by Xio Axelrod
"Little brother?" Yara frowned, confused.
"Pierce is seven minutes older." Rory chuckled. "Never lets Cam live it down."
Cam grunted. "So much for the old saying with age comes wisdom."
Pierce smacked his brother on the back of the head, but Cam didn't even flinch.
At that moment, when they were bantering back and forth, Yara could see the resemblance. And since it was a Saturday, Pierce was dressed down for the weekend. His expensive suits had been swapped out for expensive jeans and what looked like a ten-dollar tee that had probably cost five times as much.
Cam's twin evidently enjoyed the money they earned at Skin. Yara wondered why his brother's life seemed frugal, not only in comparison but in reality.
His plain, white t-shirt probably cost five dollars, and his Levi's were well-worn. Cam's condo, while spacious, well-appointed and in a trendy part of town, was almost utilitarian compared to their office. Even the pub was opulent by comparison.
And then there was Rory with his flannel shirt, utility kilt, hipster beard, and shock of dark brown hair that seemed to have a will of its own. Yara wondered which way his tastes fell.
The three of them made up quite the picture.
Pierce walked over to where Yara sat and crouched down in front of her.
"Hey."
She frowned down at him. It was as close to her as he'd ever come.
"Uh, hey."
He nodded as if settling some internal debate.
"I'm sorry we had a hand in this. I was wrong to take on Kaine as a client. I should have listened to Cam. He's a pain in the arse, but he's a pretty decent judge of character."
"You guys make a good team."
"Don't know what I'm going to do without him, but don't tell him I said so." He smiled, but there was genuine sadness behind it. Disappointment, even.
"Why did he leave?" She couldn't help but ask. "Did he say?"
Pierce's eyes widened. It was only a fraction and only for a split second, but Yara saw it.
He leaned in and lowered his voice.
"You're a Philly girl. Are you sticking around after all this is done?"
The question took her by surprise. Yara hadn't allowed herself to think that far ahead. She just wanted to settle this mess, once and for all. Then she thought she'd deal with the aftermath, whatever it was.
Philadelphia was home, always had been and always would be, but she didn't know if she'd stay there or head out to L.A. to try and make it on her own. She just knew she'd never step foot in Miami again. New York either, probably. Pretty much anywhere with the stench of Marcus Kaine on it.
"I don't know what I'm going to do, honestly."
Pierce seemed disappointed by her answer. Before she could ask why, he spoke.
"My brother doesn't stick his neck out for people often. Not this far, anyway. He's put a lot of trust in you, barely knowing you."
"So have I," she admitted.
"Yeah, about that. Why?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Ask him the same thing and get back to me."
"Thing is, though, he's been...invested in your case since we first took it on. You just met us, him, a few days ago."
"Are you warning me off?"
He laughed. "God, no. I'm trying to warn you on if that's a thing. I think you and my brother might be good together. I teased him about you before, but now that you're here I get it."
"Get what?"
"What he saw in you from the start."
Pierce smiled, and he looked so much like Cam that her pulse sped up.
"What are you saying?"
He took a deep breath. "Honestly, I don't know. Only...if you feel the same pull that he does, maybe you stick around a bit and see where it goes?"
Yara laughed. "Wow."
"Too much of an ask?"
"No, just unexpected."
Pierce stood and smiled down at her. "What can I say, I love the asshole. I want him to be happy. And I haven't seen him smiling nearly as much as he has since you showed up in his damned pub."
Yara looked past him and over to Cam who caught her gaze.
He smiled.
It was private, telling. Inviting. And Yara didn't know what the hell to do with it.
Ten
Back at his condo, Cam felt anxious and out of sorts.
Yara had barely spoken to him since they'd shared that scorching kiss in his office. He was second-guessing himself.
He'd spent weeks getting to know her ghost, and now he had the real thing. To him, she was an old friend. To her, he was a stranger. And yet she'd kissed him with just as much passion as he'd given.
That had to mean something.
The four of them had grabbed a bite to eat after working through the afternoon. Things were coming together for the case against Kaine. It was damning, enough to send to New York's district attorney. Yet, all of his victims, including Yara, wanted to stay out of the courts. Out of the papers. And Cam couldn't blame them, though he wished they'd change their minds. A guy like that deserved jail time.
If they couldn't put Kaine's feet to the fire outside the system, Cam would have to convince the women to come forward officially. For their sake, he hoped it didn't come to that. They'd all been through enough.
He and Yara were back on the floor in his living room.
She'd changed into Jo's yoga pants and had borrowed another one of his t-shirts, this time Interpol. The sight of her in his clothes, in his home, gave him dangerous ideas. He was a big part of why she was in this mess. He had no right to look at her, much less feel for her anything other than guilt. And a determination to do right by her.
And yet he couldn't get that kiss out of his head.
She'd burned him with it. He could still taste her on his tongue and fuck if he didn't want a whole lot more.
