by Marie Meyer
“No, stop,” I say, through gritted teeth. “There is a ginormous spider in the corner of the tent, right by your feet.
Cayden freezes. His hand clamps down on my waist. “Okay,” he says, exhaling. “Is it moving?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good. This is what I need you to do. Turn around as slowly as you can. Unzip the sleeping bag, then unzip the tent door. You’re going to slip out as calmly and slowly as possible. Got it?”
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. No! I can’t do this! I nod my response because my heart is lodged in my throat. I don’t know if I want to cry or vomit, maybe both. As slowly as I can, I twist my body around, so that my back is pressed to Cayden’s chest again. Grasping the zipper’s pull tab, I lower it methodically, one tooth at a time.
“You’re doing great, baby,” Cayden reassures me. “Now slowly unzip the door.”
Reaching for the door, I feel Cayden shift beside me. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get a better look, to see if I can identify it, and make sure we’re not pissing it off. Keep working on the door.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Hold it together, Ren. This nightmare will be over in a few more minutes…and then I’m never going camping again!
Two more inches…
The tent door flutters in the morning breeze, free, no longer zipped tight.
“It hasn’t moved, Ren. You’re doing great. Now, pull your feet out of the sleeping bag and climb through the door, real slow.”
I bite down on my lip, hold my breath, and pull my knees to my chest, rotating my body out of the sleeping bag. In one fluid motion, I roll through the door and two seconds later, Cayden’s outside with me.
“Ohhh! Jesus H. Fu—” I bite off my swear, throwing my arms around Cayden. “Was that thing in the tent with us all night?” My voice squeaks. My whole body itches, like a million things are crawling on it.
Cayden rubs his hands up and down my back. “Shhhh, it’s okay. Shhhh…”
I glare at him. “Okay? That thing could have eaten us for breakfast! Did you see the size of it?” I break free of Cayden’s arms. “I need my clothes.” Scanning the campsite for my bag, I remember that I stored it in Cayden’s truck so nothing would crawl inside.
Smart thinking, Ren.
Stalking toward the truck, I climb inside, and slam the door, thankful to be out of nature. From now on, it is five-star hotels for this city girl.
Cayden climbs in the driver side. “Well, isn’t that a hell of a good morning. Thank God Taz has no neighbors,” he laughs. “They’d wonder what kind of kinky shit he’s got going on over here, two naked people dancing in his backyard.”
I glare at him, not finding the humor in any of this. At all.
“Oh, come on”—he nudges my shoulder with his—“that was funny!”
“No. Not funny.” I yank a shirt over my head.
“There aren’t going to be any more camping trips, are there?” He stares at me, trying to dissect my thoughts, knowing full well what my answer will be.
“The only tent sex you’ll be getting is if we pitch one in the living room.”
He nods, considering the idea. “That can be arranged.”
Reaching over the back of my seat, he pulls his clothes out of his bag. Working around the steering wheel, he slips his feet into his shorts and tugs them up. In all my pouting and huffing and puffing, I hadn’t noticed the gorgeously naked man sitting next to me. I could have climbed onto his lap and turned our failed attempt at morning tent sex, into morning truck sex. Dammit, Ren!
Shrugging a T-shirt over his chiseled abs, he leans across and kisses me. “Wish me luck, sweetheart. I’m going to wrestle with Shelob.” With a twist, he’s out the truck and jogging back toward Cirith Ungol.
While Cayden dismantles the tent and gives it a thorough shaking, setting our eight-legged tent-mate free, I pack up the camping chairs and carry them to the truck bed.
“I found it, Ren,” Cayden calls across the yard. “Want to see?”
“I think I’ll pass, thanks,” I shout back.
Crouching in the grass, Cayden examines the vile creature. “It’s completely harmless. It’s just a nursery web spider.”
“I don’t care if it’s a spider made of solid gold. Just get the condoms so we can get out of here.”
He looks up from his spider-study and laughs. “Always with your mind in the gutter, Daniels.”
“Hey, we could have had some epic truck sex this morning, had that thing not held our condoms hostage.”
