by Jill Shalvis
She blinked and braced herself by clutching his arms tightly. "That sounds nice," she said, her voice whispery and breathless, making Cam hesitate one last time.
"What is it?" he murmured. "What else is it?"
But she only shook her head. "Come with me," she said in that throaty, sexy voice that could drive a grown man wild. "Please?" Without waiting for an answer, she took his hand and led him outside, her skirt billowing in the gentle breeze. The storm from the day before had vanished, leaving everything sparkling and clean and gorgeous as only the day after a rain could be.
"I'll never forget this day," she vowed with a vehemence that surprised him. "It's beautiful."
"It is." Her hand felt small and fragile in his, and as she led him, he could only see the back of her petite frame. Her urgency, coming on the heels of her hesitation of weeks, seemed out of character. "Haley?"
"Hurry, Cam."
At the front door of the main house, she paused. "Nellie and Jason went to Colorado Springs to shop for the baby." She chewed her lower lip in a gesture he knew to be pure nerves. "Zach went to Tex's ranch to help out with something or other." She stepped inside and twiddled her hands together. "We're alone."
He reached for her. "Alone is good."
"I hope you don't mind, but I have something to show you upstairs."
He followed her, watching the swaying of her narrow hips as she climbed the stairs. There was only one thing now that could ruin this—the unexpected return of his family. "Ah, Haley?" He wasn't worried about himself; he could take the ribbing he knew would be meted out often, especially at the dinner table. But Haley… It would mortify her. "Maybe we should go to your place. Nel's been in a mood ever since the doctor told her she has three weeks left to carry that basketball. Jas won't be able to tolerate her for long."
She only gave him a quick, indecipherable glance and pulled him into his own bedroom. She stopped before his bathroom door, startling him with the mix of emotions he saw in her expression. Hunger and need combined with a strange aura of fear that confused him.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, concerned. "Of this?"
"No."
"Are you sure? Because—"
She laid her finger over his lips. "I'm not afraid of you, Cam. Or this. Well, maybe just a little nervous."
He touched her face and kissed her gently. "If it helps, I'm nervous, too." He smiled past the almost-unbearable ache in his heart caused by his feelings for her. "I've never been someone's first." She smiled, and her lips brushed over his fingertips, causing a surge of blood that pooled in his groin. "I don't want to hurt you, darlin'."
"You won't."
Her faith in him gave him strength, but it also fueled the hunger, the need. "This is just the beginning between us," he promised, stroking her jaw. Beneath his fingers, she paled. "Haley?"
She only shook her head, then reached up and unbuttoned her blouse with trembling hands. "I have no standard formula for this." She pulled the silky material away from her shoulders, revealing the virgin-white teddy she wore beneath. No frills, no lace, just creamy silk and smooth, pale skin. His mouth went dry as one of the teddy's thin straps slipped off her shoulder.
"And no guidelines," she admitted. Her fingers started on the long row of buttons down her skirt. "So instincts and needs are going to have to be enough." She straightened as the skirt fell away from her hips, dropping to a puddle at her feet. "But, if it matters, I've never wanted anything so much in my life." She reached for the other strap of her camisole.
"It matters." If her motions had galvanized him, her words stirred him into action. But, God, that body. She was moving too fast, when he wanted to go slow and savor. He stopped her fumbling fingers by brushing them with his. "Let me." His rough palms slid over the silky camisole, feeling the softness of her skin beneath.
Fascinated, he let his hands roam over her as he dipped his head to seek her mouth. Her body seemed as taut as a wire and he tried to use his hands to reassure as well as seduce, attempting to convince himself that her unnatural stiffness was indeed just nerves. "Darlin'?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounded thick with arousal. "Tell me again that you're sure."
He could feel her force herself to relax. "I'm sure." Her voice was husky. Sexy. Unbearably arousing. "I have to have this, Cam. Have to have you." She yielded against him with a sigh that humbled him to his toes. He understood this was much more than passion on her part; she was giving him her full and unconditional trust.
