His to Seduce

by Stacey Lynn

The quiet, glittering echo of his words rang through me like a resounding gong. Banging and crashing.

  My jaw fell open and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He gave me everything so easily.

  I was falling for him.

  I cared about him more than any man I’d ever been with before. More than I ever thought possible.

  “Your scar. What happened to you?”

  He snapped me back to the present like the flick of a rubber band.

  “I can’t…”

  “You don’t want to.”

  “Why are you making me? Why are you doing this? We were doing so well…”

  “Because I love you,” he repeated. “And I know you feel it, too. And I want all of you.”

  And damn it, he was right. About all of it.

  “I can’t be in this alone,” he said, his voice thick with pain I knew I was causing and didn’t seem able to stop. “When you pushed me, I caved. Why can’t you do this for me?”

  “I…” Three simple words. They lodged in my throat and I rubbed the burn with my hand on my neck. I wanted to say them. I felt them. I knew I did. I had stronger feelings for David than I had ever felt for anyone.

  Fear froze me, slammed down between us like a clear sheet of glass. You couldn’t see it, but as his hopeful expression turned to pain, it was thick and obvious between us.

  “You don’t have to say it back.”

  I couldn’t. Would I ever be able to? In my panic, I saw Trenton all over again, walking away because I couldn’t do what he needed me to, couldn’t open up.

  “I…” Why couldn’t I speak? A whirlwind rushed around me, sucking me into a vortex.

  In front of me, David stepped back. A foot that felt like a mile as his hands fell to his sides. He’d pursued me steadfastly, given me time, and I could see it in his expression as he took another step back: everything was in my court now. I hated the distance but couldn’t reach out to pull him back. “I’m sorry…I have to go,” I said.

  “Don’t.”

  “I have to, I’m sorry.”

  “Cam, this doesn’t change things. I scared you, but all you have to do is know I love you. I didn’t say it to hear it back; I said it because I felt it.”

  My trembling hand swiped across my mouth. Kiss by kiss, he’d torn down my walls. Panicked breath by panicked breath, they were going up again without my being able to stop it.

  “Why does this scare you?” He reached for me, and I let him. I let him place tender hands around my shoulders, curve along my biceps, and grip me tightly but gently at the same time. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Everything. Nothing. I had given him as much as I could, and it still wasn’t enough.

  Tears burned my eyes and the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe, hard to see him.

  I was hopeless. This…this inability to truly be free. It paralyzed me and killed me, and I couldn’t stop it.

  “Goodbye, David.”

  He scowled, fingers digging into my flesh like a warning. “You mean good night.”

  I didn’t. I’d seen this moment before. I’d lived it before, yet it hadn’t caused the intense pain that went straight into my ribs when it happened before. It didn’t matter. This was the beginning of the end.

  When I didn’t answer, his hands went to the back of his head and he groaned. “Wow. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes and filled them, making it difficult to see him, but I’d gone too far to go back now.

  I should have known. All my bullshit ideas about moving on stalled with a simple question.

  With my head bowed to hide my tears, I scurried past him and to the bedroom, where I’d left my clothes and purse. I quickly gathered everything, tossing the clothes into the bag I’d brought for the weekend. A weekend that had been perfect and beautiful and full of sex and freedom and laughter and the hope of a future I’d always wanted but was never brave enough to reach for.

  David had given me all of that, though. Every single moment, and then he’d crushed it with three little words and the realization of my own inadequacies.

  I zipped my bag and turned to leave, only to immediately freeze in my tracks when David was at the doorway, blocking my exit.

  God. Why wouldn’t he let me go? Why did he keep trying to fight a losing battle?

  His hands gripped the edges of the doorframe, white-knuckling the wood like he was resisting the urge to pummel something.

  Or someone.

  Who could blame him? He’d bared his soul and I’d slammed down a wall.

  “Please let me leave,” I said, still frozen to my spot.

  “Tell me what happened. Tell me why you don’t want to talk about it. Tell me something real, Camden. Then I’ll let you leave.”

  “I’ve told you real.”

  “You’ve told me half-truths and avoided anything that’s truly real, that deep, burning-feeling-in-your-gut kind of real. You hide it from everyone. You close yourself off, and yet you let me in. I want to know: why me? And why are you shutting me out now?”

  I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and forced my feet to push me forward. “Let me go.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  He jerked back. His hold on the door, unyielding, snapped him back. “No?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You don’t want to. You’ve buried so much truth for so long you don’t know how to begin, but you can give it to me. You can trust me with it.”

  “Why are you pushing this?”

  “I’ve told you. Because I love you and I want you to be free from whatever clings to you. That’s what people do for the people they love—they help them live free.”

  My skin itched. Blood surged through my veins in indignation. My teeth ground together so hard I thought I might snap them all.

  “Move.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “No!” I shouted so loudly it rang in my ears. God, I was dying. He was killing me and he was unrelenting. Why did he waste so much time on me?

  He leaned forward and bellowed, “Tell me!”

