by Lauren Wood
I nodded. “You’re right. I should have. But you know I’m not good at these kinds of things. No one is. That’s why we’re all lonely or in miserable relationships.”
She jerked her hand away from mine. “So, that’s what this is all about? Just another one of your schemes to prove your jaded point on love?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do. But then again...I don’t really have to try. This just happens naturally to everyone. It’s the way it all works out sooner or later. I’ve been trying to tell you…”
“You know, Mark.” She sighed. “While you’re hell-bent on not getting hurt again, you’re hurting a lot of other people in the process. Did you ever think that maybe...deep down, you’re less afraid of what happens if you get burned again...and more afraid of what will happen if it actually works out with someone?”
Before I could say anything else, she pulled away and started for the door. Everything inside me wanted to take off after her, but her words hit me with a force that I needed a moment to recover from. I was used to women storming off from me just like that, but why was it so much harder to let her walk away, even if I knew it was the right thing to do?
I sat there and finished my drink, mulling over her words. How did this happen to me? The more I thought about it, I really was becoming pathetic. Spending all my spare time trying to rain on everyone else’s parade. Maybe Camille was right. Why couldn’t I just leave everyone alone? Even if I didn’t believe love was real.
I decided that for all the trouble I’d caused, the least I could do was agree to put this charade to an end. I could leave Heartstring and the Meadows family alone. It’d been a year since my ex left me; it was time to stop trying to prove my point. I knew the truth about modern love and romance. I knew it was hopeless. What Camille and I went through was just further proof, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She may not have done anything to me yet, but she would. That is, if she could ever stand my own mistakes and faults long enough to have the opportunity.
But maybe it had planted a seed of something in her to help her understand my side of things. Or maybe I just needed to mind my own business. Either way, I could give her the thing she’d wanted from the beginning. She deserved at least that much for all the time she wasted trying to change my mind.
As soon as my glass was empty, I tossed a tip down on the table and walked out. It was a cold night out, and couples were bundled up in each other’s arms everywhere I looked. It was getting to be what some referred to as “cuffing season”—the winter holidays when people who didn’t want a relationship before suddenly wanted someone to cozy up with at night. I guessed my ex had wanted the same thing, just not with me.
Hailing down a cab, I gave the driver Camille’s address. I had a twisting feeling in my gut the whole ride over. I didn’t even know if I’d find her at her apartment. Some parts of me were tingling with the anticipation of seeing her again, even if only for a moment. Those were the parts that were desperately trying to convince the rest of me to show up and say something far different from what I had planned.
But most of me accepted that even if I could promise something better to Camille, we’d be right back in this boat weeks or months down the road. And each time, it’d hurt worse than the time before because our feelings would be stronger. I didn’t have it in me to take the ride again, not even with her. I didn’t think I could survive the inevitable crash at the end.
I could give her something else she wanted, though: a promise to put all this nonsense to a stop and leave Heartstring alone. But the moment she answered her front door, I felt my whole planned speech catch in my throat.
11
Camille
“Ugh, what are you even doing here?” I scoffed at Mark standing at my front door. I wished he didn’t look so damn good when I was so pissed at him.
“Sorry to bother you. I won’t take up much of your time. Can I come in for a minute?”
The whole reason I had suggested we meet at the bar was to avoid being alone at my place. I didn’t want things to unravel the way they had last time, with us ending up in bed together. But now here he was. I couldn’t get away from the temptation, despite my best efforts.
“Fine. Come in. But only for a moment.”
He stepped inside and eyed the open bottle of wine on the counter and the glass in my hand.
“I’d offer you something to drink, but since you’re only going to be here for a minute…”
“Right. No, that’s okay.” He smiled politely.
My heart was pounding as he stood over me. Our bodies swayed with each breath, like at any moment we would go crashing into each other all over again. And yet it felt like he was worlds away. Nothing about Mark Silver’s actions made any sense to me. He didn’t make any sense to me, and that was the most infuriating part.
“Get on with it then,” I sighed, crossing my arms. I was determined to be immune to the magnetic draw between our bodies that only seemed to intensify the moment we were alone together.
“I’m sorry I put you through all of this,” he offered. “But I’ve come to tell you...that I’m going to stop pestering your company and your customers. I’ll back off.”
“It’s a shame you couldn’t have done that from the beginning, without dragging me through all of this first,” I huffed. “But good. Glad you came to your senses. Lucas was talking about bringing the lawyers into it, so if you don’t keep your word…”
“I will,” he insisted. “No more trolling. No more botched dates.”
I nodded and waited. Secretly, I was hoping he came to promise more. That maybe my words at the bar had sunk in deep enough to make him rethink some other things as well, like love...or me. But that was obviously beyond his spectrum of feeling.
“Is that it then? I’m tired. I should…”
“One more thing.” He cut me off, stepping in closer.
His head dropped, and I knew I should pull away from him. The last thing I needed to do was stand there and let his lips press into mine. His impossibly soft lips and the taste of whiskey on his tongue rolled over me...taking my breath away. And, apparently, any ability I had to refuse him.
