left it there, and then I looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Oh, of course. Of course.
“Oh, hi, Dillon.”
Dillon took a bite of his cereal and lifted a brow. Then he swallowed and smiled. “Hey there, Violet. Need a ride?”
He was very subtly trying to let me get out of this quickly, but I still had no idea what to say to him. “No, my driver should be here soon. Um, bye.” I scurried out of the house and waited on the side of the road for my driver to pick me up.
Last night had been one of the best and worst times of my life. And I knew it was only the beginning. Because there was no going back to the way things were.
Though I didn’t know where they were going from now on either.
Chapter Ten
Cameron
Waking up in the morning all alone because the woman you’d been sleeping next to most of the night had tiptoed her way out without waking you wasn’t the best way to start your day. And it had all gone downhill from there.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calmly let out a breath, but I couldn’t help it. I was just so fucking tired.
I’d rolled over that morning and put out my hand so I could touch Violet, so I could make sure that everything that had happened the night before was real, but Violet wasn’t there. She had left.
Maybe I should have expected it, and somewhere deep down I had, but it was still a bit of a shock to open my eyes and realize that she wasn’t there.
I’d stumbled out of bed myself, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand as I shoved myself back into my jeans, at least doing up the zipper if not the button. I had thought that maybe she was still in the house, maybe getting coffee or just sitting on the couch, wondering what the hell we had done.
As soon as I’d gone out there, Dillon had raised one brow at me as he finished up his cereal and then shook his head.
Apparently, I had just missed her. By literal minutes.
She had run out of the bedroom, grabbed all her clothes, had an awkward run-in with Dillon in the living room, and then had found her ride share so she could leave me without a word.
Not unlike what I’d done to her all those years ago.
Damn it.
I still couldn’t quite believe what we had done.
Yes, we had done it before, we had been with each other before, but it was still a little shocking to me that we actually did it again. I had loved being with Violet before, had enjoyed every single part of us. But I had truly thought that what we had was gone. Then, somehow, last night, she had turned to me, and I had done the same with her. I wouldn’t regret it, because if I did, it would make what we did wrong. And it wasn’t.
But it still made me want to punch something.
Because I knew it was all a mistake. I had known it was a mistake going in, not because anything with Violet would be bad, but because it wasn’t the right time. She had said that she was taking advantage of me, but I still felt like I was the one taking advantage of her.
Maybe I deserved everything I got, because I seemed to be making one mistake after another—just like I had before.
But I couldn’t focus on that, couldn’t concentrate on Violet right then. Because I had to focus on the issue that was the bar.
I was starting to hate Connollys, little by little, day by day. It had been a touchstone for Jack and Rose. It had been their place. Something that had kept a roof over their heads and kept them together. They had loved working here, and they had brought us in when we were just kids, freshly out of whatever other foster home or street we had been in or on at the time.
They hadn’t cared that, yes, they worked at a bar and owned one, and had brought in children during working hours. We had never gone behind the bar, at least not then, but we had still seen how the business worked.
We had seen how it ran correctly. The place had been thriving back then, with constant regulars coming in and out. There had been other bars around, but this place had been the hopping one. Maybe that was because of Jack and Rose. They had been that good, that amazing.
Or maybe it was because the other places around here weren’t quite as good and they closed before Jack’s did.
I let out a breath, trying not to focus on that last thought. Because I didn’t want this place to close. It was mine, Aiden’s, and Brendon’s. And as I looked over at my youngest brother, I thought it might be Dillon’s, too. No, Dillon’s name wasn’t on the deed, and he wasn’t going to lose anything if this place closed, but he was still my brother, our brother, and trying to figure out how all of that worked within these walls was a whole other matter.
“What’s up with you?” Brendon asked, his brows lowered. “You’re not even out there working, yet you’re glowering.”
“You only think I should glower when I’m out there?” I asked, annoyed that Brendon had walked in on me in the back office. I just needed time to get my thoughts in order, and the fact that that’s what I kept doing these days was starting to piss me off.
“I don’t even get you. But we
have a problem.”
I leveled my gaze at him, really hating that statement. “That’s not the first time you said that. What the fuck’s going on now?”
“Well, the printer that we used to get the word out, as well as the publicity team that I hired to help with the online stuff got the date wrong.
I shook my head. “Huh?”
“For wing night. You know, the whole day that was supposed to bring in new people and new flair with Aiden’s wings and his other new stuff on the menu? It’s not going to happen today.”
I froze, trying to comprehend what my brother was saying. “What do you mean it’s not going to happen today? We’ve been working on getting this ready for the past month. I had to make sure that the place looked nice, but it always does because Beckham and I know what the fuck we’re doing. Aiden has been working on getting that new menu ready, including two new types of wings. We’ve been getting everything ready for today. Your job was to get people in. And you’re saying you didn’t get it done?”
Brendon raked his hands through his hair, looking the angriest I had ever seen him. And I had seen Brendon looking pretty mad.
“I don’t fucking understand it. I’ve used these people before, but they totally fucked up this time. If it weren’t for the fact that I know they’re not working with another bar, I would assume they were trying to sabotage us. But it’s simple human error. I just didn’t catch it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And why didn’t you catch it?”
Brendon turned on his heel and threw his hands up into the air. “Because I have another job. Because I’m doing this on the side of what’s actually bringing in money. And because I’m stupid. I don’t know. I’m sorry. We’re just going to have to figure out what to do with tonight because it’s just not going to happen the way we want it to.”
“We’re going to lose a lot of money on this. You get that, don’t you?”
“I am the money man. Yeah, I get that. And you can yell at me, punch me, do whatever the fuck you want. But don’t worry about it, because anything you do, I’m going to want to do more to myself. I’m never working with that company again. I’ll just have to do that all on my own from now on.”
Breaking Without You: A Fractured Connections Novel Page 10