  “I was almost raped!” The words flew from my throat, scratchy and rough and in a voice so unrecognizable, I snapped my head around, searching for who had shouted my truth for me.

  Blood drained from David’s face and his hands fell from the door. “What?”

  Oh my God. What had I done? Squeezing my eyes closed, my body quaked with the realization that voice had been mine. And I’d shouted it. I’d revealed my shame.

  “What?” he asked again and stepped toward me, slowly, calmly, his blue eyes cloudy with shock.

  I shook my head and took a trembling step backward. My knees shook so violently, I kept moving until I collapsed at the edge of the bed, unable to hold myself up.

  As David moved closer, I threw up my hands and stopped him. “Don’t.”

  “Camden…”

  I heard the pity, saw it in his eyes. I’d never wanted him to know. Had never wanted him to see that side of me.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  I looked away, tears coming so thick and heavy they fell to my lap, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. “Why are you making me do this?”

  “Because it hurts now, but the only way to get better is to talk about it.”

  “I don’t want to.” I swiped a hand across my face.

  He reached out for me and I flinched, shoulders tightening to my ears, and pulled away. “Will you let me hold you?”

  I said nothing. God, I wanted it. And I didn’t. I wanted to be alone.

  Memories rushed back to me. The box I’d kept them so deeply buried in burst open with the admission I’d shouted and now nothing could stop them.

  The pain, the fear, the terror and the blood and the running and the screaming…all of it made me quake, and I barely recognized it when the weight of him dipped the bed next to me.

  His arms folded me to his chest as I sobbed violently, te
ars soaking both of us, and I lost the energy to pull away.

  I lost the energy to fight.

  Finally, after sixteen years of running and hiding and fighting everything that day brought forth in me, I surrendered.

  —

  The room was dark when I peeled my eyes open. I blinked harshly, trying to wet my eyes and erase the sandpaper feeling, and rolled over. I was in David’s bed, in his bedroom, and I was alone. On top of me, a soft blanket I’d seen draped over a chair in the corner of the room covered my body, tucked tightly around me. I must have fallen asleep on top of the covers.

  I couldn’t remember falling asleep. I could only remember thinking of everything about that day when Evan had forced himself on top of me. All of it had flown through my mind, but while I’d been completely devastated, sobbing with despair and the pain of admitting what had happened to me, what had irrevocably changed me, David had held me.

  Eventually, he had lain on the bed next to me, pulling me down with him, and I didn’t have the energy to fight it.

  I pushed myself to sitting and looked around the room.

  The sight of David sitting in that corner chair made me gasp and jerk back in shock.

  “You’re awake,” he said. Elbows propped on splayed knees, his hands fell between them. “How do you feel?”

  I cleared my throat. “Rough.”

  “I’m sorry I pushed you that hard. I shouldn’t have…I should have respected your need for privacy.”

  He was apologizing to me? I shook my head to clear it.

  I opened my mouth to tell him his apologies were pointless. Pressing my hand to my throat, I rubbed it, warmed it so I could tell him.

  Everything.

  He looked out the window, refusing to look at me again.

  A chill spread through my body, and I knew. It was too much for him. My past too heavy to hold, to take on.

  “I’ll leave you alone. It’s late, but whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you back home.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry I was a dick, Cam. You don’t need that. I just—shit, I’m so sorry. I knew it was big, but I couldn’t have guessed that, and no one deserves to be pushed into talking about that unless they want to.”

  He stood, pushing his hands down his jeans, and groaned. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready. Or I can call you a cab.”

  As he turned his back on me, I couldn’t let him feel like that. None of that had been his fault. Not really. I’d been the one hiding secrets when I forced him to tell me his.

  The truth wouldn’t come no matter how hard I tried to speak.

  Then I was left with the back of David’s body, his slow but sure strides taking him away from me.

  And everything I’d thought I’d been feeling tilted and crashed to the ground.

  David

  I’d pushed too hard. I’d pushed too fast.

  And when she shattered, losing herself in her grief and her past, I could only think of one person.

  Gavin Merryfield. I’d destroyed him with words and my inability to heal his wife.

  I’d just done the same to Camden. I hadn’t used a scalpel but I’d dug just as deep, and when she woke up after wearing herself out with body-racking sobs, she’d looked skittish and full of shame and full of destruction.

  I’d forced her to face it. To relive it.

  But I had the choice to not continue hurting her.

  I wasn’t walking away. Only stepping away.

  At some point, she had to decide whether I was the worth the risk.

  It would kill me to take her home, to give her that choice, but I’d been selfish and needy.

  I was still being selfish…I was thinking about me. I needed to know she felt the same about me.

  But she had to do it in her own way, in her own time, without my pushing and shoving.

  Chapter 31

  Camden

  I’d turned into a woman I didn’t recognize. I’d turned into a woman with strong emotions, and every day without David made them spin out of control. Somehow along the way, I’d fallen so hard and so deep for him, I’d become Paige, where I actually imagined happily ever afters for people like me. I’d started believing that love conquers all bullshit and that hope comes in the morning. I started to hope Paige’s whispers of princes that bring princesses back to life with a kiss could be a reality…that David could be my prince and rescue me from the evil monster lurking in my shadows.

