Collecting Secrets

by PE Kavanagh

  “No. Well, maybe. It’s more like anticipation. I want you.”

  “How do you want me?”

  All those years of speaking so frankly with Jackson about sex had perfectly prepared her for that moment. “I want you to kiss me, and touch me, and be inside me. With your fingers and your mouth and your cock.”

  A rumble vibrated through his chest and out of his mouth. He tightened his grip around her.

  “What are you feeling, Jack?”

  “I’m feeling like I’m barely managing to keep my desire in control and not ravage you. My dick is so hard it hurts pretty bad. But my word to you is more important than any of that, so I’m not going to do anything.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are we doing this?” The overwhelming sensations were clouding her memory of the decision they’d made.

  “Because your desire for me is not yet integrated. It’s clear in your body, but not yet in your mind, which could make you feel regretful. I want you to move through all of that until the dissonance passes. And I want you to want me.”

  “I do want you, Jackson.”

  “More.”

  * * *

  Cool and casual, he’d told her in preparation for their next date. The taxi dropped them off at The Fillmore and she looked up at the marquee to see the name of her favorite local band. The one whose tickets were impossible to get.

  “You didn’t…”

  He beamed as brightly as the neon signs. “I sure did.”

  “Amazing, Jack. Just amazing.”

  It didn’t matter that it was so crowded, she could hardly breathe. It didn’t matter that her eardrums had probably suffered permanent damage from the volume. All that mattered was their singing, dancing, and screaming for two straight hours.

  When they went to bed, Camille didn’t wait for him to come to her. She lunged for his mouth and wrapped her hand around his cock. It was a mad, feverish scramble to get as connected as possible. He did not resist.

  Until he sprung from the bed, panting, erection raging in front of him, almost as if he’d heard an intruder. Without saying anything, he walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped in. His groan echoed all the way into the bedroom.

  When he returned, he slipped back into the bed and looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry, Cam. It was getting too much.”

  “I can’t do this again, Jack. The logic keeps leaving me. I’m not feeling more grounded, I’m feeling less. Everything is too intense.”

  “Maybe this wasn’t the right approach. I’m sorry.”

  She placed her palm on his chest, surprised to still feel the deep pounding. “Did the cold shower help?”

  “A little. Not enough.”

  She moved her hand down his chest, over his abdomen, and gripped him tightly.

  “Cam…” He moved her hand and held it, softly, away from both of their bodies.

  They lingered in this limbo, connected by wide eyes, synchronized breath, and a single hand. Camille swore she could feel the beating of his heart across those few inches that separated their naked bodies. She arched her back, jutting her breasts toward him, aching for more connection.

  He moved just outside of her reach. “Do you trust that I’m going to keep my promise to you, Camille?”

  It was almost as if he was speaking in slow motion, the movement of his lips resonating inside her. She had no interest in the promise. “Yes.”

  He inched toward her, so close that the heat from his body was unmistakable. It was as if he was running his hands and mouth over every inch of her skin. But they were still separated, except for that hand and the steady warm breath enveloping her.

  She closed her eyes and squeezed her thighs together, the imagined sensation of him everywhere in her and around her all of a sudden overwhelming. It couldn’t be…

  A wave of pleasure washed over her, followed by a deep groan that she could neither expect nor hold back. The next sensations were tightness in the fingers Jackson had interlaced with hers and something warm on her arm. She watched, breathless, as his face contorted and his breath stuttered.

  He never broke eye contact with her. Never let go of her hand. Never touched her or himself.

  Almost nothing that she experienced with Jackson was ordinary. But those few minutes, when he breathed both of them into climax, without even the slightest touch, was what the word extraordinary had been invented to describe.

  Three years earlier

  “Come with me, Cam.” Jackson squeezed his hands into fists to hide the shaking. They had gotten past the rough patch when she moved out, but he still felt so unsteady around her.

  “Me? Don’t you have a ton of gala-ready girls who’d be better?”

  He shook his head at the question. “Camille, this is a big deal for me. Maybe the most important night of my life. And it’s because of you. There’s no one I’d rather go with.” Three years out of school, three books later, he had been selected as the youngest recipient of the Golden Pen Award for global impact from a piece of writing. To call it a big deal was a drastic understatement.

  She touched her fingertips to his cheek, unaware of the storm it created in his body. “That’s sweet of you, Jack. But I didn’t do anything. You created all of this for yourself. And you deserve a hundred star-studded evenings to celebrate. I’m just not sure-”

  “I need you there, Camille. I need your support.” And so much more.

  “Okay. I see a fancy shopping trip is in my future.”

  “I can go with you.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her. “No thanks, buddy. I don’t think our styles match.”

  “Our styles?”

  “Well… you like your women a bit more… slutty… than I’m willing to go.”

  His face fell. “That wasn’t very nice, Cam.”

  “Oh, Jack. Don’t be offended. I know exactly who you are. And I still love you to death. Despite your man-whore ways. Now, what was the date again?”

