Collecting Secrets

by PE Kavanagh

  Her body was the gift that kept giving. Every time he thought he’d found her rhythm, her pattern, another melody was revealed. She bucked her hips, pushed and pulled at his head and shoulders, and called out his name with each round of orgasm. He could have spent the rest of the day enjoying her exquisite body.

  He lifted his head to see her, mouth open, hand cradling her breast, deep, resonant groans vibrating her entire body. She looked down, eyes sparkling and electric. A mischievous grin was followed by a squeeze of her thighs. Before he understood what was happening, she rolled their bodies and mounted him, palms pressing into his chest. Her eyes blazed into him with an intensity that kept him from moving or questioning or breathing. The sensation of entering her - hot, tight, wet - nearly broke his own focus. A burst of desperate need sent a tremor through his body. Decades of mastery exploded into a singular thought: Give her everything.

  Her small hands tightened around his wrists and dragged them above his head. She couldn’t have actually pinned him but that look of feral power transmitted a message that all the cells of his body understood. She stroked the length of him with her whole body, joy coloring her cheeks, breasts bouncing, hair flying. He longed to feel her in his hands and on his mouth, but he let himself be hers to use as she wished. Her panting became groaning and hands moved from his wrists to the nape of his neck. She lifted his head to meet her mouth, and cried out her orgasm into him. Her pulses vaulted him into his own as his hands found her ass and ground her into him.

  Minutes passed before she dropped the weight of her body onto him. The moisture of her skin began to cool and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. A slight roll to one side brought her back onto the bed, a position where he could see her better. With each breath, she softened more and more, the wild ferocity replaced by a fullness and calm he hadn’t seen on her face in too long.

  Jackson willed himself to stay present, stay awake, to watch her as she relinquished her hold and let herself be taken into rest. He’d spent a lifetime mastering the power play between people, understanding the subtle pulls and shifts that communicate command. He’d also known the immense well of power that lay beneath the quiet competence of the woman he loved. When she took control of both their bodies, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her fully tap into it, but it was the first time he understood what it meant to her.

  This was Camille’s declaration. She’d fought her whole life to not be the victim, even when the world around her conspired to make it so. Her powerlessness around the deeds of her father had shaken the entire foundation of her life. Instead of crumbling, she grew stronger.

  He stayed focused while she slept, his mind formulating and creating, his body still so as not to disturb her. He stared at her beautiful face and wondered how he’d gotten it so wrong. Camille Moreau was nothing short of magical. All his assertions and presumptions about who she was and what their relationship would be couldn’t have been further from reality. He didn’t know if he’d missed the signs, all these years, or if she’d never shown him. She defied everything he thought he knew.

  By the time she fluttered her eyes open, his mind had connected so many threads in his own life, he was buzzing with excitement.

  She squinted at him, sleep still in her eyes. “Hey, lover.”

  He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Hi, love. How was your nap?”

  “So very, very good.”

  He brushed the hair from her cheek. “I think you needed that.”

  “Yup.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about some things.”

  She blinked several times. Worry created a small crease between her brows.

  “All good. I promise. So, I know you don’t want to go back into those cases anymore. I don’t blame you. But I think there’s another way to approach restitution. Let’s create a foundation. Put all the money in it. Get even more from donations. And we can donate to legal defense funds for at-risk populations. Or kids. Or whatever.”

  Her face remained emotionless. His mind snapped to all that might have been wrong with his suggestion. “What do you think?”

  “I love it, Jackson. That’s brilliant. But I don’t know anything about foundations or nonprofits or that whole world.”

  “That’s okay. We know two people who do. Ramona and my mother.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck.

  “I have more.”

  She pulled away. “More?”

  “I’ve been thinking about your job. I want to take back my suggestion to stay at Google. I think if getting in on an early stage venture sounds exciting to you, you should do it. You deserve to be the driving force behind something great, the star, not just another cog in someone else’s empire.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, honey. I’ve been thinking about it too.” She took a heavy breath. “It might not be appropriate at this point. I won’t have my financial safety net anymore. I might have to-”

  “Camille, I would really like you to stop thinking that you’re on your own. I know it’s been that way for most of your life, but it’s not that way now. I couldn’t be more willing to be your safety net. Hell, if you wanted to quit altogether and lay on the couch all day, that would be fine with me.”

  Her expression clearly indicated she didn’t like any part of his suggestion.

  “I know you didn’t want to talk about it when we were making plans for the house. But it needs to be clear. I take financial responsibility for us. Completely. If you want to keep your fat-cat salary and whisk me away on sexy getaways, I’m fully down for that. If you want to volunteer teaching girls to code, that’s wonderful. I really mean it when I say I want you to consider our financial future taken care of.”