  It was bullshit.

  The only thing falling in love did was rattle me and leave me on uncertain footing. It shook me to my core, made my throat hurt and my eyes puffy. It meant using eye drops to hide the sandpaper feeling left by too many tears.

  A heart shouldn’t hurt so much just because of someone else. It was unnatural.

  I’d do anything to fix it except be honest. He’d walked away and dropped me off a week ago and I hadn’t heard a word from him, except for his quiet parting shot that made me question everything.

  “I love you, Camden. Whatever else you think right now, know that. And when you’re ready, come to me. I’ll be here.”

  Even in the distance, he was being patient. Waiting. At night I imagined David in his bed, his cheek resting on a pillow next to him and inhaling a whiff of the scent of my shampoo. I imagined him longing.

  Then I woke up, screaming from nightmares that should have been vanquished a decade ago, and it was all hopeless.

  Running became a chore, no longer my solace, no longer a goal to meet, and when race day had come last week, I’d punked out and didn’t go. Everything I loved seemed darker when David wasn’t around to make me laugh. I didn’t know how much I’d come to love the softness of his touch running through my hair, how much that rainbow of colors on his wrist from stolen hair ties made me smile, until I woke up without that visual reminder close by.

  I didn’t want to live without him…

  But when was I ever going to be able to flay myself wide open and let him see the ugliest parts of me?

  And how long would he wait for me to get to that place?

  —

  I spun a slow circle, jaw-dropping beauty everywhere around me. Chelsea’s new home, to which Aidan had given her keys last week, was majestic and everything she’d always wanted.

  “I still can’t believe he built a house for you.”

  She nudged my shoulder with a soft smile. “Us. He built us a house. Bigger than we’ll ever probably need, but I’ll take it anyway because it comes with Aidan.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes and I tried fruitlessly to shake them away. “How do you do it? How do you go through all the hard things you’ve faced and still smile?”

  “Silly girl.” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in tight. Other than Suzanne, Chelsea was the best friend I’d ever had. She put up with my neurotic lists and plans and my doom-and-gloom personality with a smile and tinkling laughter. The last few months had been hard on her after she watched Aidan’s son die and then watched Derrick’s best friend spiral downward, but somehow she’d survived with smiles and hugs for everyone, while helping Aidan past the worst of it, just by being herself—full of goodness and kindness and undying hope at every turn.

  “You do it because there’s too much life has to offer. I do it because I’ve always hoped that someday I’ll be given everything I ever wanted.”

  Her chin wobbled as she spoke, and we both knew what she was thinking about. The four bedrooms upstairs. She and Aidan were moving in immediately, and both of their houses were for sale. Once they sold, they’d claim the largest bedroom with the most gorgeous soaking tub I’d ever seen. The other three bedrooms would most likely remain empty, since Chelsea knew the possibility of her ever having children was a stretch.

  How she maintained hope, I had no idea, and even now, with her chin shaking and tears pooling, she was still smiling.

  “Have I ever told you you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met?” I asked.

  “Have I ever tol
d you that I think you’re stronger than any of us?”

  I spun on my heels and looked out the windows through her dining area. Large, open windows with a view of rolling land and trees in the distance. It was all the land she’d always wanted, with the kind of guy she’d always dreamed of. And somehow, she still held on to some damn kernel of hope that all the bedrooms upstairs would be filled.

  How could I possibly be stronger when I was still running?

  “I understand why you hold yourself back, you know.”

  Stunned at her words, my back pulled tight and I twisted back around to face her.

  “What?”

  She shot me a look full of chagrin and remorse. “Sophomore year of college, we were all out at a bar, and you were back at the dorms, studying. I don’t remember why, but that night it bothered us that we were partying and having fun and you always refused to join us.”

  “I had a scholarship to maintain.”

  “I know.” She shrugged and stepped closer. A step filled with caution that sent warning flares to my nerves. “But it still bothered us, and well, Suzanne was drunk. Really drunk. She told us what happened to you and then swore us to secrecy.”

  Blood rushed from my face and I stepped backward, away from my friend. Away from Chelsea, who had known about Evan for years and never said a word? Or Paige? How could Suzanne say something and then not tell me? How could none of them say anything?

  “I…” I couldn’t speak. Betrayal and anger suffused my veins and made that warning flare burn bright.

  “It was so long ago,” Chelsea explained, staying far away from me. “And I’m so sorry, but you never talked about it. For years, I had hoped you would, that you’d trust us enough with all the parts that made you you. After Cory left me, I finally realized that it wasn’t about trust with you; it was just you never wanting to admit it.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “I get it,” she said. “I do, in a way that many others might not, because I feel my own shame. It was the hardest thing to do to admit I might not be able to give a man a family someday, that in the end, that was really why Cory left, because I was just half a woman and he wanted a whole, working one.”

  “Chelsea—” Cory was an asshole. He left because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He didn’t deserve Chelsea in the first place.