by Helen Lacey
“That’s to be expected.”
Her shoulders grew heavy. “I know. And I know these things are random and happen and there’s no way of controlling it...but still, I can’t help wondering. In a split second someone lives and someone dies. There’s really no sense to be made.”
Cameron touched her hair and her heart contracted at his gentleness. “I think that every time I’m on duty and attend a motor vehicle accident. Your feelings are real, Grace. But if your friend died on impact there’s nothing you could have done. It wasn’t your fault.”
Logically, Grace knew he was right. Her therapist had said it often enough. But the feelings lingered. Fresh tears filled her eyes and she blinked and more truths tumbled out.
“Richard’s wife came to see me when I returned to work. She said she was collecting the rest of his things from his office, but I knew that wasn’t the only reason.” Grace took a long breath. “She stood in the doorway and stared at me...and somehow I knew what she was thinking. She looked around at my office, saw there weren’t any photographs on my desk or anything in the room that might indicate that I meant something to someone, and I could feel her resentment. I felt such guilt in that moment that I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t talk about Richard, I couldn’t express my sorrow for her loss. He was a man with a loving family and so much to live for, and I was just...I was...me—work-obsessed, closed off, friendless.”
The truth was raw and painful and her whole body ached, inside and out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt as alone as I did in those few minutes,” she admitted with a sob. “An hour later I fell apart in front of a client and my boss made me take some leave and see a therapist. My treatment was to come home.” She shrugged and didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her cheeks this time.
“You don’t need validation for surviving the crash, Grace. Not from your family, me or anyone else.”
She couldn’t pull back the agonized groan that escaped her lips. His insight both scared and soothed her. Her feelings were jumbled and when he moved closer the words she wanted to say somehow disappeared. His mouth hovered near hers. She pushed forward and their lips met, softly, because she wasn’t sure she should do it. Part of her longed to kiss him over and over and try to erase the pain and guilt in her heart. And part of her wanted to run. Because she’d run from her feelings for Cameron since she was eighteen years old.
She pulled back and broke the contact of their lips. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I didn’t mind.”
She sighed heavily. “I know. And that’s why I shouldn’t have done it. I also shouldn’t have told you what happened. It’s my problem and—”
He kissed her hotly and the rest of her denials faded. Grace wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted. When he stopped she was breathless.
“Then why did you tell me?” he asked. “If for no other reason than you needed to talk about it to someone.”
“Because you—”
“Does my wanting you frighten you that much?”
Her heart stilled. Had she ever really been wanted? By Dennis? By Erik? Had she really wanted them in return? A resounding no rang out in her head. She’d only wanted a career. Not love. Not sex. Not a home and family. Just work. And now, she was as vulnerable as she’d ever been, with the one man who could make her forget she had a life waiting for her back in New York.
“I can’t,” she admitted hollowly. “I just can’t. Not with you.”
His brown eyes absorbed her as he twirled strands of her hair between his fingers. Finally, he shifted in the seat. “You should get some sleep.”
Grace stilled. “I’d like to stay here for a while, if that’s okay?”
“Sure,” he said and stood. “Good night.”
As she watched him walk from the room, Grace knew that as confused and tired as she was, all she really wanted to do was fall into Cameron’s strong arms and stay there for the night. And maybe longer.
Chapter Nine
Cameron flipped on his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep was out of the question. He managed to waste about an hour or so before he got up, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and padded down the hall.
Grace was asleep on the sofa and he covered her with a knitted blanket hanging over the back of the love seat in the corner. She looked exhausted and he lingered for a moment, considering everything she’d told him. Without her secrets and frosty reserve she seemed achingly vulnerable and it pierced his heart.
He wanted her.
He loved her.
And she was so messed up he should ignore every feeling he had. Because he was going to get his heart smashed. Again. She was leaving in two weeks. She didn’t want a relationship with him. She didn’t want marriage or kids. She’d spelled it out many times.
Dumb ass.
He longed for the impossible.
She stirred and he quietly left the room and headed for the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. I need to chill out. Not that he needed any more thinking time. He’d been thinking about Grace all his adult life. She was why he’d never settled, never made a commitment with any of the perfectly lovely women he’d dated.
I just can’t. Not with you.
That was plain enough.
It should have worked like a bucket of cold water over his feelings, his longings and his libido.
“Oh—sorry. I didn’t realize you were still awake.”
He looked up. Grace stood in the doorway.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I couldn’t sleep.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall which had just ticked past eleven o’clock. “I guess I crashed out for an hour or so.”
“You must have needed it,” he said and came around the counter.
Grace hesitated by the doorway. “Cameron,” she said with a shaky breath. “I wanted to thank you for listening earlier. I’ve never really talked about the crash or Richard before.”