After picking up the foil packets from the grass, Cayden stands, tent and condoms in hand, walking back to the truck, a huge smirk on his face. “Did someone say epic truck sex? You’ve got my attention, Daniels,” he says, pointing to the noticeable bulge in his shorts.
I bite my lip. “Rain check? I really just want a shower right now, Cayden. Me and nature, we’re on the outs.”
“I am going to hold you to that, sweetheart.” Cayden kisses me hard and pulls my door open. “Your chariot, my lady.”
Climbing in, Cayden shuts my door and comes around to his side. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“For what?” I’ve never seen him so cheerful, upbeat. Camping puts him in a seriously good mood. A flare of excitement lights inside me, proud that I knew what would lift his weary spirit.
“For this. The last twenty-four hours…the last two months…for you.” He puts his hands on my cheeks and pulls my face toward his, planting his lips on mine. This kiss is like the front seat of a roller coaster, a stomach dropping rush, wind in the face, three-sixty loop of pure joy.
When we pull apart I’m wide eyed and gape mouthed. “Wow. What was that for again?”
“Because you’re perfect. So, so perfect.”
And then the ride comes to an end and you know you’re going to be sick. “I’m not perfect, Cayden. Not even close.” When I can’t give you the family you want, you’re going to find out how not perfect I really am.
His eyes scan my face. I can almost feel the places they linger. “You have the most expressive eyes, Ren Daniels. When you’re happy, they’re bright, despite being the darkest brown. It’s exquisite. A lighthouse in the dark.” Very gently, he touches my eyelid. “And then sometimes, that light is extinguished, doused by rolling storms. I know there are storms from your past. And it kills me. I want so much to break through them, to bring that gorgeous light back. To hold your hand and chase those clouds away. Whatever it is, Ren, you can tell me.”
My body deflates. How can he read me so well? Now’s my chance, tell him and get it over with. This camping trip could be our last hurrah, end on a high note. Except…I don’t want us to end. Selfishly, I want more time, even though it’s going to hurt a million times more, the longer I draw this out.
“I’m just not perfect. That’s all.” I bite my tongue. Coward. Heartless. Liar. So many adjectives to describe me. “Perfect” is the antonym.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cayden
“Mr. Sinclair, this is Attorney William Golden, Mrs. Sinclair’s estate lawyer, please call me at your earliest convenience. Thank you. Have a nice day.”
Beep.
“Mr. Sinclair, so sorry for your loss. This is Angela McBride with McBride Realty, if you are in need of a Realtor, please call our office, we’d be happy to get Mrs. Sinclair’s home on the market.”
Beep.
“Cayden, it’s Lacey, I hate to bother you, but I have a box of your mother’s things. Give me a call when you’re at your mom’s house, I’ll bring it over. Thanks, dear. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, we’re thinking about you.”
Beep.
“Cayden, it’s Emily. I know it’s a bad time, I’m sorry. But, I wanted to let you know that I’m having Gabby’s christening on the fourth. Vince and I would really love it if you’d be Gabby’s godfather. Hope you can make it. Bring Ren, too. I’d love to see her. Thanks. Thinking about you. Bye.”
&
nbsp; “End of messages.”
Reality fucking sucks. Why do I have a landline? I rip the cord from the wall. Why can’t I just take Ren and run away again?
You’re a Marine, Sinclair. You don’t run the fuck away.
Plopping down on the coach, I rest my hands on my knees, burying my face in my hands. From down the hall, I can hear the sound of Ren’s melodic voice mingled with rushing water.
The anger in my blood subsides with each note she sings. She isn’t bad, actually. Musical talent must run in her family, too. I’d love to join her, but I’m content to sit here and listen at the moment. Finding peace in the small things.
Thanks, Mom.
By the time Ren is finishes her ten-song shower concert, I’ve got the truck unpacked, and no hot water left. But, I’m good. Better than good. The camping trip did exactly what it was supposed to. I miss Mom. I miss Dad. I miss them like hell. But, it’s time for this Marine to get shit done, and my first order of business is calling Emily back.
