Shaken: An Interracial Second Chance Romance (L.A. Nights Book 3)

by Sylvie Fox

  Yesenia was surprised at how comfortable the domestic routine was. She missed this part of marriage. Turning sideways and putting her legs up, she threw an arm over the back of the couch.

  “How’s Ryan?” she asked. His brother must have had a hand in this. Yesenia couldn’t see any other way that flattened pork and sliced lemons had appeared in Cameron’s place. When they were together, her mother did most of the cooking. And without Reina, Cam had subsisted on hamburgers and spaghetti from a jar.

  “In love. Insufferable.”

  “And your mom?” She immediately regretted the question. Bridget was an argument catalyst. His response was level headed, though. “Fine,” came over his shoulder. His back to her, she couldn’t gauge his expression. With English being her second language, she relied heavily on reading people’s faces to understand what they were really saying. “Ryan and I still have Sunday brunch with her. She needs a new fence.”

  Yesenia dropped her shoulders and massaged her neck. Either he’d learned to spare her the truth about what his mom thought about his plans to get back together, or Bridget had mellowed out.

  “Bring the wine,” Cameron said. He carried a heaping platter in one hand, and two plates in the other. She scurried to put her nearly empty glass and the bottle on the table, and came back to relieve him of the plates.

  She took a place at the foot of the table. Cameron disappeared, and the lighting seemed a little dimmer when he returned, matches in hand. He lit candles, and instead of sitting six feet away at the head of the table, he took a chair right next to her.

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” she said to the empty plate before her. She wasn’t dumb. Cameron wasn’t ready to sign papers of any kind, he was hell bent on seduction.

  Cameron ignored her. He filled the green ceramic plate with fried pork and some kind of vegetable and rice mixture. Following his lead, she tested a few grains. It was good, surprisingly so. But she put her fork down. Yesenia didn’t want to be swayed by food.

  “Did you hear—”

  “Loud and clear, Jessie.”

  “We didn’t separate because we couldn’t sit at a table together or sleep together. Nothing else worked.”

  “I never wanted the separation.”

  She heard her fork clang as it hit the floor, but she made no move to pick it up.

  What? This was news. Wait. She was the news. She hated being surprised. Yesenia was used to knowing things ten hours before everyone else. Sound as loud as the waves of the Pacific pounding against the rocks in Malibu filled her ears. Her mind was a jumble, Dori’s problems, hunger for food, hunger for him. None of this made sense. Her chest squeezed like she was drowning.

  “I didn’t go to the lawyer’s office by myself. You were right there. Next to me. You agreed,” she pressed.

  “You thought we needed a break.”

  How could he be so matter-of-fact about one of the worst moments of her life? A break? This had to be a really bad joke.

  Yesenia balled her hands into fists. If she tried to kill him, would he arrest her for murder? Because in a fight of her against him, he’d win. But boy would she like to give it a try right now. Sitting there now, looking smug about the possibility of reunification.

  Did he forget how he’d frozen her out? What was she supposed to do? Spend the next fifty years talking to an iceberg? When he couldn’t compromise on the importance of her career, her family, his job, his damned moral code, she hadn’t seen any reason to stick around. Now he was talking about it like they’d broken up for a week in high school, instead of years in the real world.

  She found the fork, laid it and the napkin on the table. “A break, Cameron. Our marriage was broken. I have…had…no plans to get back together.” In spite of her words, that tiny flame of hope was flickering to life again, like any fire gaining momentum on its own. They had both changed so much.

  “Okay,” he said, lifting his knife again and sawing off first one, then another piece of pork. He chewed like he did everything, slowly, deliberately. His eyes never left hers. Cameron swallowed. A wineglass touched his full bottom lip. Golden liquid disappeared from the glass. She’d lost her appetite. Why hadn’t he? Then she saw the predator he only tried to hide sometimes.