“No problem.”
“And about what I said...I meant...I meant that I...”
As her words trailed off he leaned against the counter and shrugged. “You can’t force feelings Grace, I get that.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it.”
Cameron’s heart surged forward, battering against his chest. “Then what?”
“It’s why I left,” she said on a breath. “Why I couldn’t be what you wanted back then. I knew you were getting serious and the plans I had didn’t include Crystal Point or settling down.”
“So you left for New York and didn’t look back?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And in two weeks I’ll be going back there. You know that, right?”
“Sure.”
“So, if anything happened it would—”
“Anything?” he prompted.
Cameron uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the counter. As he moved the air between them shifted on some invisible axis. Hotter somehow, even though it was obviously cool outside. And thicker, like a gust of something sinfully seductive had blown into the room.
She sucked in a breath. “I want...I want...”
“You want what?”
Her green eyes glittered. “I want to...feel.”
Cameron kept his head. As beautiful as she was, as inviting as she was, he needed to be sure of her. “You know, you’ve had a pretty harrowing day. And bad days can make for impulsive decisions.”
“I’m never impulsive.”
“You were on the beach last weekend,” he reminded her.
She shrugged a little. “So, despite what people think, I’m a normal woman with a normal woman’s needs.”
“I know you’re a woman, Grace,” he said quietly. “But today was hard—not only did Thomas almost die, you talked about the crash that almost took your life. When emotions come out like that, feelings can get...misdirected.” He took her hand. “The thing is, if you want comfort—I can give you that. If you want sex—I can give you that, too. But tomorrow, I’ll still be me. And you’ll still be the same woman who wanted to get away from Crystal Point.”
She moved closer. “Tomorrow isn’t tonight. But if you don’t want me I’ll understand and—”
“Grace,” he said, cutting her off. “Of course I want you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not made of stone. Do you think I haven’t been imagining what it would be like to make love to you every minute of every day?”
She smiled. “Then make love to me. Please.”
Cameron blinked twice and wondered if he were dreaming. She looked so beautiful. And startlingly vulnerable. He found some life in his legs and moved across the room.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded.
He gripped her hand and she curled her fingers around his and turned, urging him forward and down the hall to her bedroom.
Once there she released him and stood beside the bed. Cameron’s heart hammered. He’d imagined this moment countless times—even when they’d pretended to hate one another. And now he was with her, in her bedroom, standing barely a foot apart.
“But you’re not sure about this, are you?” she asked and twisted her fingers together. Grace was nervous.
So am I.
“I’m sure,” he replied and took her hand in his. “Only, I’m still me, like I said. I’m still a small-town police officer—and it’s what I’ll always—”
She reached up and placed two fingers against his mouth, cutting off his words. “I was eighteen and foolish when I said that. Who hasn’t said stupid things in their life that they regret?”
She had a point. He regretted many of the things he’d said to Grace over the years. The digs, the antagonism—foolishness to hide behind so he didn’t have to face his feelings for her, and the rejection he’d felt. But he wanted her so much. And right at that moment, the risk of getting his heart broken was worth it.
He took her hand and urged her forward, cupping the back of her neck with his other hand. “There’s no going back once we do this, Grace.”
“I know.”
Without another word he drew her close and took her lips in a deep, drugging kiss. She groaned low in her throat and gripped his shoulders, holding on as breath and souls mingled. Kissing Grace was like nothing on earth.
Need for her spiked and his arms tightened around her waist, settling on her hips. Her sweatshirt fell off one shoulder and the bra strap went with it. He trailed kisses down her jaw and neck. The scent of her skin was powerful to his senses and he felt all the blood in his body rush to his groin.
Go easy...go slow.
She said his name and ran her fingers through his hair. Her eagerness spiked his desire. “Take this off,” he muttered against her shoulder, tugging lightly at her sweatshirt.
“You first.”
Obliging instantly, he released her for a second and pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. Her palms came to his chest and the touch sent his blood soaring. He kissed her again, hungry for the taste of her. Her mouth opened and she rolled her tongue around his, softly at first, almost tentative and it made him smile.
Grace pulled back, all eyes and swollen lips. “You’re laughing?”
“No,” he said gently and grasped her chin. “Just thinking how good it feels to be with you like this.”
She nodded and stepped back, then grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and slipped the garment off in one fluid movement. Cameron watched, absorbed by the evocative look in her eyes. The white lace bra pushed her breasts upward and his hands tingled. He wanted to touch her breasts so much he ached. But she was calling the shots at that moment and he didn’t mind one bit.
