“Good.” His expression soft, he popped the locks and held open the passenger door of the Z for me.
I folded myself in and glanced up at him through my lashes. “Can I drive again?”
He scoffed. “Not a chance.”
“Scared, huh?” I teased.
“You have a lead foot, and there’s not enough empty freeway in LA for your kind of driving.” He closed my door and rounded the hood.
I settled back in the sumptuous leather and enjoyed the view. With his broad shoulders and confident stride, he offered a more compelling view than any I could dream up.
After he ducked inside, buckled himself in, and fired up the engine, I tried again.
“Maybe we could go somewhere outside of LA sometime. Someplace with wide-open spaces.”
“Somewhere. Sometime. Someplace.” His voice was low as he echoed my words, the spacing rhythmic. “Wide-open spaces. Baby beside me. Running from trouble. Speeding from what we know.”
“Sounds like an Eagles song.” Questions I’d asked earlier returned, spinning like the revolutions of the Z’s tires inside my brain.
“Yeah, Cam.” He swept his gaze over me, and the revolutions screeched to a smoke-filled stop. “I can do fast with you, or I can do slow. Show you what I know.”
“I like that.” I smiled at how his voice resonated so beautifully inside the Z’s cabin. “Is it a new Rush song?” I was short of breath, pretty sure I’d just been flirted with and serenaded at the same time.
By Brad.
Businessman and bard, he seemed to have two distinct sides to him, like I had in my head with my voices.
“No, just me fooling around.” His eyes gleaming darkly, he threw his arm over the back of my seat and turned his head to reverse out of the parking spot. The Z’s tires squealed as he shifted, accelerating fast and fluidly.
“If I fool around with you for real, Cam . . .” He gave me his potent piercing stare. “You’ll know.”
“Flirty fooling around, versus flirting with a purpose. Is that what you mean?” I asked.
“A purpose that ends with you saying . . .” He gave me another glance with an accompanying lip curl that made my stomach flip. “Yeah, baby. I like it, baby. Give it to me, baby, just like that.”
Chapter 35
* * *
Bradley
Tank tops and more tank tops. Cropped tops or ones with strategically placed holes seemed to be her preference. Tantalizing off-the-shoulder shirts. Shorts, the shorter and more frayed the better. Jeans painted on. Cam tried everything on, and everything she put on just made me want to take it off her.
“How about this one?” In beige shorts that showed off her long shapely bronzed legs, and a red tank that revealed a hint of her toned midriff, Cam did a couple of pirouettes in front of me, wearing a colorful kimono that didn’t seem to want to stay on her shoulders.
“Nice.” I nodded carefully.
Her one-woman fashion show was making me hot, and I think she knew what she was doing to me. She hadn’t even attempted to be discreet about the pile of lacy lingerie she’d taken with her to try on behind the pile of boxes. Every rustle on the other side of her impromptu dressing room screen made my already rock-hard cock harder. If I moved, just the friction with my zipper might make it go off.
“Hmm,” she said, staring at me, sounding and looking miffed. “That’s pretty noncommittal.”
“Hmm is noncommittal. Nice means nice. You look good, babe. You’ve looked good in everything.”
“I’m hanging around with you now, so I want to look presentable.” She shrugged a slender shoulder. The kimono sleeve slipped off it, gathering in the crook of her arm.
“You look better than presentable.” I leaned forward on the box I was using as a chair, my hands clasped together. “I think you were trying to escape notice with the yoga gear, but FYI, babe, it’s impossible not to notice you. A star draped in a black velvet sky only shines that much brighter.”
“I love when you talk like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you did in the car. Some the other night. The descriptive rhyming words. They’re poetic.”
“You bring out the creative side of me. You’re a pretty muse with a flair for fashion. My graceful pretty muse.”
“Thank you.” Her silvery-green eyes sparkled from just a few compliments. “Maurice told me he thinks I should model.”
“He did, huh?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. Her ebony hair slid along her shoulders with her movement, capturing and reflecting the glow of the lone light bulb that dangled from an overhead wire.
“I’ve thought so all along. You might consider music videos, if you wouldn’t be opposed to a little acting. But listen to Maurice. Don’t just take my word for it.”
“I like your word the best,” she said softly while gazing down at me, her eyes glowing within the frame of her thick black lashes.
“I like that you like mine the best.” I stood and reached for her.
Surprised, she gasped as I brought her body into alignment with mine, holding her gently, though I wanted to crush her to me. She rocked in her flip-flops, but she didn’t back away.
“Maurice is in tight with all the designers. He knows what he’s talking about. Did you say yes?”
She shook her head. Licking her lips, she seemed to be struck mute by my proximity,
Say yes to me. Say yes to me tasting those lips.
I searched her gaze. Did she know how badly I wanted to kiss her? How good she felt, all her perfect curves pressed to all my hardness and heat?
I wanted to walk her backward into the closest wall and make the heat hotter. But I didn’t want to settle for a mere kiss or even a quick fuck against a wall. I wanted to take my time with her, show her how crazy she made me, and make her just as crazy.