Our bodies seemed to slip seamlessly into the motions of what had transpired in my apartment last night. I bit into his bottom lip—a little punishment for all the trouble he’d caused, and he moved to inflict the same torture on my hardened nibbles, which slipped out of my bra with one smooth, gliding motion of his hands. He flicked his tongue across each one as I clenched my fingers into his hair. He stopped only long enough to set himself to ripping off my clothes.
I rolled my head back and closed my eyes, relishing in the heated arousal rushing through me. It was intoxicating and he was addicting. He dropped down to his knees, stripping away the last of my clothes as he went while I tugged his shirt over his head.
“I like the sight of you kneeling down in front of me like that,” I teased.
He smirked. “The least I can do after everything is bow down at your feet.”
“I hope that’s not all you plan on doing while you’re down there.”
He flashed a devilish grin and flattened his tongue against my folds, licking me from top to bottom. He sucked me into his mouth, making my knees weak. But his hands wrapped around my thighs, steadying my shaking legs.
“You taste so good, Camille,” he growled against me, licking his lips before sucking me in again.
I rolled my head back with a moan, fighting off the pesky thoughts that threatened to ruin the moment. Apparently not good enough, I thought, already resenting myself. Not good enough to convince him that not everyone was a heartbreaker just waiting to destroy him.
His tongue rolled across me, coaxing out a spasming rush. I convulsed and dug my nails into the skin of his back, amazed that my anger towards him only seemed to make my orgasm come on faster and harder.
He smiled up at me, looking proud with my wetness still glistening on his lips. I thought he was finished, but he wen
t right back to work...lapping me up like his life depended on it. I writhed against him until I erupted into another orgasm that caught me by surprise.
As soon as he was finished, I pushed him back and pulled at him until he stood up and faced me again. Our mouths crashed back together with a vengeance, like we resented having to stop kissing long enough for him to make me cum...twice.
I yanked down his zipper and freed his throbbing hard cock, stroking it as his eyes burned into me.
“See, there are other ways a woman can destroy a man,” I taunted. “It doesn’t have to be all cheating and heartache.”
I continued rubbing him from top to bottom while he groaned between broken breaths. His body swayed with the movements and he pressed his face into my neck—steadying himself against me now. I toyed with him until he seemed desperate to cum, and only then did I drop down to my knees and take the tip into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around him, then let him slide to the back of my throat. With my hand following each push and pull of my mouth, I felt him shudder and slip closer to losing himself.
I knew he wouldn’t let it end like that, though. If we were going to go against our better judgments and let this happen again, we might as well do it all the way.
I got back onto my feet and let him kiss me again. We went crashing back onto the couch with me on top, straddling him. He looked me up and down with burning lust, smoothing his hands around to my backside.
“Enjoying the view?” I asked coyly.
“Fuck...yes,” he rasped.
“I am, too,” I admitted, eyeing his throbbing hard cock shooting up between us.
He kissed up and down my body as I lowered myself over him, sliding him inside. I sat down hard and fast, letting him shoot deep inside, filling me completely. He hissed and moaned, and a long, foreign-sounding whimper escaped my own lips, too.
I stretched around him, taking him in deeper each time I lowered onto him. The sting of his girth soon melted into warm pleasure that left me doubting how long I could let it last. I already felt the promise of another orgasm starting to build. My heart ached when I wondered how long it would take me to find another man who could make me cum as hard and fast as he did.
His hips started thrusting up to meet my motions, making the friction between us build and build. His strong, muscular arms took hold of me—moving my body in whatever way he wanted. I watched as his head dropped to the back of the couch, closing his eyes to lose himself in the mounting pleasure.
My muscles strained around him, tightening and convulsing. I was close, and the way he twitched inside of me made it obvious he was, too. He expertly guided us both over the edge at the same time, each of us grunting, groaning, and losing all sense of anything beyond how we were making each other feel. He slammed into me harder as the wave broke and started to fade.
We were sweaty and out of breath by the time our climaxes started dissipating into exhausted, limp satisfaction. Mark continued drinking in the sight of my naked body on top of him, running his hands down my breasts, my torso, and my thighs.
The silence was torture, but there wasn’t anything left to say. I had gotten what I wanted and far more than what I’d bargained for. Mark agreed to leave my company alone, and also to leave me alone. And at least I had gotten some killer sex out of it all before it was over.
Mark didn’t seem to have anything else to say either. We silently collapsed back onto the couch together with my body sprawled out on top of his. I knew I should get up. I should have already gotten dressed and told him it was time for him to go. It hadn’t been my idea for him to show up and seduce me like that, after all.
But I found it hard to move. My body seemed content with being laid out flat against his hot, naked skin. I didn’t know how long it had been since I’d slept with someone before our first time together. And who knew how long it would be before I found someone else to be with like that. I figured, as long as he let me, I might as well take advantage and bask in these moments of contentment with nothing but our ragged breath between us.