I dial the number and wait for her to answer.
“Hello?” Emily says.
“Hey, Em. It’s Cayden. How are you?”
“Cayden, hi! I’m good. How are you doing? I’m so sorry about your mom.”
Ren walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her and I can’t pull my eyes away. “Oh, um…” I stumble over my words, distracted. “I’m hanging in there, thank you.”
Ren looks at me, puzzled, gesturing to the phone. I mouth, It’s Emily.
Ren’s face lights up. It’s got to be hard for her. I’m sure she gets attached to all the babies she helps deliver. When they leave the hospital, that’s the last she sees of them. Seeing Gabriella again will be a rare treat.
“Cayden, Vince and I would love it if you’d be Gabby’s godfather. It would mean a lot to us.”
“Emily, I’d be honored,” I say.
“Oh, thank you! The christening will be at Saint Paul’s Catholic Church on the fourth, six o’clock.”
“Ren and I will be there. We’ll see you soon. ’Bye, Em.”
“Bye, Cayden.”
Disconnecting the call, Ren sits down beside me. “What was that all about?”
“Emily and Vin want me to be Gabriella’s godfather.”
“Oh, Cayden,” Ren says with a smile. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it is.” I grab Ren’s hand, lacing my fingers between hers. “I think you were onto something with your s’mores metaphor. I’m beginning to understand. The bitterness makes the joy that much sweeter.”
Leaning in, I touch my lips to hers. They’re soft and warm from the shower, a stark contrast to the mint on her breath. I love kissing her. Being near her, breathing in the coconut scent of her shampoo, and the faint smell of baby powder that always clings to her. And how her heart races when we’re close. I can’t slow her down and I never want to.
* * *
After a busy weekend of meetings with lawyers, baby Gabby’s christening, and a secret trip to the tattoo shop, I’m in serious need of a quiet night, just Ren and me. I can’t wait to show her my new ink. Her shift ended an hour ago and she should be here any minute.
Opening the oven door, I pull out the pan of dark chocolate brownies, underbaked by just a few minutes so they’re still gooey on the inside—Mom’s secret brownie-baking trick.
As I sprinkle powdered sugar on top, the doorbell rings. I set down the shaker and wipe my hands on a paper towel walking to the door. Seeing her on the other side, my heart picks up an extra beat. “It’s about time,” I tease. Then my eyes land on her tank top and the way her breasts peek out the top.
She comes inside, flashing me an annoyed grin. “I can’t very well speed. Bad things happen when I speed.”
“Bad, huh?” I raise my eyebrow, unapologetically running a finger over her cleavage.
She glances down just as I stick my finger in the dip between her peaks, pulling the front of her shirt, hoping to get a better view. Giving me a little shimmy, she tosses the last Harry Potter DVD on the end table, and grins up at me. “Like what you see, Officer?”
I lean in, kissing her, running my hands down her back and over the curves of her ass. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“What is that divine smell?” She breaks out of my hold and beats a hasty path to the kitchen. “Brownies?” Her eyes light up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I may be hopeless on the dance floor, but at least I’ve got game in the kitchen.”
Tearing off a small corner of brownie, she pops it into her mouth and twists around, her eyes wide. “Don’t sell yourself short, Sinclair. You’ve got some serious game in the bedroom, too.”
God, I love her. I do. I love every goddamn cell of her.
Joining her at the stove, I pick up the small knife lying on the counter and cut a square. Prying it from the pan with my fingers, I bring it to her lips. “Keep talking like that and we’re not going to be watching any movie.”
She opens her mouth, taking a bite of the sticky brownie. My fingers are covered in chocolate. I reach for the paper towels, but Ren grabs my wrist. Wrapping her lips around my index finger, she starts to suck. Her tongue swirls around and around.
My whole body shudders. Dear fucking Christ.
Other parts of my body beg for the same attention.
When my index finger is clean, she licks at my thumb, guiding to her mouth, too.
“What movie?” she says, smiling coyly.