Her fingers slid up under his T-shirt. As her gaze met his, she brushed them slowly over his chest, moving from side to side, exploring … and just that light touch drove him to a pitch of desire he hadn't known before. He kissed her—long, wet, deep—and she moaned low in her throat, letting her head fall back against the door as he devoured her jaw, her neck. Mindless now, beyond thought, he swept his hands down her sides, then slowly back up, his fingertips teasing the undersides of her breasts.
Her low moan turned into a baffled whimper.
Innocent, he reminded himself. Innocent. And he had her backed to the door, pressed between the hard, ungiving wood and his equally hard, ungiving body.
"Not here, not against the bathroom door," he managed to say, grabbing her restless hands in his. He tried to scoop her up, but she stepped back and opened the door, her eyes naked and vulnerable.
Cam spared her one last curious glance before looking into the bathroom. His breath stopped. Simply stopped.
Lit by the soft glow of scented candles, the bathroom glimmered with shadows. In the center of the room stood his bathtub, filled with steaming water and overflowing with bubbles.
She'd done this for him, recreated the fantasy that had so gripped him last night. His throat tightened.
"Haley." He turned to her, brushed his fingers over her cheek. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful." He could feel her heart pounding against his, could feel the intriguing contrast between the silk of her garment and the smoothness of her skin. "I want you so much." He let his lips wander to the warm, sweet curve of her shoulder. "I've been waiting for this since that first night I saw you."
She arched beneath his hands, making a soft noise of agreement, of surrender, that boiled his blood. Closing her eyes, she fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.
He responded to her desperate urgency by tugging down her other strap and feasting on the skin he exposed one inch at a time. She made another sound, almost a whimper, and arched against him again, and his body answered helplessly in kind.
God, he loved her. "Haley—"
As if she could read his mind, she kissed him fiercely, stiffing his words. "Just this," she begged. "Just this."
Frustrated, he kissed her back, hard. He finally knew how much he loved her—and she only wanted the mindless kind of passion he himself had always sought.
Fine. He'd show her it didn't take words. He lifted her up against him, giving her deep, drugging kisses as he carried her into the bathroom. The candles shimmered and flickered, creating warmth and the sense of intimacy he'd craved to have with her. He'd take it slow, tormentingly slow, and make sure she felt each and every pinpoint of pleasure he could give her. Inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, her skin, he brought his mouth back to hers, teasing her tongue with his, thrilling to each little sound he coaxed from her.
When he finally drew back, she murmured in protest and reached for him. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, pulling his shirt over his head. She stared hungrily at his chest, making him let out a laughing moan. "Come here, darlin'." He ran his fingers lightly down her arms, giving her the shivers. She stared at him wild-eyed as he smiled. "You're so lovely." Slowly, so slowly, he drew the camisole the rest of the way down, watching her face. He could see her confusion, her desire—a heady combination that made it easy to linger and savor, to temper his own need.
When she lifted a hand to cover herself, he bent his head to kiss her fingers, then gently lifted them away. Holding her hands in h
is, he lowered first his gaze, then his mouth to a small, firm breast. Sweet, unbearably sweet, he thought with a groan. He peeled the rest of the silk away, lost in her taste, her texture. Above his head, Haley's breath caught, and she gripped his hair in painful fistfuls.
"Haley, honey, do you like this?" He dragged his tongue over her tightened nipple.
She shivered and tugged on his hair hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Yes. Yes!"
"Good. That's real good." He worked his mouth over her again and then again. She pulled even harder on his abused hair. "Maybe you could loosen your grip a bit, darlin'. Just a bit."
"Oh!" Her fingers released his hair, then slid against his scalp, soothing the area. "Just don't stop," she cried.
