by DJ Jamison
“Yeah, baby. Come on me.”
“Soon,” I whispered.
He snapped his hips up, fucking me harder and leaned up to bite my neck. Fuck. My neck was super sensitive and my orgasm hit me like a freight train. It rolled through me, from my spine to my fingertips and exploded out of my dick. I jerked as jizz flew onto Reid’s chest, matting his chest hair and tipping one nipple with a pearly drop.
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, and then he went rigid beneath me and I could feel the pulse of his dick in my ass. I clenched down on it, and he groaned loudly.
“God,” he gasped, “that was incredible.”
“That was—” I started only to be interrupted by Lee’s voice outside the door.
“Loud!” he called. “It was really fucking loud.”
“Crap,” I whispered, cheeks flushing.
“Sorry!” Reid called out.
“It’s okay,” Lee said. “I jerked off to your moans. Thank Camden for me. It’s always the quiet ones who are freaks in the sack, huh?”
I collapsed against Reid, hiding my face in his neck. “Oh, Jesus,” I mumbled as Reid laughed and threw a shoe at the door.
“Fuck off, Lee.”
Chapter 19
Reid
I pinned Camden to the wall, feeling every bend and dip of his body squirming beneath me. I was so damn glad he blew my cover because now I could blow him. Again.
Our lips connected and he moaned into my mouth. My hands locked on his hips, grinding against him. Images of bending him over another hard surface danced in my head. Maybe the desk in the office?
Chimes rang in the foyer. I tried to ignore the sound — my attention wasn’t focused enough to realize what it meant — but Camden pushed me back.
“The door.”
The doorbell rang again. “Shit.”
We’d finished the living room since our first paint-ridden seduction, had painted the dining room and moved on to the hallway. I had a number of other projects in progress, from re-facing the kitchen cabinets to finishing up the landscaping makeover. I’d hire contractors to handle the roof and other exterior repairs, but I was going to do as much of the interior as I could handle.
I’d been a teensy bit distracted since sleeping with Camden, though.
He smoothed his hair, and looked down at his clothes in dismay. He was smoking hot in paint-streaked jeans and a ripped T-shirt that teased me with glimpses of skin.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“Probably a salesman or something.”
I opened the door to see Sherrilyn Davenport, immaculate in a matching lavender skirt and suit jacket. Her curls were piled on her head and looked as if even a gale force wind wouldn’t shake them.
“Mr. Bishop,” she said warmly. “I came by to see the place.”
I wasn’t happy with the interruption. A look sidewise told me that Camden was irritated and possibly embarrassed.
“The house is not ready,” I said.
She smiled. “Oh, I know. But I see Camden’s car is here, so perhaps he could just let me have a quick looksee? I’m so curious about the place, and I’d love to refresh my memory on size and layout.”
I looked to Camden and he shrugged, then stepped forward and held out a hand. “Sherrilyn, good to see you. You caught us working on repairs.”
Well, that was partly true. I was just about to nail something …
“You’re helping with that?”
She sounded scandalized that a real estate agent would get more hands-on than putting a sign in the yard and arranging showing appointments.
Camden flushed as her gaze took in his clothing. There was a look of censure in her eyes, as if he’d done something wrong.
“The faster to get it on the market so people can see it,” he said lightly.
She glanced around the freshly painted foyer, then walked into the living room. This room had been derailed by hot sex, but we’d finished it last week.
“It does brighten the place up, doesn’t it?” Sherrilyn said. “I don’t want to interrupt your work. I can show myself around. Carry on.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll give you the tour,” Camden said. “That way I can answer questions about our plans for the house.”
She frowned slightly, but she didn’t argue. I let them go, not wanting to interfere. Picking up a paint brush, I got back to work in the hallway. By the time they returned, I’d finished one wall.
“Well, it really does have great potential,” Sherrilyn said. “Oh! I have to use the little girl’s room. Do you mind?”
Camden shook his head, and she turned and click-clacked down the hall in her heels.
“Okay?” I asked.
Camden nodded toward the living room, and I followed him. Once we were out of eavesdropping distance, he spoke.
“She didn’t seem that interested in our plans for the house. Kind of weird.” He hesitated, biting down on his lip. “I need to tell you something. I probably should have mentioned it before.”
“What?”
“Um, Sherrilyn has personal reasons for being interested in this house. Did you know?”
I glanced down the hall toward the bathroom, where Sherrilyn had gone. The door remained closed.
“How do you mean?” I asked.
“Um, she was married to Aaron. Robert’s—”
“Son, I know.” My head whipped back toward Camden. “You’re saying Sherrilyn is part of my family?”
“She was,” he said tentatively. “She remarried years ago.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell me that?” I mused. Then my gaze sharpened on Camden. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
His cheeks flushed. “I don’t know.”
His eyes were shifty, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Suddenly it hit me. He didn’t tell me because he thought I’d give the listing to her.