But it was too soon. When I made my move, I had to be sure she was ready. She had to know that what I wanted from her was real, not pretend.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Why not, what?” She looked dazed.
“Modeling might not be your dream job.” I hoped her confusion was because her mind had wandered along the same route that mine had. “But it’s a job.”
“I don’t think his people would really hire me.” Wiggling in the space between us, she brought her hand up to her mouth and nibbled on the edge of her finger.
“Because of your past?” My cock jumped as I imagined her warm, wet mouth around it.
“Hey.” She blinked slowly a couple of times, and it seemed to focus her. “Didn’t you say you needed to see Coralee tonight?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed the gruff need. “But—”
“It’s getting late.” She glanced around.
I looked over my shoulder. The sun was on its way down, and I hadn’t noticed. Time passed fast, hours seeming like only minutes with Cam. I turned my wrist over and pulled back my shirtsleeve. My watch revealed what I’d feared. I was out of time to spend with her.
“Shit, you’re right. I gotta go.”
“You’re not gonna go anywhere fast at this time of day in LA.”
“You’re right.” My brows drew together. “I don’t have time to get you back to the house and me to her place.”
“You might if I drove.” Cam waggled her brows.
“Cute, and a good try, but no.” I shook my head. “I’ll call her. Tell her I’ll be late.”
“Don’t do that. I can do a Lyft or Uber.”
“Looking like that?” I gave her a firm look. “No fucking way.”
“You let me go to Nordstrom all by myself the other day.”
“Yes, but in your current outfit, you’d overly tempt any man.”
“It might be a woman driver, and anyway, I’m not trying to attract any man,” she whispered, peering up at me coyly through her lashes. “Just you.”
“You don’t have to try with me.”
I wanted to proclaim myself, pounce on her, and rip her clo
thes off. This was the green light I’d been waiting for. My muscles were coiled so tightly, they burned. All of me burned wanting her.
“Cam,” I said, but was interrupted when my cell suddenly rang.
“You’d better get that.”
“Shit. That isn’t what I want to do.” I shook my head and watched her do the same thing, as if to clear her own mind. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”
Withdrawing my phone from my slacks, I gave her a hot look before answering the call.
“Bradley Marshall speaking.”
“It’s Coralee.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, refocusing in an instant. “You sound upset.”
“No. Yes.” She choked out a sob. “My mom just came over.”
“To your new place?”
“Yes.”
“Is she still there?”
“No, but can you come over right now? I don’t think me being independent is going to work. I’m scared, and I’m sad.”
“I’m getting in my car right now, but I’m downtown. It’ll take me a while to get to you. Stay put. It’ll be okay. You can do this, all right?”
“Okay, but—”
“I’m ending the call for a few minutes, just until I can get into the car and talk to you on Bluetooth.”
“Sure.”
“Good. Give me five.” I hung up to see Cam nibbling on her finger and watching me. “You’re coming with me.”
It wasn’t a question. We were on the cusp of where I wanted us to be. I wasn’t letting her out of my sight until we were there.
“I was going to suggest that.”
“Right.” I reached for and grabbed her hand, the turbulence within me settling. “Glad we’re on the same wavelength.”
“Are we?” she asked as I pulled her along with me toward the car. “I was sending signals, for sure, but I wasn’t sure if you received them.”
“I received them.” I gave her a dark nod. I wanted her, and she wanted me. She was sticking close. Our signals were in sync, and soon the rest of us would be.
“Yippee!” She grinned at me and tugged her hand free of mine. “That means you grab the clothes, lock the unit up, then talk to Coralee while I drive.”
Chapter 36
* * *
Camaro
It turned out, Brad didn’t let me drive.
Not wanting to intrude, I didn’t want to come up to Coralee’s apartment, but he wouldn’t let me wait in the lobby. So I gave in, and stared out the windows while he talked with her on the large sectional behind me, but there wasn’t enough to distract me on the outside of the floor-to-ceiling glass. Sure, the lit-up buildings scattered throughout the darkened valley twenty stories below twinkled becomingly, but Brad’s reflection in the glass was an infinitely more becoming view.
His suit jacket was set aside and he’d rolled up his sleeves. His muscular forearms and chiseled chest in his formfitting custom shirt were tempting to behold, but more tempting was the care and concern in his expression. His eyes were warm and his voice warmer as he comforted the troubled teen.
“I’ll call her for you,” he told Coralee, then stood and crossed to me. “You okay over here?”
I turned to face the real him, which beat the hell out of the reflection, and gave him a smile. “I’m fine.”
He reached up and cupped my cheek, sweeping the pad of his thumb across my mouth. “Hold tight then. I just need to call her mother. I’ll be right back.”
His Ferragamos striking the stamped concrete floors someone else had swept, I intently watched him with my lips tingling from his touch until he disappeared down a back hallway.
“Wow.” Coralee stepped up beside me. Her brown hair was up in a haphazard bun. Her cheeks remained blotchy from her earlier tears, but her hazel-green eyes were dry.