Cam had to scrub the memory of it out of his head. Of how she tasted and sounded. Of how she'd clung to him, all soft curves and scorching heat.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Spying a deck of cards on the side table, he grabbed them. Apparently, there had been nothing on TV, since Yara switched to a music channel. Reggae, sultry and smooth.
As if the air between them wasn't already too overcharged for comfort.
Cam was desperate for a distraction.
"Do you play?" He set the deck on the coffee table.
"Not really." She sat yoga-style, facing him.
He frowned. "Not even Blackjack?"
"Is that the one where you need to get twenty-one without going over?"
Cam grinned and opened the deck. "I knew you were a shark."
That earned him a small smile. Miracle of miracles. Yara was beautiful, but when she smiled, she took his breath away.
"Hardly. But go head. Deal."
He did, first shuffling the cards in a way people had always found impressive. Yara covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. Okay, then.
He dealt a hand and placed the deck on the table.
Yara slid her cards off the table and into a practiced hold. She barely glanced at them before holding them against her chest.
He tried hard not to follow the path of that hand, so close to her tempting flesh.
"Need a hit?"
"No." She gave him a slight shake of her head. "I'm fine where I am."
"Alright." Cam took a look at his cards, a seven of hearts and a king of clubs. Hmm. Tricky. But he figured she had at least eighteen, if not twenty-one, so he took a hit. Another king.
"Damn." He threw his hand onto the table.
"Beginner's luck," Yara said, sliding her cards to the bottom of the deck without showing them to him.
"Not going to show me your hand?"
She met his gaze. "Why should I? I won, no matter what you had."
"Fair point." Cam reshuffled and dealt another hand.
Again, Yara slid them toward herself, took a peek, and hid them against her body.
Cam mimicked her, taking a peek at his own cards - a five of diamonds and
a ten of clubs.
"Hit?"
Again, Yara shook her head. She picked up her glass and took a sip of the wine they'd poured when they got in, her gaze in his the whole time. Her eyes revealing nothing.
"I'm getting suspicious."
"About?" There was another smile as she set the glass down on the table.
"Either I'm a shit dealer, or you have the best poker face I've ever seen."
"Could be both."
He nodded. "Could be."
Cam plucked a card from the top of the deck. A five of clubs. Twenty was a good number to stand on. He placed his cards on the table.
Yara's expression didn't change, save for a slight quirk of one perfectly arched eyebrow as she looked down at his cards.
"You win."
Again, she slipped her cards into the pile without showing them to him.
It made sense, though. She didn't give him much, hadn't since the night they met. Not willingly, anyway. When she wasn't looking, wasn't on guard, he caught a lot. And she'd showed him nearly everything in that kiss.
Like how alone she must have felt, being isolated from her friends and family. From just about everyone she knew.
There were moments when he thought he'd seen the remnants of a tear on her cheek, and he'd wanted to go comfort her. Had wanted to take her in his arms and give her reassurances that everything would work out.
Kaine would release her from her bogus obligations, give her the money he owed, and she'd get her life back. Her career too, if she wanted it.
He wasn't sure she did.
"Tiebreaker?"
Cam stirred from his musings. "O'course."
He shuffled the cards under Yara's watchful eye.
"How long have you been in the States?" She took another sip from her glass.
"Ten years permanently, though I was here before that."
"Came for school, or...?"
"Yeah, initially. Pierce and I went to Penn. Went back home after we graduated, but decided to come back here to live."
"And where is home?"
"Philly is home, but we're from Glasgow."
Yara seemed to let that sink in. "You like it here, then?"
Cam nodded. "Love it."
"Why here, though? Why now New York or L.A.? Philly is small to most people."
"I'm not most people, and it's huge compared to Glasgow. Besides, it's a fairly big city in its own right, and yet it feels like a small town sometimes. I like the duality of it."
A thoughtful look softened her features. "I've never thought about it that way."
"You grew up here, right?"
She nodded. "Just outside the city, in Ambler. But my misspent youth was all here."
Cam snorted. "Misspent."
Yara arched an eyebrow. "What, you don't think I was a wild child?"
"You're still a child, but no. You weren't. From everything I've read, you were a bookworm. You loved your music, but it was nothing like what the world knows Yara for."
She eyed him for a long moment, and Cam realized what he'd just said. Shit.
"You ran a pretty thorough background check on me, eh?"
He met her gaze. "Something I should have done in the beginning."
The fire in her eyes dimmed a bit, and Cam was sorry for that. He liked her spark. A lot.
"Why didn't you?" She pulled the deck of cards toward her and idly shuffled through them.
"I ask myself that every day. Have yet to find the answer."
She nodded, tossing the deck on the table. "I'm tired."
"Okay." Cam watched her stand, trying to think of a reason to keep her there.
"You want me to take the couch tonight?"
He gave her an incredulous look.
She smiled. "Just thought I'd ask. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Yara."
Cam couldn't sleep. Couldn't shut his mind off. Kaine. Yara. Yara. Kaine. It was a bloody roller coaster. Finally, he got up and crept quietly past his bedroom door to the bathroom, careful to turn on the light after he closed the door.
Yara needed her sleep.