  “I just don’t understand. Why is this such a hard line for you?”

  He looked toward the abstract painting on the wall before turning back to her. “It’s just something I decided. Long time ago.”

  This jerked her up to sitting. “No way. You don’t do anything without a full analysis. What aren’t you telling me?”

  He didn’t like the squint of her eyes. She was looking right through him. “Why can’t I just want to-”

  “Spill it, Jackson.”

  “It’s what my father did!” Even though his tone was much harsher than he wanted, she didn’t flinch. A small nod greeted him, instead.

  “Tell me more, love. What did your father do?”

  This wasn’t a story he could tell laying down. He propped himself up and took a breath. “My dad was just this poor kid from Newark, New Jersey. My mom’s family owns most of Virginia. Really old money and lots of it. He had to fight against so much to be with her, including claims that he’d never be able to support her. But he decided he would. And he never took a penny of her family’s money. He did it all on his own.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “My aunt Olivia, my mother’s sister-”

  “The one married to the Congressman?”

  “Yeah. She’s never been a great fan of my father’s, but she told me this story as a lesson in integrity. I could see the respect in her eyes.” He caught her gaze. “That’s what I want. That’s the kind of man I want to be.”

  Camille bit her trembling lip.

  He knew exactly what was going on in that brilliant mind of hers: How come he’d never told her this story? “I know what you’re thinking.”

  Everything about her expression softened. “I’m thinking that the person underneath the official Jackson King is a man I find to be remarkable in every way.”

  He couldn’t suppress a surprised smile. “Oh.”

  She wove her fingers through his. “I want to say something… about yesterday.”

  So much had happened in the previous twenty four hours. Most of it wasn’t particularly good. He braced himself. “Yes.”

  “I want to say something… about yesterday.”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened, after your father left, I’m
really sorry. I was so rude at a moment you were being vulnerable and it was terrible of me.”

  Relief coursed through his veins, releasing the knot at the base of his throat. “Actually, I was wrong. It was intense emotional manipulation on my part in a desperate attempt to get a reaction from you. You were struggling and it wasn’t fair or kind of me. I wish I could take it back. That’s certainly not how I want our proposal to go.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, which made him smile. “I’m sure you weren’t surprised that that’s where we’re headed, right?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Well, yes and no. I was surprised at that moment.”

  He nodded. “Understandable. So, even though I’m the one who screwed up, I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance. To do it right. The way you deserve.”

  She pulled his face to her and kissed him until they were both out of breath.

  Six months earlier

  “Do you think he’ll propose?” Jenna stood in front of the wall of mirrors pulling at the bust-line of her newly altered bridesmaid dress.

  “No way. I think Charlie’s more likely to break up with me. I told you - he’s been acting so strange lately. Jealous and angry, but he won’t come out and say it.” Camille frowned at her own garish, ill-fitting dress.

  “Guys are like that. They act all weird when they’re nervous about something. And why would he fly all the way across the country with you just to break up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I guess.” Camille looked at her beautiful best friend, who couldn’t even make a terrible bridesmaid dress look bad. “That looks great on you, by the way.”

  “It’s terrible. And doesn’t fit around the top at all. I’m afraid with one dance move, I’m going to fall right out.”

  “I think mine is too tight around my hips. See how it does that weird thing?” Camille ran her hand across the puckered fabric on her lower belly.

  “Anyway, back to the important stuff. If he asks, what will you say?”

  Camille waited as a saleswoman escorted a bride-to-be to the adjacent fitting area. “I can’t marry Charlie. I love him, the past two years have been fine, but he’s not the one. I thought you hated him anyway?”

  “Yeah, he’s not my favorite. But if he makes you happy, that’s what matters.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true anymore.” Camille huffed out a sigh. Breakups sucked. She didn’t want that either. “Let’s get through this trip to Chicago and the wedding. We can reassess when we get back home.” Maybe this trip would reignite their spark. It had been good… once.

  “Maybe Charlie will bow out before we go, then you’ll be free to scope out all the hot single guys at the wedding. You must remember some of Doug’s friends.”

  “Yes, the groom has some attractive friends. But I’m not even out of this relationship. I don’t need to be thinking about the next one.” Besides, breaking up with Charlie would confirm he had a right to be angry with her.

  “It’s because of my brother, isn’t it?”

  Camille’s head whipped around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “With him satisfying every one of your needs, who needs a boyfriend?”

  “You and I both know that he is not satisfying every one of my needs.”

  “I am completely certain he would. All you have to do is ask.”

  “Jenna, I would more likely sleep with you than sleep with Jackson.”

  Jenna puckered and shrugged. “I’d consider it, Cammy. You’re super hot, a great kisser, and with enough tequila…”

  Camille threw her arms up. “You are impossible!”