“Really, Camden?” I said sharply. “I didn’t think you were so self-serving.” He winced, looking hurt by my sharp tone. I couldn’t stop it, though. “I deserve to know about my own family. I can’t believe you kept that from me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Camden had been shrinking into himself, looking small and ashamed, but he drew himself up and stepped forward, poking me in the chest with a finger. “Nothing’s wrong with me! Maybe I should have told you sooner, but I’ve had a lot on my plate, okay? Besides, why wouldn’t she tell you herself? Did you even think of that?”
I did wonder why, of course. But it was a deflection on Camden’s part. I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy.
“That’s a pretty big omission. I don’t like that you weren’t honest from the start.”
He scoffed. “That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? You lied to me for weeks. You’re still not telling me everything. There’s mountains I don’t know about you and Lee.”
“That’s different. I lie for—”
“For your job?” he interrupted. Okay, so I called him self-serving for lying to protect his job as my real estate agent, but it was hardly the same thing.
“And Lee’s safety.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t have a noble calling. I’m just a guy trying to get by. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Reid, but I only learned who she was a couple of days before I learned who you were. We were in a weird place at the time, and afterwards I guess I’d hit my limit for big reveals. I just wanted to …”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Put me first for once.”
He blinked hard. Was he on the verge of tears? My gut clenched at the sight.
It was rare for Camden to put himself before others. I’d witnessed that firsthand. And he did have a lot to deal with. I knew he was virtually homeless, struggling to earn a living and working around the clock. That was all before he was drawn into my big secret, just one more burden to carry.
“If that makes me selfish, then I guess I’m selfish,” he said quietly before I could even think of an appr
opriate apology for my reaction. “Sorry you were in the dark for once. I know you like it the other way around.”
With that final point scored, he turned and walked out the door. I watched him go, speechless.
On the one hand, he wasn’t being fair. Lying for my job was essential. It was life-and-death. But life had been knocking Camden around for a long time, and I’d been quick to shame him for trying to hold on to something going right for a change.
I never would have taken the listing from him. It hurt a bit to think he had so little faith in me.
With a sigh, I realized that Sherrilyn was still roaming my house. I’d have to talk to Camden later, try to make things right. For now, I’d settle for dealing with my wayward cousin — or my mother’s cousin, anyway. She was technically my first cousin once removed … by marriage. Or something. I’d worry about the confusing labels later.
The bathroom door stood open. I continued down the hallway and glanced in each door until I saw her in the master closet. She was crouched down near the floor. What the hell was she doing?
“Can I help you?”
She jumped and stumbled out of the closet. “Oh! You startled me.”
I smiled. “That’s not the bathroom.”
She flushed. “I’m sorry, dear. I used to be friends with the child who grew up here. He used to have a memory box, and I confess I was very curious as to whether it might still be around. I was just poking around a bit, but I realize now how rude that was!”
“You were friends with Aaron?”
Her eyes grew moist. “Yes, lifelong friends. His death was heartbreaking.”
I didn’t know why she wasn’t telling me the truth about her relationship with Aaron. Her emotion seemed genuine enough.
“I heard you were more than friends.”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “You did?”
“You were married, weren’t you?”
“I didn’t think you knew.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She twisted her hands in her skirt. “I don’t know. We never met, and I didn’t know what your reaction would be. I just wanted to see the house again. I’m sorry.”
Watching Sherrilyn blink back tears, I felt myself warm toward her. She really did love Aaron. It was plain to see in her face.
I walked forward and put an arm around her shoulders.
“You should have told me,” I chided. “I would have given you a tour myself. I thought you only wanted to see the place for real estate reasons.”
She sniffed. “Well, that too. I didn't want to bring up sad things, you know.”
I walked her into the living room. “Well, I’ll let you know if I see anything that belonged to Aaron that you might like.”
She patted my cheek. “Thank you, dear. I should be going.”
After she left, my thoughts lingered on Aaron and what became of his father after he died. This house had seen a lot of sadness. Maybe it was time to change that.
***
Camden
I paced the sidewalk, hot and miserable in my hot-dog casing. Rivulets of sweat ran down my back and my sweat-soaked briefs clung to my ass and thighs.
“Hot dog, do we have a deal for you!” I called out. “Two for one Daredevil Dog Meals!”
I didn’t want to be there on the sizzling sidewalk calling out specials. I never wanted to be there, but today my mood was worse than usual. I was still smarting from Reid’s scolding.
“You’d have to dare me to eat there,” popped off a teen coming out of the music store two doors down. His friends laughed while making finger-down-the-throat gagging motions.
“You’d have to dare me to dress like you idiots,” I muttered, but quietly enough they wouldn’t hear. Even in their droopy ass jeans, they could probably kick my ass.
“Camden Lewis? Oh my gosh, is that you?”
My head snapped up.
Oh, God no.
Ted and Martha Keller were walking up the sidewalk toward me. They were my most promising clients at the moment. They might be picky as hell, but if they could settle on a house to buy they were going to sell their existing home. That made them my ticket out of this hot dog suit and off Miguel’s sofa.
I looked around, hoping for an escape. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my manager Mike crossing the street toward me. It was like the perfect storm of bad luck.