He smiled against her breast. "Not a chance." He straightened to undo his jeans, because if he didn't, he was going to do himself serious damage. He watched her watch him, her mouth slightly open, her breath coming in shocked little gasps, and it was unspeakably erotic. Shoving the jeans down his hips, he kicked them aside. Then he lifted her, setting her gently into the steaming tub. Water sloshed over the edges as he sank in after her, smiling when she laughed. Bubbles floated around them, candlelight flickered romantically, and the woman in his arms arched against him as warm, soapy water surrounded their bodies.
Dry, she had been a vision in white. Wet, she was a seductress, demanding long, heated kisses. He gave them to her and more, streaking his mouth over her neck, her shoulders, across her rib cage, tasting the beads of water pearled on her hot skin. She moaned and spread her arms to grip the sides of the tub, the rosy tips of her breasts peeking above the bubbles. "Please," she gasped, then jolted when he once again closed his lips over what she offered up. He scraped lightly with his teeth, and water rained out of the tub as she lurched beneath him, nearly bucking him off.
This was just how he wanted her—mindless and pliant with pleasure. He wanted to send her high into a delirium to mask the pain he knew would come, but he sent them both into ecstasy. He rose to his knees between her legs, and another shower of water hit the floor. Candles hissed and flickered from the rising steam. He skimmed his fingers up her slick thighs and she writhed beneath him, her eyes tightly closed. He loved the small, helpless sounds she made deep in her throat, and wanting to hear more, he caressed and kissed his way down her torso. Though they'd barely just begun, she clawed at the water. "Cam," she whispered in a choked voice. "Cam—"
That sexy voice had desire pumping through him. "Soon, darlin'. Soon." Her skin was so hot and slick. Oh, how he wanted to sink right into her, but he forced himself back, continuing to tease. When he finally allowed his fingers to brush over her and find the core of her heat, she convulsed, then reared up as he lightly tormented that creamy center. Flinging her arms around his neck, her breath sobbing in his ears, she rode his hand, and when she stiffened against him, he swallowed her startled cries as she came. Her head fell back as she gasped for air, limp as a rag doll against his chest.
Shaken, he could barely draw his own breath. The candlelight shimmered over her dripping body. He nuzzled her neck, murmured softly to her as he ran his hands over her back, then took her mouth again. But he'd overestimated his own control. Watching her come undone in his arms had put him on the thin, narrow edge and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. Haley lay before him in the water, stretched out, her eyes tightly closed, every muscle quivering. He'd never seen anything so incredibly perfect.
"There's more," she whispered. "I know there's more."
"Oh, yeah," he assured her. "There's more."
"Show it to me, Cam."
He reached for her, touching her again until she lifted her hips, crying out softly. He positioned himself, holding her up. "Haley." His voice sounded thick and rough, even to his own ears, but with his heart pumping and emotion pouring, he couldn't help it. "Look at me, Haley. Look at me."
Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and clouded with desire. He waited until they cleared and focused on him before he sank into her as far as he could. She gasped softly and opened her legs farther, making needy, husky little noises. "Cam… Please."
"I love you, Haley," he said hoarsely, withdrawing—only to sink into her again, deeper.
She stiffened and let out a strangled cry that tore at him. She tried to pull back, but he held firm, wishing he could absorb her pain. "Give it a minute, darlin', just hold on," he whispered, his own heart in his throat at the thought of it being him to hurt her. He kissed her mouth, her face, her breasts, until he felt her loosen the bruising grip she had on his arms.
She felt so hot, so tight and wet, it took everything he had to stay still. Murmuring softly to her, stroking her rigid body, he moved gently, slowly, wincing when she made a small sound. He went still, and her eyes flew open.
"More."
"But—"
"Cam!" Her hips rose to meet his. She touched him then, and met his steady gaze with such wonder and love in hers, he was lost, so completely lost. Setting the rhythm slow and deep, it was Haley who speeded him up by wrapping her legs and arms around him; she who demanded more, she who brought them to a sudden helpless urgency that he could hardly bear. He could hear the splashing of water, see her lovely wet body shimmering in the unsteady light, feel her clinging to him with a desperation that matched his.