I swirled my finger around in his chest hair and pressed my cheek hard against his pecks. The smells of sex and manly cologne filled my nose. I was already sad to see him go, even before he had.
Part of me wanted to ask him what was so bad about this. Sure, people hurt other people. There wasn’t always a guarantee of avoiding that. But you could still soak up the good times while you had them. Why deprive yourself of all that pleasure and happiness just because it might end someday?
The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got. But I was too tired to even think of diving into the same old argument with him again. Instead, I simply sighed and nuzzled closer into his side. At least for the moment, if he wasn’t in any hurry to leave...I was in no hurry to make him.
We both drifted off into a deep sleep with our bodies and limbs entangled on the couch. When I woke up again in the middle of the night, I didn’t want to move. I wanted to soak up as much as I could get before he was gone.
12
Mark
I woke up to the faintest beam of sunlight starting to streak through the curtains of Camille’s living room. The sun was just starting to rise and was shining straight in my eyes. It was enough to cause me to stir awake, but Camille was still sleeping soundly, draped across my chest.
I watched her sleep for a moment, admiring the peaceful smile on her lips. I had forgotten how good it could feel to fall asleep and wake up again with a woman in your arms. Especially one you were starting to have feelings for.
I swallowed hard as I admitted to myself just how fond I was growing of her, but then felt the stinging reminder that this was supposed to be the end of it. I had promised to leave Heartstring alone...and her as well. Even though, truthfully, that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Then I remembered the last morning we had spent together after ravaging each other’s bodies. That conversation had taken no time at all in going south, and I couldn’t imagine this morning going any better given the circumstances.
Without waking her, I gently rolled her over onto the couch cushions and slid out from underneath her. I quietly gathered my things and left, stopping once to look back at her on my way out. She let out an adorable little moan and turned, giving me a glimpse of her bare breasts. It took every ounce of willpower I had in me to walk out the door instead of nuzzling up against them and sliding in between her thighs all over again.
But I shut the door behind me and kept walking. I went home, showered, and carried on with my usual business. There was a special Sunday brunch at the soup kitchen that day, and I assumed my usual role on the serving line.
Rudy, one of my favorite people to serve, smiled at me as he held out his plate for a helping of mashed potatoes, sausage, and gravy.
“How are you today, you old stud?” he teased me. “I saw that pretty girl who was tagging along with you the other week. When is she coming back? We need more beautiful women to go with our lunches.”
“Camille,” I replied. “Just a friend. I’ll let her know you’d like to see her again, though.”
“A friend?” He laughed. “I never would have thought that with the way you two were looking at each other. I certainly don’t look at my friends that way.”
“Well, your eyes are bad,” I teased.
“Maybe so. But I know what I saw. Come sit with me when you’re done, will you?” He eyed my shirt pocket, where I kept a flask specifically for the purpose of sharing with him. When all the others were served and everyone was sitting down to enjoy their meal, I made my way over to the seat Rudy had saved for me. I hoped that by bringing him booze he would spare me from more teasing about Camille. But he brought her up again in no time at all, much to my dismay.
“How did you two meet?” he asked, as he looked around and took a secretive sip from the silver flask.
I decided to play dumb. “How did I meet who?”
“Camille,” he grunted.
“Oh, still thinkin
g about her?” I winced. “It’s a long story. I told you, she’s just a friend.”
“It’s a beautiful thing to be young and in love.” He sighed.
“I’m not that young and I’m definitely not in love.”
“Sure you are,” he insisted. “I can tell by the sick look on your face. That’s the thing about it. It strikes you so hard, it makes you ill. It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.”
“It’s not for anyone who’s smart enough to know better.”
“You’re so cynical,” he scoffed. “That’s what landed me here in the first place. My wife’s name was Margaret. She was the love of my life, and I was one lucky son of a bitch to have her. Remarkably, she felt the same way about me.”
“Not so surprising.” I patted his shoulder. “You’re a likeable guy. Hell, I like you! But what does she have to do with you needing the soup kitchen?”
His eyes darkened. “When she was gone...I struggled to keep things straight. I haven’t quite been the same since.”
“Forgive me for wanting to avoid the same fate. Did she leave you?”
His face grew even more solemn and he looked up at me with misty eyes. “She got sick. She passed away. It drove me mad. I’m doing better now, but like I said...life isn’t the same without her. I’m not the same without her.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered sincerely. “I guess even if you do manage to snag a good woman, fate will still interfere to tear you apart. Even more reason to avoid it altogether.”
He took another swig from the flask and seemed to drift off into his memories for a moment before turning back to me. “I beg to differ. I’d go through it all over again and then some to relive my time with her. I don’t have any regrets. It was worth it. It was all worth it.”
I noticed a few stragglers coming in and heading for the serving line. The rest of the volunteers were busy refilling drinks, which left it up to me to help the late arrivals. I hated to leave Rudy alone with his heartache, and it was fascinating to hear about his life when he had seen better days.