  That first punch landed in his lower stomach, creating a wave of nausea that did not immediately pass.

  * * *

  As Jackson rode in the back of the limo by himself, before picking up Camille, he thought about the series of events that had landed him in that particular situation. The words that would end up changing the trajectory of his life had come from her perfect lips.

  “You should write a book,” she’d said, casually, while they were all cooking dinner together at his Manhattan apartment. But it hit him like a smack in the face. Sure, his academic articles had been getting a lot of attention. And yes, he was a rising star in his profession. But a book seemed out of his league.

  With her encouragement, he took on the challenge. He had never worked harder in his life, finishing up his doctorate and writing a book at the same time. It felt like endless nights of toiling away on his computer. And she was there, with bottomless pots of coffee, pep talks and kicks in the ass, as needed. That’s when she transformed in front of his eyes, from the fragile girl with a tragic past, to the powerhouse woman he fell in love with.

  The first book was followed by a second book, which caught the attention of a few celebrities. When everything blew up with the third book, he knew exactly what the source of his success had been. And that night he was being honored by an organization he had aspired to for most of his life. Everyone looked to him as a rising star, but there was no question who deserved the credit.

  He had decided this was going to be the night he professed his true feelings to her, the night their friendship would become a romance. It was going to be the best night of his life. As he exited the vehicle, Jackson nearly forgot the square box on the seat, and had to turn back to retrieve it. It was a short walk through the courtyard to her apartment. When she opened the door and he got his first look at her, he wished he had taken more time to steady himself. His composure shattered into a million pieces.

  “Camille…” There were no words for the sight in front of him.

  It was as if she wa
s nude, but everything was covered. The sand-colored dress, which perfectly hugged her curves, allowed for just a peek of her ample cleavage, and only a slice of leg, but there was something so sexy about it that all he could imagine was her naked body. The layers of silk and beading and then something sheer on top created the perfect illusion. It was hard to tell exactly what he was looking at, but it stunned him nonetheless.

  “Doesn’t she look amazing?”

  He hadn’t even realized that his sister was standing right next to her. “Cam, you are breathtaking.”

  The top of her chest flushed. “Thanks, Jack. You look great. That suit…”

  Even while he gave his sister a quick hug, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Camille.

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll be going then.” Jenna’s voice pulled them both away from the shared gaze. “You guys have an awesome time. I’ll be checking for photos online.” She gave Camille air kisses on both cheeks, then another hug for him.

  “Knock ‘em dead, Jack. And you know what I mean.” Her whisper into his ear reminded him how much his sister knew about his feelings for Camille. It had been impossible to hide anything from her.

  “Actually, we can all head out together.” Camille picked up her purse and a shawl from the couch.

  “No.” His tone was sharper than he intended. “In a minute.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Sure.”

  When Jenna closed the door behind her, Camille spoke. “Do you want a drink or something?”

  “No. I have something for you. I wanted you to have it before we go.”

  Camille opened her bright eyes wide.

  The black box filled the entirety of his large palm, and he held it out to her. “It’s a thank you. For everything you’ve done for me, for how pivotal you’ve been in my life, for tonight.”

  “Oh, Jack. You didn’t have to get me anything. It’s you we’re celebrating tonight. I was going to wait until later, but since you started…” She turned back and picked up a small, dark bag from the kitchen table.

  “Cam! No way…”

  “Open yours first.” She was doing her happy bounce, which nearly dissolved him. The sight of the extraordinarily elegant woman, vibrating like an excited child, warmed everything under his fitted suit.

  “If you insist.” He put down her box, took the bag from her outstretched hand and pulled out a box that looked very similar to the one he had brought. He was certain it could not contain the same thing. He pulled the large lid open to reveal a watch. His heart beat faster as he recognized every detail. So many years ago, while their dreams were still unformed, he had told her that when he became successful, he would buy himself that watch. She had remembered.

  She was beaming when he finally lifted his head to look at her. “Do you like it?”

  “Cam, this is way over the top. I can’t believe you bought me the Calatrava. I can’t accept this.” He knew exactly how much the watch cost, and even though she was an heiress, she should not have been spending that kind of money on him.

  She lowered her brows. “Don’t you dare Jackson King. Don’t you dare.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’m so damn proud of you. I just wanted you to know that.”

  He rolled it off the velvet cuff, snapped open the clasp and slid it onto his left wrist. Wow.

  She walked over to examine his arm. “It looks great on you. As I expected.”

  “Now, you open mine.” He picked up the square box and put it in her hand.

  He knew she was trying to hide her excitement. That girl loved gifts more than anyone he had ever met. And he loved giving them to her.

  Nothing on her face moved as she looked down into the box. He panicked that something had gone wrong, the piece had fallen out, or slipped underneath…

  “Holy shit, Jackson.” He could see her breath speed up by the movement of her chest. “What…”

  Perhaps she was confused about what it was, so he walked over to her side. “It’s a bracelet. It screamed your name in the store.”