Grabbing her hand, I lead her back into the living room, down the hall, and into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us. I pull her arm with a little force, and our bodies come together with a thud.
“Oh,” she breathes.
I can’t take it anymore; I’m dizzy with want. Spinning us around, I shove her against the door and claim her mouth. She tastes like chocolate and Ren and I want to get lost in every part of her. Driving my tongue deeper, my body presses against hers, my arms caging her in.
Caught up, she bites my lower lip, and the metallic hint of blood lingers in my mouth. I want her so fucking bad. “Ren,” I moan, bringing my hand down, filling it with her breast. She leans her head against the door, panting, giving me access to her neck.
I lick the space just below her ear, loving the way her body rubs against mine with each heavy breath she takes. Working my way down her neck, I bite where her pulse beats out of control, feeling its rhythmic thump against my tongue.
Is it possible to crave another person? Need them like water, to sustain life? Ren is my life. And I will never stop needing…wanting…craving.
Ren trails her fingers across the back of my neck, her forearms pressing my head lower, guiding me to where she wants me. I drag my mouth over the tops of her breasts, kissing the charm that lies just above her valley. The faint scent of baby powder lingers on her skin, making my head spin.
Arching her back, her chest rises even more. “Cayden, touch me,” she whispers.
I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her eyes on me. “Where? Tell me what you want.”
Gripping her waist, I guide us to the bed and give her a gentle toss.
She bounces onto the mattress, her wavy hair landing in a mess against her face. Giggling, she sweeps her fingers through it, watching with wide eyes anticipating I’m going to do next.
“Tell me what you want, Ren,” I demand, again. “I know what I want…to please you. To touch every place that makes you quiver”—slowly, I stalk toward her—“to kiss every place that makes you cry out”—I crawl onto the bed, hovering—“to fill you and make you scream my name.”
My dick throbs against the zipper of my jeans, pained in its confined quarters.
Ren reaches up, her fingers digging into my shoulders. She pushes me back and I fall against the pillows at the headboard. Watching her, she climbs to her knees and starts working the button of my fly open. Her movements at my crotch brush against my hard-on, sending shivers down my spine. S
lowly, she lowers the zipper, licking her lips.
“Cayden,” she says, tugging at the sides of my jeans. “First, I want to put you in my mouth. It’s a fucking turn-on watching you come undone.”
Fuck. Me.
I lift my ass off the bed giving her the leverage she needs to pull my pants off, my dick springing free.
She grabs hold and my hips move of their own accord, thrusting fully into her palm. I suck in a breath, “Fuck, yes,” I moan, through clenched teeth, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
Slowly, she lowers her head, her mouth so hot and so close. She swirls her tongue around the tip, and my dick gets harder. Spasms of pleasure run through me. At this rate, I won’t last very long. She’s too much.
Licking the along my length, she hums. The vibration of her mouth sends heat pulsing at my core. Then like a lightning strike, she takes all of me, sucking my dick into her hot mouth. Her lips tighten around me, and using her hand and mouth, she works me over, hard and fast.
My hips give in to the rhythm and I fuck her mouth, taking more and more until my vision blurs and my balls ache, needing release. I’m on the brink of losing myself.
“Ren,” I growl. Digging my fingers into her shoulders, I push her off, and roll us so she’s under me. Ren grins, pleased with herself. “Uh-uh.” I shake my head. “I’m not coming that way.”
“One of these days, I’ll get you off,” she teases.
“Don’t doubt your mad skills, sweetheart. It’s not that you can’t.” I lean down to whisper the last part in her ear, “It’s that I like to be here”—I rub my fingers between her legs—“when I come.”
She sighs, grinding against my fingers.
Gently, I tug her shorts down, my fingers brushing along the smooth skin of her round hips, down her outer thighs, knees, calves, and slipping them over her ankles.
I run my finger over her panties, they’re slick between her legs. “Do I do this to you, sweetheart?” I say in her ear, touching her again.
She squirms and offers a raspy, “Yes.”
I touch her harder, my thumb pressing on the bundle of nerves at her core. She grinds against my hand, begging. “Cayden…”