“I wish he . . .” She glanced at me, twisting her hands together. “I mean, I wish I had a guy like him who was that into me.”
“He’s not into me.” I made the denial realizing the teen had a crush on him, but also realizing that she might be right. It sure seemed like Brad wanted me. If I reached for him, it was unlikely I would get turned down a second time, but I’d get a lot less than I longed for.
“You look better.” I gave Coralee a gentle smile. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Lots.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“My mom puts me down to control me.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I know why she does it, but it still upsets me.”
“Those we want to love us the most have the most power to hurt us.”
She gave me a curious look. “Is your mom like mine?”
“No.” My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. “She died a long time ago. It’ll be fourteen years at the end of this week.”
“And yet you still miss her,” Coralee said, and I glanced down to discover her fingers wrapped around mine.
“Yes. She was . . .” I stopped, then started again, feeling the sensitive teenager watching me expectantly. “She was beautiful. Brave. Loving. Kind. A lot like you.”
“I’m not those things.”
“I think you are. But like you, I had a hard time believing it because my dad would say things to make me doubt myself.”
“To control you? Like my mom?”
“No. Because I wasn’t who he wanted me to be.” Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked through them. “Would you like me to tell you a story?”
“What kind of story?”
“Just a little make-believe. One with a happy ending. It might make both of us feel better.”
Coralee’s eyes brightened. “Yes, please.”
“All right.” I thought for a minute. “Once upon a time, there was a young girl. She had long wavy brown hair and pretty hazel-green eyes, and wanted more than anything to be strong, brave, and true, but she didn’t know how.”
“What did she do?” Her voice soft, Coralee tightened her fingers on mine.
“She went to someone older and wiser and asked for help.”
“Who?” Coralee asked.
“A wise oracle. The great and mighty Z, who was always right and never wrong.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Brad leaning against the wall at the mouth of the hallway, his lips curved. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and his head was cocked. He’d been listening. He had to know he was the inspiration for the oracle.
He dipped his chin, knowing I saw him, and was giving me leave to continue. I wanted to continue, so I did.
“The know-it-all oracle, I mean, the wise oracle Z, said, ‘You must go on a journey.’
“‘Where to?’ asked the young girl.
“‘To a land where roses always bloom, even in the strongest, fiercest winter.’
“‘What is it called?’ she asked. ‘How will I find this place?’
“‘It’s called Chiara’s garden. It’s in a castle in the sky. You must have wings to get there.’
“‘How do I get wings? I am only a young girl.’
“‘You must find your secret talent,’ the oracle said. ‘You must believe in it with all your heart. Then and only then will you be granted a pair of wings to take you to Chiara’s castle.’
“The young girl dried her tears and thought long and hard. She thought long and hard by herself, not realizing she was being brave to do so.
“‘Aha,’ she said. ‘I can sing. I can play the piano.’ So she did, and she was very good. Everyone thought so.”
Coralee’s eyes glowed as she watched me.
“When the young girl went to bed that night, she wore a smile on her face, and when she woke up the next morning, she had an even bigger one.”
“She got her wings?” Coralee asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Beautiful sparkling white ones dusted in the purest magic. When she put them on, she soared high above her doubts and misgivings. She soared above all her fears. She didn’t even realize she was in the clouds, hovering right above the castle gates, until
she was already there.”
“Wow.” Coralee smiled, and I did too. Hope and happiness were contagious.
“The young girl went through the gates. A magic red carpet unfolded in front of every step she took, showing her the way. When she reached the garden, she inhaled deeply. The red flowers smelled so good, and they were so beautiful, but the woman who tended them was even more so.
“‘Hello,’ she said to the young girl. ‘I’m Chiara.’ Rising, she wore a white robe with nary a dirt stain on it. Her long black hair gleamed like the night sky, and her eyes were emerald green, like an enchanted forest. ‘What do you desire?’
“‘To know how to be strong, brave, and true,’ the girl said.
“‘You found your secret talent by yourself, did you not?’ Chiara asked.
“‘Yes, I did,’ the young girl said.
“‘You flew on wings to see me all by yourself, even though it was something you had never done before.’
“The girl nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’
“‘My sweet girl,’ Chiara said with a smile. ‘You are already brave. Strength and truth are found within. Look inside, and you will find all that you seek. All you need to do is believe.’
“And the young girl did. She believed in herself, and she lived happily ever after.”
Coralee nodded. “I like that story, and I like you very much, Camaro.”
“I like you too, and my friends call me Cam.”
She squeezed my hand and released it. “Thank you for encouraging me.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
“Yes, like magic.” She smiled. “But I’m not the only one with a secret talent.”
Chapter 37
* * *
Bradley
I watched Cam closely from the passenger seat while she drove. Of course I let her drive. What she desired, I wanted to give her. All that she would accept. She was the limiting factor in how we proceeded, not me.
“Who’s Chiara?” I asked.
The car swerved, and I threw a protective arm across Cam’s midsection while grabbing the dash in front of me. Her knuckles blanching from her tight grip on the steering wheel, she righted the Z quickly.
The Right Wish Page 20