  He tried to catch her eyes, but they stayed focused on the jewelry. The wide band of criss-crossing strands of diamonds reminded him of a piece of lace. He had intended to buy a pair of diamond earrings, but as soon as he saw the bracelet, he knew it was the one for her. Other than her inscrutable paralysis, he was certain he had made the right choice.

  “Here, let me put it on for you.” Still no reaction from her as he slid it off the semi-circular mount and laid it on top of her left wrist. “Cam? You haven’t said anything.”

  She swallowed, then looked up at him. “Jackson, this bracelet… I don’t understand. This is your night.”

  “No, love. This is our night. Now, let me clasp it for you.” His fingers were too big to handle the delicate closures, but she waited patiently for him to find and latch each of the four hooks.

  He had been right. It hugged her wrist as if it had been designed for her. And the weave of the strands was similar to the pattern of her dress.

  “Look at us!” He put his left wrist next to hers to compare their new acquisitions. She dropped her arm.

  “Cam, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m just stunned, Jack. I mean, this bracelet is…”

  “A small token of my… appreciation.” Her words thrown back at her. “You’re my secret sauce, Cam. I just want you to know that I realize it.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Jackson.”

  “I love you, Camille.” You have no idea how much.

  * * *

  As soon as Camille stepped out of the limousine, she silently thanked Jenna for forcing her to do a couple of dry runs with the dress and shoes. Jenna had grown up a debutante and had ample experience with being graceful in any situation. Camille had not. Her shoes were as impractical as they were beautiful, and her dress was cut to her body with not an inch of give. Walking, sitting, and exiting the car each required their own set of pivots, adjustments, and carefully calculated maneuvers.

  She had also mentally prepared to be scrutinized by photographers and media, as well as being completely ignored while they bombarded her now famous best friend. Either way was going to be fine.

  The feathery feel of the bracelet on her arm caught her attention every few seconds. She still could not understand why he would buy her such a gift. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever received, but it did not feel deserved.

  * * *

  She squeezed his arm with each celebrity sighting, which made him fall in love with her even more. It was that juxtaposition of confident assuredness and fearless vulnerability that catapulted her well above anyone else in his life. She was the only one he could say anything to, without fear of judgment or reprisal. She knew all of his secrets except for one: his feelings for her.

  It was painful anytime he had to look away from her, or engage someone else in conversation. But he had to. He worried he was being too obvious. Having her grow suspicious, before they could have a chance to talk about it privately, would ruin the whole plan. Coming clean was going to require every bit of tact and precision he could muster.

  “You can just go ask her out, you know,” Camille whispered into his ear as they swayed on the dance-floor.

  He stopped both of their bodies abruptly. “What are you talking about?”

  “That leggy blonde over there. You keep staring at her.”

  No, I’m just trying not to stare at you. “I’m not staring at her, Cam. And I definitely don’t want her number.”

  “Okay then. But if you change your mind, I’m happy to be your wing man. Just let me know.”

  That punch landed in the center of his chest, making the next few breaths painful and difficult.

  * * *

  Camille tucked herself into the side of his body, resting her cheek on his shoulder, for their long ride home. The soft rhythm of her breath indicated she had fallen asleep. He used the time to review his ultimate plan for the evening. They wou
ld go back to her apartment and he would kiss her. Then he would sit her down and explain all he had kept hidden from her, finally free of the biggest secret of his life. She woke as the limo slowed in front of her place.

  “Oh my gosh, we’re here.” She covered her mouth for a tiny yawn. “Sorry I fell asleep. Must have been all that champagne.”

  He rubbed his thumb in the corner of her sleepy eyes. She pressed her cheek into his palm.

  “Thank you so much for tonight, Jack. It was more fun than I could have ever imagined. I can’t believe I almost didn’t come.”

  “It was a wonderful night.” Jackson steadied himself for what he planned would come next.

  “I know I was just your decoy date, but I felt like Cinderella.”

  The back of his jaw tightened like a fist. “What do you mean by that?”

  “If you ever need another pretend plus-one, you can count me in.”

  She gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car.

  The final punch landed in the center of his throat, making it impossible to say even one more thing.

  * * *

  Camille moved on auto-pilot during all of her bedtime preparations. The intricate hairdo had to be disassembled, her face had to be cleaned, her teeth brushed, and she had to find her way out of the dress. It was only after the covers had completely encased her that she let go of the holding at the top of her abdomen. It had been with her since he gave her that bracelet.

  It was much too easy to fall into Jackson King. He was the perfect man. No one knew that better than she did, having had access to the best of him for years. When she saw his extravagant gift, the fantastical idea of a love story with him pulled her into hope and surrender. Thank goodness he showed himself during the gala by ogling every beautiful woman around him. And there were plenty to look at. Camille caught him staring away from her a hundred times and she needed that reality check. She was not his and he was not hers. At least not in that way.

  Even with all of this crystal clear in Camille’s mind, it caused an ache so profound that she cried herself to sleep.