  Tiny beads of sweat broke out everywhere. Like prey, her fight or flight response kicked in. She needed to get the hell out of there if she didn’t want to end up in his bed. If she didn’t hightail it now, she’d be ensnared like a rabbit in a trap in some grand scheme she couldn’t yet work out. Yesenia put both her hands firmly on the table, gripping the edge. One push and she’d be out of there. The muscles in the back of her arms tightened. Before she could lift her butt from the chair, a single hand circled her upper arm.

  Chapter Six

  Yesenia swore to herself. Cameron had always been a man of few words. When he aimed them her way, it was always devastating. She was ready to follow him anywhere, and they both knew it.

  “You don’t want me.” She didn’t know who she was trying to convince, him or her. “You don’t trust me,” she added. “You didn’t even tell me about Ras–”

  “Trust this,” he said, then pulled her up and behind the gauze-thin curtain and onto the king sized bed.

  Cameron didn’t like criminals, wrongdoers, people who were disloyal, but no one could ever say he didn’t love women. He gently eased Yesenia onto the bed and pushed up her cotton skirt. Waves of heat surrounded her face and neck.

  Years ago, the first time Cameron had done this, she had been mortified. Her mother had hammered home the importance of virtue. Nice girls didn’t let men touch them there. But he had. And suddenly being nice hadn’t mattered a lick anymore. After that first time, there’d been no going back. Thanking God for the privacy of the apartment, she took a deep breath.

  The first touch was always a shock. She sucked in another shallower breath this time.

  “Some things never change, Jessie,” Cameron murmured.

  The pleasure that rippled through her seemed out of proportion to someone merely sliding a thumb under her panties, and through her slick folds.

  He paused a very long time. Anticipation twisted her belly. Yesenia could feel her jaw slackening, breath whooshing out in puffs that seemed to stir the curtains. Time stretched. He wanted something from her. Damn. She didn’t ask. He understood that. He gave. She took. That was the way it had always worked. But she sensed Cameron yearning for more.

  “What do you want, Jessie?” Oh, God. Why now? Why couldn’t this be the wrong thing at the right time without all the talk? Words made it real. Made them accountable. Made her accountable.

  “You know,” she kept her voice low.

  “Tell me, Jessie.”

  She thanked God, she couldn’t see his face. Those unblinking eyes holding her responsible. That he couldn’t see the mortification that probably stained hers.

  Yesenia wanted him to pull her panties off. Spread her legs. Put her knees over his shoulders. Part her with his thumbs. Paint her with his tongue.

  “Touch me,” she whispered in abbreviation. Cameron sighed. It wasn’t enough. If she didn’t give more now, he’d want more later. This new, improved Cam believed in personal responsibility.

  She wasn’t ready to acknowledge her part in this new relationship. Not when any future was iffy at best. Yesenia ran a hand through his hair, tracing the contours of his scalp. She opened her legs a little more, the only invitation she had the guts to offer. Because he was a man, it was an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

  Like a dog to a bone, Cameron came back to her, pushing her up to the headboard. She gripped the polished wood, holding on for dear life. Skimming off her underwear, he kissed the inside of each thigh. Goosebumps broke out on her skin. Then he was there. Bold strokes of his tongue bathed her in pleasure. Ripples washed over her, stronger and stronger until she stopped thinking.

  The bed dipped and rolled as he kneed and elbowed his way around her body.

  “Jessie
. Jesus.”

  The scrape of wood against wood accompanied the crinkle of plastic as he folded a condom into the palm of his hand. Obviously, he didn’t want to take any chances this time. A twinge of disappointment nagged at her. She mentally swatted it away.

  He kissed the tops of her fingers then laid them against his chest. Any thoughts of the future evaporated. She slipped first one button, then the next from its mooring. Yesenia pulled aside the pinstripe shirt. Its blue was the exact color of Cam’s eyes.

  He’d never been good at picking out clothes that complimented him. For a single irrational moment she wondered if a woman had bought it for him. But before her mind had time to go down that road, he pushed her hand down to his belt. Cam had no problem asking for what he wanted. She lifted the leather from the loops of his pants. After tugging apart the snap, she eased down the zipper. A single button on powder blue boxers held his erection behind the placket.