She discarded the top and rested her fingers on the waistband of her sweatpants. It was both excruciating and erotic to watch as she slowly slid the sweats past her hips and over her thighs. They dropped in a puddle at her feet and she pushed them out of the way with her foot. The white lace briefs were quite modest and unbelievably sexy.
She stepped back again and sat on the edge of the bed. When he moved toward her she pushed back farther onto the mattress. Cameron rested a knee on the bed and looked down at her lying against the white quilt. Her dark hair fanned wildly around her face. Her body was curved and toned, her skin smooth. A tiny diamond glittered from her pierced navel and seemed oddly at contrast with the controlled, serious woman he’d always believed her to be.
“You are so beautiful.” Cameron moved beside her and grasped her shoulder. “And incredibly sexy,” he said as he ran his fingertips down her arm.
“Really?” She took hold of his hand as he curved his palm over one hip. “Cameron,” she said, suddenly too serious. “Just so you know...I’m not very good at this.”
He stilled. “This?”
“This,” she said again, quieter, like she had some terrible secret. “I’m not very responsive. I mean, I like the idea of...making love. But when I’m with someone I sort of shut down. I think there’s something wrong with me. I’m only telling you because I don’t want you to think it’s something you’ve done. Or didn’t do,” she added quickly.
A feeling akin to pain pierced his chest. How could she possibly think that? “The suit?” he accused. “He said that? He said there was something wrong with you?”
She nodded. “And before that. Dennis said—”
“How about we don’t worry what the suit or the doctor or anyone else has said to you.” He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “Can you feel that?”
She nodded again.
He traced his tongue inside her palm. “And that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Do you trust me, Grace?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I do.”
“So, trust me now,” he said quietly. “Trust this. Trust us....”
He looked into her eyes, saw her agreement and then kissed her. For a while, kissing was enough. She gave her mouth up to him, responding to each slant, every breath and each time he took her bottom lip between his. He threaded his hands through her beautiful hair, loving the way the wild curls got caught between his fingers.
The need to love her right, to pleasure her unselfishly, had never seemed more important. Her hands were on his chest and her soft caress burned through him. He kissed her and reached for the back of her bra, flicking the garment apart. He felt her smile beneath his mouth and then she shifted her shoulders free of the white lace.
He looked at her breasts, wanting nothing more to worship them...and more...worship her. Tonight. Forever. When he cupped one breast and closed his mouth over her nipple he thought he might die a slow, agonizing death. Pleasure and pain ripped through his middle, arrowing downward, making him so hard so quickly, he wondered if he would pass out.
He said her name against the luscious peak and groaned when she pushed toward him. Her hands were in his hair, over his shoulders, his neck, everywhere, like she couldn’t get close enough, touch enough, feel enough. He caressed her skin, finding the places she liked. When his fingers reached the band on her briefs she stilled and drew in a sharp breath.
“Relax,” he whispered against her mouth. “And trust me.”
* * *
Grace looked into his eyes and nodded with a hazy kind of surrender. She did trust him. Completely. More, she realized as he efficiently dispensed with her underwear, than any man she’d ever known. And for the first time in her life, without questioning why, she gave herself up to feel...to really feel...like s
he’d always longed for in her secret dreams.
His hands were magic over her skin, his mouth hot and demanding, yet also gentle as he coaxed response from her. She gave it willingly and wound her tongue around his as their kisses deepened, touching his chest, his strong, smooth shoulders. And she waited for what she suddenly craved, she waited for his intimate touch. None of her usual apprehension rose up—instead, Grace let go of her insecurities and fell apart in his arms.
He knew how to touch her, knew where, as though he’d been touching her forever, and beyond. While he stroked her, while his skillful fingers drew narcotic pleasure along her every nerve ending, he continued to kiss her mouth. He took her bottom lip between his teeth and suckled gently. When the tempo of her breathing changed he released her mouth and looked down into her face. His eyes were dark, clearly aroused, and she lost all her inhibitions beneath his penetrating stare. Grace spiraled, she flew, her blood fired as every part of her raced toward a shattering climax so intense, so wondrous, she couldn’t stop herself from saying his name, over and over.
She came down slowly, breathing in tiny gasps of air, floating on a steady wave of aftershocks. Her eyes burned. No tears, she told herself. Not now.
“See,” Cameron said quietly, kissing her jaw, her chin, and the delicate spot below her ear. “Nothing wrong with you at all.”
The tears she’d tried to deny suddenly filled her eyes and she blinked, desperate for him not to see them. Too late. He wiped the moisture from her cheek with his thumb.
So vulnerable, so exposed, Grace felt the rawness deep down to her bones.
“Sorry,” she whispered and moved to turn her head away.
Cameron grasped her chin. “For what? Feeling pleasure?” He touched her bottom lip. “Don’t ever be sorry for that, Grace.”