He used the toilet, washed his hands, and splashed cold water on his face before drying off and flipping off the light.
When he opened the door, Yara was there.
She stood in the open doorway of his bedroom. Dressed in a pair of his boxers and one of his tank tops, her hair was down. It fell nearly to her waist, and Cam sucked in a breath because, fucking hell.
Fucking hell.
Her eyes shined in the dim light, almost iridescent. He felt himself falling into them, wanting things he shouldn't. Worse, he saw the same need in her as she licked her lips. Her breaths coming in quick pants.
"I can't sleep," she said.
"Neither can I."
"You kissed me in your office."
He nodded. "You kissed me back."
She looked down and then away. "When we got home, you just...pretended like that didn't happen."
Home. That word falling so easily from her lips did things to him. Christ.
She met his gaze. "Is it because you regret it?"
"Do you?"
She shook her head slightly. "No. Do you?"
"I should, but..."
"But?" Jesus, the hope in her eyes threatened to bowl him over.
Cam took a breath because this needed to be said.
"I told you I've spent a lot of time reading about you, learning about you."
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Are you a Star Trek fan?"
Yara frowned, a tiny line creased the smooth skin between her eyes. "What?"
Cam took a step closer. "I’m a bit of a nerd, you see.”
He smiled at her answering grin.
“There's an episode of Next Generation where Geordi falls in love with the holographic representation of a woman he's never met. And in a later episode, he meets the real woman, and she's nothing like the hologram."
Yara blinked. "You're worried I'm not like the Yara you've built up in your head."
Cam took another step. "That's the thing."
He reached out, slowly to give her a chance to move away. She didn't.
"You're so much more. More full of life. More beautiful. More...everything."
Her breath hitched when his hand slipped into her silken hair.
Jesus, she felt like heaven.
A shiver passed over her. "Cam."
"Hmm?" He'd gotten lost in the feel of the silken strands slipping between his fingers, the way the dim light played in them.
"If you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to lose my shit."
He laughed, finding her eyes with his.
She smiled.
Then he took her mouth the way he'd wanted to all along.
Eleven
Yara sank into the kiss. Let it wash over her and through her and, oh...his hands were everywhere. In her hair, on the curve of her waist. He was holding back, that much she could tell, and she didn't want him to.
Yara opened to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body into his, molding her soft curves to his hard planes.
Cam growled low in his throat, and the sound of it hit straight between her legs. She ached for him.
Big hands cupped her ass, lifting, and Yara wrapped her legs around him. He walked them into his room, and they sank down into his king-sized bed.
The kisses were hot, wet, soul-consuming. Yara couldn't get enough.
He nibbled her chin and licked his way down the column of her throat as she arched into him, seeking more contact.
"Fuck," he breathed.
Yara's legs fell open around his thighs, and he pressed one against her core. Shocks of pleasure shot through her, and she cried out into the kiss. He groaned, breaking it.
"Tell me you want this. Want me."
"God, yes."
"Yara..."
As desperate as she was for him, Yara loved that he took things slowly.
Cam nibbled at her lips, breathed he
r in, and licked a trail down her neck, down and down to where his tank top dipped between her breasts. His breath was hot against her skin.
He shocked her by taking one cotton-covered nipple into his mouth.
Yara gasped, arching off the mattress, and Cam's arm slid under her back. He held her to him, sucking the hardened flesh into his mouth until she thought she might climax from that alone.
The sounds he made, the possessiveness of his caress, it was a lot to process.
Yara brought one thigh up around his waist, and he sank on top of her, grinding against her sex.
"Oh, Jesus," she exclaimed, unable to hold it in. "Cam, if you don't stop..."
He slid the hand behind her back down to her ass and pulled her up into his body. The thick ridge between his legs hit her just right, over and over, and she let go. Yara cried out in a voice she'd never heard before, his name spilling from her lips as waves of pleasure washed over her.
"Yes," Cam hissed, pulling the tank top over her head and off before her aftershocks had even begun. His mouth found her nipple again. With nothing between his wicked tongue and her flesh, it was sensory overload.
Thank God his shirt was already off.
When she'd opened the bedroom door and seen him standing there in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, her brain had ceded all control of her body to parts south. The shorts rode low on his hips, giving her an unobstructed view of the carved V below his eight-pack.
His tattoo-covered eight-pack.
The tattoos didn't surprise her, or shouldn't have. She'd expected him to have several. But these were intricate, delicate. Beautiful. Sprawling Celtic scrolls lay next to Egyptian-inspired birds. Every one of them a story she wanted to delve into. Later. Much later.
For now, she lightly raked her nails across his skin, earning her the growl she was quickly coming to crave.
His tongue was everywhere.
Between her breast, circling her navel, tracing a wet line across the waistband of the thin, cotton boxers.
"Need these off," he ground out, and Yara lifted her hips. "Good girl."
The praise lit her up like the fourth of July. There was something about this guy that just did it for her, on so many levels.
Before she knew it, she was bare beneath him. Above her, Cam just stared.
"Christ in heaven..."