  She slipped her hand to his butt, under the waistband. Willingly he lifted his hips, and she tugged the underwear down. His penis sprang free. Hesitantly, she touched him. That part of him that brought them both so much pleasure hadn’t changed.

  She leaned in and kissed him squarely on his wine stained lips. He took over the kiss. It was sloppy with need, messy with want, heavenly.

  He pushed her sweater and bra up under her neck. Half a day’s growth of beard rasped against one breast. His fingers toyed with the nipple on the other. Reluctantly she lifted herself away from the exquisite torture for a moment. She pulled the clothes all the way off. One last time, she wanted to feel his naked body against hers.

  Yesenia put her arms around him. Kissing continued right where they’d left off. He loosened his grip a little, kissing the top of her head, her neck. Cam rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She straddled him, a knee on each side. Holding him in her hand, she rubbed his cock back and forth against her clit, amazed that her belly was tightening again.

  Cam fished the condom from somewhere in the bedclothes and gave it to her. “Put this on.”

  “I’ve never…” Yesenia rubbed her thumb along the rim, trying to imagine how the latex stretched over that part.

  “Not hard,” he forced out between clenched teeth.

  Sitting back on her haunches, she focused on tearing the foil open, squinting at the donut shaped latex. “Which side?”

  But she figured it out before he answered. She rolled it down a centimeter at a time. “Just like that,” Cam groaned out. She moved off him, ready to lie on her back. The way they’d always finished.

  “No. Not that. Not now,” he said. “Come back.” He pulled her knee back over. “Stay here.” Effortlessly, he spanned her waist and lifted her. “You do it.”

  She nearly cried with the need to be filled, the need for a second release. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

  Cam wrapped her hand around him, then covered it with his own. Up and down his shaft they moved. “I can’t…” His hand stilled hers. “I don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  “Sex isn’t just me fucking you, Jessie. It’s us. I need it to be about both of us. I need to know you need me as much as I want you.”

  His language was so direct, so visceral. A nervous feeling started in her core, radiated out. She didn’t know how to give him what he wanted. And she didn’t have a clue what to do next.

  “Put me inside.”

  She reached between them, feeling as awkward as a teenager. It took two tries to seat him where they both wanted him to be. Easing herself down, he filled her like he never had. She braced herself on his shoulders, her hands barely able to gain purchase on the hard cap of muscle.

  They were joined like that for long minutes while she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation. But once she opened her eyes again, the muscles of Cam’s chest fascinated her. Yesenia moved once, fanning her hands through the tight blond curls, finally landing on and playing with the hard nipples there.

  His hips bucked beneath her. Then Cam’s hands came to her waist again. Neither of them had any choice but to move, not if they didn’t want to die a slow death of anticipation. Up and down she went. It felt good, really good, but it wasn’t enough.

  Cam moved a hand to where they were joined. His eyes went from unfocused one moment to staring at her with laser-like intensity. Everything in her lower body tightened at the thought of what he was going to do next.

  He pulled one nipple into his mouth. Released it with a pop. Then leaned in for the other. Yesenia thought she would die right there. But this wasn’t an elevator or even an earthquake. Death wasn’t around the corner. This was life in all its blissful glory. Cam eased her back upright, and they started their rhythm again. Like an old watch, her body wound tight again. He pushed her knees apart, capturing the most sensitive part of her between his thumbs. One squeeze, two, and she nearly rocketed off him. But he caught her, pumping into her until his climax left him bare. It was the most vulnerable she ever saw him. Without armor or artifice, there was the man she’d fallen in love with those many years before.

  If she could see him this clearly, he could probably see through her as well. She turned away, not wanting to have a single soul-bearing exchange. The bed dipped. He went away briefly. A toilet flushed. Water ran. Yesenia was lifting her comforter, ready to hide when Cam came back, wineglass and bottle in hand.