She shuddered beneath him with the thrill of it, the pleasure. There was an unexpected poignancy in this—having her surrender so completely, watching her explode over and over. It had never been like this for him—never. His body thrust into her like iron into velvet, and as she called his name in a dreamy voice filled with dazzlement, he buried his face into her sweet, damp hair and let her shatter him.
* * *
Haley lay still, even though the water had long since gone tepid and most of the candles had burned down to little stubs. She didn't want to move, ever; she wanted to stay drenched in the scent of Cam's skin, feel his heart still thundering against hers.
But reality intruded, and with it came the threat of tears.
How many such moments would they have? She had to leave—and soon. Branson would hunt her down if she didn't show up. He was too organized, too methodical, to let her go. Thank God for this last memory of Cam, she'd treasure it always; but just the thought had an unexpected sob nearly choking her.
Cam lifted his head, made a soft sound of dismay. "I hurt you."
"No," she said quickly. "It's not you."
He stood, clearly unaware of what a picture he made—that tanned, nude body with water sluicing off it to the floor. Bending, he scooped her up against his chest and carried her, dripping wet, to his bed. Covering them with his quilt, he hugged her close and kissed her with a soft, aching tenderness that only brought more scalding tears.
Her wildest fantasy had come true, with greater reality than she had ever thought possible. It had been beyond her greatest dreams, made that way by his love for her—and her love for him.
How could she leave him now?
She would hurt him so badly. He pulled her closer and she could only close her eyes and cry, desperately afraid and so full of sorrow she didn't know how to handle it. But she was strong, and used to such pressure. She would leave, she had to. She couldn't risk the person she loved more than life itself.
"Haley, what is it?" He smoothed the hair back from her face. "Tell me."
His voice was full of pain because he thought he'd done something. One last lie, she promised herself. Just this one last lie to save him. "I always cry when I'm happy."
He tipped his head back to study her face. "Are you hurting?" He shifted as if to get up. "Wait, I'll get you a warm, wet cloth."
But she held him close, preventing his escape, feeling the need to cling. "I'm fine. Great, actually." That much was true. Her body had never felt so deliriously tingly and alive. She hadn't thought she could need so much, or that a man could give so much.
But this man could. Cam had given her that and more. He loved her.
He
framed her face, his own solemn and serious. "You're really okay? Not in too much pain?"
She had to lighten the mood now, or she'd start crying again and never stop. So she smiled and forced a teasing tone. "Are you asking me to rate what just happened? Because if you are, as you very well know, I have nothing to compare it to."
"Try hard," he suggested, narrowing his eyes as he caught her teasing tone. He grabbed her waist and squeezed gently. "Try real hard."
"All right." It was an effort not to giggle at his fierce expression as they lay side by side. She, Dr. Haley Whitfield, lay in bed next to this gorgeous man. Who loved her. She gave in to the luxury and skimmed her hands over his beautiful chest. "Like I said," she said slowly, concentrating on the rippling strength of him. "I have nothing to compare it to— Ouch!" She giggled as he bit her ear. "Okay, okay. It definitely went right off the scale as far as these things go."
He flashed her a very satisfied-with-himself male grin. "Are you sure? Because if you can't really remember, we could, you know … try again." He cocked a brow. "Just to revive your memory, you understand,"
She let her fingers dance over his still-damp spine, marveling at the muscles she felt there. The sight of his lean, hard body seriously hindered her ability to breathe. But the euphoria he'd created dimmed when she looked into his deep brown eyes. The moments she had left with him were numbered and she knew she'd never again feel the sweetness of a time like this.
She'd never again be told how much she was loved, needed, wanted. "You know, you may be on to something," she whispered, meeting his smoldering gaze. "I think you should. Revive my memory, that is."
"Yeah?" He skimmed his hand over the length of her, his eyes following the movement as if he couldn't get enough of her.
"It would be just the thing I need."