  Jenna lunged forward for a hug, dropping both women to the ground in a puddle of laughter and crimson taffeta.

  Now

  Camille closed her eyes and warmed her face in the late afternoon sun. It was a rare, crystal clear day, and the deck of their newly remodeled home might have been the most perfect spot in the whole city of San Francisco.

  When Jackson joined her, bearing two glasses of champagne, she wondered how this was now her life. “I can’t believe you found the glasses, honey.”

  “Aaaah, I packed them in my bag. I didn’t want to chance not finding them in the disarray.”

  Behind them was a house full of boxes, which they would get to, eventually. But their first day back, they chose to make all celebration and no work.

  While Camille melted into the remarkable view, Jackson filled the glasses. “Tell me what you’re thinking, love,” he asked.

  “I’m in awe. The house is even more beautiful than I imagined. All the effort has been well worth it.”

  “I’m so glad you feel that way. I have to say I was worried it wouldn’t compare with the Four Seasons.”

  “We brought all the good things from the Four Seasons with us.”

  “Like our everlasting love? Like our renewed commitment? Like-”

  “Like our new cleaning lady, who has indefinite ‘favorite person’ status from me.”

  “Wow. How easily I’m replaced.”

  “Only for one thing, darling. You are even more terrible than me at keeping house.”

  “Which says something.”

  She slapped his arm and gave him a pretend scowl.

  “Stealing Saskia away from the hotel was merely one of your numerous, consistently brilliant ideas.”

  “I think having an orderly space will go a long way in maintaining my mental health.”

  “Whatever you want is yours, my love.”

  She beamed at him, still incredulous about all they’d been through. “These past five months have been crazy.”

  “To say the least. With the small renovation that ended up being a whole house remodel, the drama with my family, then your family…”

  “Not to mention us living on top of each other in my cottage.”

  “There are much, much worse things than living on top of you, my darling.”

  She grinned at her sexy man. “We did pretty well, didn’t we?”

  “I’m sure each of my siblings were taking bets about how long it would take for you to throw me out. But I loved every minute, Cam. I can’t imagine having survived this summer with anybody else by my side.”

  “How do you like the house?”

  “I loved the house before. But you’ve managed to create something I love even more. It’s kind of like how I feel about you. I don’t know how it’s possible that in these months, facing nearly every stress a couple can face, I’ve grown to love you even more. What we had before was nothing, like puppy love.”

  Camille swallowed a lump in her throat. “I feel the same way. I’m excited to start our lives together, here in our amazing home. It’s like a dream come true, really.”

  He reached out and took her hand, something serious darkening his expression. “Cam, I want your life to feel like a dream, for you to feel like you are the most loved woman on the planet.” He paused to touch his lips to the top of her hand. “From the very beginning, you’ve given me everything I wanted. You said yes to being my friend, and then my best friend. You said yes to my family, needing to possess you. You said yes to being my lover,” his voice cracked, “and then yes to creating a home with me.” His face reddened. “There’s one more thing I’m hoping you will say yes to.”

  Camille’s heart knew what was happening well before her mind made sense of the movement of his hand into his pocket, and the retrieval of something out of it. She had almost forgotten about that day, in the depth of her darkness, when she’d first seen that small velvet box.

  “Camille Annalise Moreau, will you marry me?”

  There was no question. “Of course, Jackson. Yes. I will.”

  When he slipped the ring onto her finger, she held her breath. The large diamond caught a ray of light and sparkled, breaking through the clouded view of her tear-filled eyes. Her hand, shaky and heavy, settled onto his open palm.

  She pulled her gaze from the polished platinum band and single emerald-cut stone - a simple,
elegant design that exactly matched her vision of the perfect ring. His face beamed, molten chocolate eyes clouded by their own tears.

  Camille had known, for a long time, that it would be forever with Jackson King. Well before rings, and houses, and romantic dates, and dance lessons. She’d known from the moment he looked at her across the table, those eyes speaking directly to her heart, that he was the one.

  And that secret, she’d kept for a very long time.

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  THANK YOU

  Dearest Reader,

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  I hope you enjoyed Camille and Jackson’s remarkable love story. If you'd like to share your thoughts about the book with others, I’d be delighted for your review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews support independent authors!

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  If you can't wait to find out what happens next, with their friends and families, I've included an excerpt of Coming Home, the next book in the Friends & Lovers Series.

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  Thank you again, and I hope to see you soon between the pages of my steamy love stories.

  GRATITUDES

  As with most of the stories that consume me, this one held a firm grip. Jackson, Camille, their families and friends fought for my attention, resulting in the first three books of the Friends & Lovers Series. They are characters who’ve succeeded and failed in equal measure, and whose yearning to be seen and heard and loved stole my own heart.