  “Jessie.”

  Her name was a command. She peeled back the covers.

  He filled the glass, tipping it to her lips first, then to his.

  “For our entire marriage, you were the good girl. I was the bad boy corrupting you with sex. I think we needed a more equal partnership,” Cam said, setting the empty stemware on the bedside table.

  Had he strung together three sentences? What did he mean by equal partnership? Why was she even considering it? He had to understand.

  “I’m a good girl, Cameron.”

  “Got that. Now what?”

  “I was supposed to be a virgin on my wedding night. Modesty above all else, Mama always said.”

  Explaining Catholic girl guilt to someone raised without religion was too hard. Yesenia shook her head. Having sex in the dark was one thing. Talking about it was another. Marriage had been a refuge. The majority of their sex life had been within church-sanctioned holy matrimony. It was silly to someone like him. But marriage had made her comfortable enough to make love with him anytime he asked. To enjoy it. Have orgasms. Not feel too guilty about using birth control. But the other stuff. The partnership. Her taking the lead. That was asking too much.

  “I can’t talk about this right now,” she finally said.

  He sat up and snapped on the bedside light. Pulled small glasses from a pouch on the table.

  “You need reading glasses?” He looked so defenseless in the tiny spectacles. She let a little laugh escape.

  “Get the papers. I need to see where to sign.”

  Her mirth dried up in an instant. “I’m not buying the condo.”

  “Seriously?” He pulled off the glasses and lay them back down on the table. His stare was unforgiving.

  “I can’t make the down payment or pay closing costs.”

  “What happened to the money?”

  “I have to hire a lawyer for Dori.”

  Cameron poured himself another glass of wine. Guzzled it like it was a beer and he was at a fraternity hazing ritual.

  He emptied the remains from the bottle into the wineglass. Sipped this time. Liquid in his mouth made it impossible to yell at Jessie. Ryan had said to him more than once when they made the list that family acceptance would go a long way toward healing their marriage. But God damn it. Did acceptance mean he had to stand by and watch while they were taking advantage of her? She wanted one thing for herself and if Reina and Dolores had their way, she wasn’t going to be able to have it.

  “Did Dori ask you to do that?”

  “No, she told Mama that she was going to
get it from Raul.”

  “Why didn’t you let her?”

  “You know Raul. You’ve arrested him. He wouldn’t give my sister money without extracting some kind of payment. I don’t want her selling herself on the street or risk being a drug mule or something like that.”

  “I wouldn’t ever let it come to that.”

  “You think I’m an idiot for giving the money to a lawyer, right?”

  Cameron picked through that minefield and chose his words carefully. “I think you’re a loving sister.”

  “Who got suckered in by her mama and sister again.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But I know you think it.”

  “I’m not going to let you pick a fight with me, Jessie.”

  “I came here to ask you for help with Dori.”

  The truth, so starkly said, was a blow. Even though deep down, he’d known she hadn’t come because of him, but in spite of him. He’d thought it was because he was standing in the way of her owning the condo. Instead it was her family. Hardening his resolve, he took in more wine.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Jessie looked ready to fall off the bed. Took a good five seconds before she closed her mouth. “I…what…”

  “I can lend you money to buy the condo. It’s important to you.” Living frugally for the last couple of years had given him a nice-sized savings account. Money he was more than willing to spend on Jessie.

  “I wouldn’t take your money.” Jessie hesitated a long time. “But—”

  “Spit it out.”

  “You know what. It’s nothing, Cam. I’ll take care of this myself. The best I can.”

  He didn’t know whether to be disappointed because she hadn’t asked for something he couldn’t give without compromising his principles, or relieved.

  “You’re not going to ask me to dismiss the charges?”

  “It’s not like I didn’t consider it. But you’ve never done a favor for anyone ever, Cameron Becker. You are the most honest, upstanding, loyal, fair, play-no-favorites LAPD officer ever.”