Fuck my life.
“Camden, it is you,” Martha said, looking puzzled. Her eyes scanned over me from wiener head to bun to bright red tights. “Did you leave the real estate business?”
“No, no,” I rushed to reassure her. “This is just a side thing.”
“Side thing?”
“A favor, really. Just a favor for a friend,” I said, laughing weakly. “But I’m still very much working in real estate. We have an appointment for tonight, I believe.”
“Oh, well …”
“Camden!” Mike called. “Stop chit-chatting and start working!”
My face flushed. “I am working. These are customers.”
“Oh?” Mike turned a bright expression on them. “What do you think of our dog here?”
“Very interesting,” Ted said, speaking for the first time. Martha looked like she wanted an escape almost as badly as I did.
“You haven’t seen the best part!” Mike said with a grin. And I knew, with a sinking heart, what was coming next. I shook my head, desperately hoping an asteroid would crash to earth and stop the train wreck under way, but karma wasn’t on my side. As usual.
“Sing the song for them, Camden!”
“Oh no,” I said. “They don’t want to hear that.”
“Sing the song, Cam,” Mike said, his smile faltering.
“No.”
“Sing. The. Song.” Each word came from gritted teeth, and I knew I’d never hear the end of it later, but I couldn’t do it. I physically could not make my body cooperate with that demand. Even I could only handle so much mortification in a day.
And just like that, I snapped.
“I’m not singing the fucking song, Mike!”
A shocked silence fell like a curtain. Ted shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. Martha’s hand flew up to cover her mouth in surprise.
Mike turned red. “Watch your language! I’m so sorry, sir. Ma’am. It’s Dog N Stuff’s policy to be entirely professional with our customers. We don’t encourage this kind of behavior at all.”
“Er, that’s okay,” Ted said.
“If you’d like a coupon—”
“That’s quite all right,” Martha interjected. “We were just going.”
“See you tonight,” I said, hoping I could smooth this whole situation over but knowing deep down that the damage had been done.
Ted shook his head. “I think we’ve decided against buying at this time.”
“Yes!” Martha seized on her husband’s excuse. “That’s what we stopped to tell you. Thank you for everything, but … now is not the right time.”
They hurried away, and a scowling Mike whirled on me. “You just scared away customers. That’s not what the Dog in Dog N Stuff’s campaign is supposed to do, Cam. As our signature hot dog, you’re supposed to entice people with your friendliness and flair.”
“Oh, for crying out loud! They were never your customers. They were my real estate clients. I spent weeks showing them homes, and thanks to this joke of a costume, they’ve fired me!”
“It might have had something to do with the swearing,” Mike said.
I threw up his hands. “You’re right. The giant hot-dog costume had nothing to do with it. Everyone wants their real estate agent to dress like a hot dog and sing them a fucking song!”
Mike’s lips pressed together. “I don’t think you’re embracing the Dog N Stuff attitude, Cam. I really can’t have you representing our restaurant any longer.”
“You know, I couldn’t agree more, Mike.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You can take thi
s dog and stuff it,” I said, squirming to pull my arms through the holes and duck out of the costume. I was done with this miserable costume and this demeaning job. I couldn’t take any of it a second longer.
“You don’t have to do that right here!” Mike said.
The teens who’d called out obnoxious insults earlier were staring from where they’d just come out of a store a few doors down. One of them held a phone, probably shooting video of my meltdown for YouTube or Reddit. It said something about my state of mind that I didn’t even care.
I wiggled and tugged until the costume slid off, and a blessed cool breeze caressed my skin. I smiled for the briefest moment, reveling in the circulation my body hadn’t had in the past hour. Then I came to my senses and realized I was standing on a sidewalk in skimpy black briefs. I was generally a boxer briefs kind of guy, but in the hot-dog costume, I wore as little as possible.
Traffic was light. Outside of the two teenage guys who were laughing their asses off, no one else was around. Mike stared at me in shock, taking the sweaty costume I shoved into his arms.
“You should work on that temper, buddy,” he said.
I laughed. I laughed so hard, I bent over and clutched my stomach. My temper, that was the problem. Not the shitty luck of losing my apartment and failing to make sale after sale. Not screwing up my chances with the best clients I had, including the one I was falling in love with.
If you asked me, a bit of temper seemed reasonable. Maybe even overdue.
Feeling a breeze on my ass, I straightened abruptly. I was standing mostly naked on the sidewalk with a shell-shocked manager mumbling about mental break-downs. I left him there, holding that godawful suit I’d never put on again for a million dollars, and darted across the street to duck into the employee entrance and make a beeline for the locker room where I’d left my clothes.
I was furious with life. Furious with myself. But oddly, I wasn’t angry with Reid anymore. I felt afraid, and not only because he may or may not forgive me for holding back information about his family. I was afraid because I was falling in love with the man, and once his job here was done and Ivy Lane sold, he’d leave.
The one thing I desperately needed — the sale of Ivy Lane — conflicted with the one thing I desperately wanted: for Reid Bishop to be mine.