The Real

by Kate Stewart

  Abbie’s Mac: Hickies are for High Schoolers and now you’re telling me I’m competing with a pit bull?

  Cameron’s Mac: You don’t have to suck, I don’t mind just your lips and tongue.

  His smile turned devilish as he typed.

  Cameron’s Mac: And I’ve known Veronica longer, she’s proven her loyalty.

  Abbie’s Mac: Ouch.

  Cameron’s Mac: Want me to come over there and attend to that? Just tell me where it hurts.

  Warmth flushed my body as his eyes swept me.

  Cameron’s Mac: You’re out of coffee.

  Inwardly, I sighed as he stood and walked over to retrieve my cup. He leaned down and picked it up so we were eye level. It was the first time we’d been face-to-face since we’d met, and I felt myself sink into the seat as his heated green eyes scanned my face.

  I felt it then, the undeniable pull, the buildup of attraction that flowed between us like a low lying electric current. It stunned me into clearing my throat. He picked up the cup and waited, for what I wasn’t sure. Licking my lips, I concentrated on his mouth, my heart pounding as he leaned in a little further, and then a little more. One inch would have our mouths meeting.

  My heart sputtered as blood flowed everywhere, circulating and collecting between my thighs. I wanted his kiss. I wanted it more than my next breath, the one he stole with his subtle inch forward. The sheer size of him was alluring on its own, never mind the intoxicating smell of leather and man that drifted into my nostrils. The man wore a cologne designed specifically to get me high.

  At that moment, I needed to feel the full, pale cherry-colored lips that waited in the breath between us. Just as I started to close the space, he stood, dashing my hopes as he walked away with a wink.

  He’d played me.

  Face flushed with lusty thoughts of my lips, his skin, my heart, his cock, my teeth, and his tongue invaded my head as I tried to get myself together. I was in pieces, and all he’d done was toy with me.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Did abstaining from the physical make a relationship more meaningful? Maybe, but before long, it was inevitable you’d end up like Cameron and me, skirting around the elephant in the room that refused to be camouflaged. Our relationship wasn’t based on sex, but we’d hit that crossroads. Our imaginations were taking over, and we were both thirsty.

  Was it time to take a drink?

  Take a drink, bitch.

  “Thanks, Bree,” I muttered.

  Minutes later, Cameron set my cup down on the table, and I ogled his tight ass before he took his own seat, too far away. When he was comfortable, he glanced my way and read my posture. I was fully turned on, and he’d done next to nothing. But the heat in my cheeks told me I was flushed, and I was swallowing repeatedly. I wanted him, and it was evident.

  Reflected in his eyes was a deadly combination of sex, desperate want, and intense need. Overwhelmed, I had no way to cope, and the only solution was to take a step in his direction. I wanted to lick the salt off his Adam’s apple, to feel his weight on top of me. I was there.

  Cameron’s Mac: Penny for your thoughts.

  Abbie’s Mac: No way.

  Cameron’s phone rattled on his table and I nodded toward it.

  Abbie’s Mac: Want to get that? It’s been buzzing for an hour.

  I played with the petals of the pink peony he’d brought me and then sheepishly glanced his way. His jaw ticked as he watched me. He hadn’t budged.

  Cameron’s Mac: Tell me, Abbie.

  It was a demand on his part, and I couldn’t blame him. I was equally as intrigued.

  Abbie’s Mac: You tell me.

  Another staredown.

  Cameron’s Mac: You sure you want the blunt truth?

  I slowly nodded.

  Cameron’s Mac: I want to make you come.

  I closed my eyes as my whole body shivered at his admission.

  Cameron’s Mac: I want to taste you in every way a man can taste a woman, savor you on my tongue and swallow.

  Cameron’s Mac: I’m dying to know what you sound like moaning my name. I’m fucking dying, Abbie, just to kiss you.

  Cameron’s Mac: But I can wait. I will wait. I will wait as long as it takes for you to look at me and have a decision made.

  Abbie’s Mac: Why me?

  Cameron’s Mac: Why not you? I’m not interested in anyfuckingthing else. Nothing. But. You. This, you and me, is all I look forward to. And it already feels better than all the woos before you. Want some more truth?

  Jesus, could I handle more? Hell yes I could. I nodded.

  Cameron’s Mac: Every night while I lay in bed, I stroke my cock thinking of you. And it’s been every single night for the last two weeks. Ever since you started looking at me that way.

  Abbie’s Mac: What way?

  Cameron’s Mac: The way you’re looking at me right now. Jesus, I’m hard, and I’m getting harder thinking about the kiss you almost gave me.

  Abbie’s Mac: You pulled away.

  Cameron’s Mac: I won’t do it again. Your turn. And don’t hold back.

  Lips parted, my erratic pulse made me glad I was sitting. Every limb in my body thrummed with the possibilities.

  Abbie’s Mac: I had an orgasm for every letter of your name last night.

  His eyes hooded as he read the words then looked over at me.

  Cameron’s Mac: When we leave here today, I want you to do the exact same thing. I want you to go home, slip your panties off, and touch yourself while thinking of me.

  Abbie’s Mac: Okay.

  Cameron’s Mac: Show me the finger you’ll use.

  I pressed my finger to my lips and sucked.

  Cameron’s Mac: Fuck. I need to go. Abbie, I have to go.

  Abbie’s Mac: Don’t go.

  Cameron’s Mac: I can’t stay a fucking minute longer and respect the rules.

  He glanced over at me, his eyes pulling me under. I was sure I was in need of a panty change. And even more so, I was frustrated I couldn’t bring myself to close my Mac and put us both out of our misery.

  Cameron’s Mac: I can’t stay. But I’ll keep waiting, Abbie. I promise. Meet me here tomorrow?

  Abbie’s Mac: Yes.

  My shoulders slumped as he packed his bag. Pushing out my lips, I protested, but he shook his head adamantly. Were we really going to leave each other to touch ourselves in bed?

  We were in a silent standoff. It was either pull the trigger and give into the physical or wait it out a little longer. Most of me told me to trust my gut, to try to trust him, but my head wasn’t ready. I sighed and grabbed my purse and my Mac. Cameron stood stoically, patiently waiting for me to leave.

  It was cruel to both of us, but we were still safe. All our good intentions toward the other kept intact. Our situation remained respectable, albeit the perverts that existed just under the surface were going to win the war that day.

  I hauled ass home, my limbs burning with ache, my skin on fire, and heart pounding at the fact he knew I was racing home to come with his name on my lips. And he was going to do the same.

  Abbie’s Mac: Hi. Sorry I’m late.

  Cameron’s Mac: You’re still late. I can’t see you.

  Abbie’s Mac: I’m here, but please don’t look for me!

  Cameron’s Mac: What?

  Abbie’s Mac: Stay where you are. I’m here. Just don’t come looking for me.

  Cameron’s Mac: Why?

  Out of breath, I began frantically typing.

  Abbie’s Mac: I’m having an off day and I didn’t have your number to let you know I couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to cancel.

  Before I could hit send, his message came through.

  Cameron’s Mac: You’re the most beautiful chipmunk I’ve ever seen.

  Tears of pain and humiliation filled my eyes. I lowered my head, pulling my beanie down as he stood in all his man-splendor, peering down at me, dimples blazing. He placed his Create, Hustle, Repeat cup next to mine then opened his Mac on
my table before taking the seat opposite me. I’d been hiding in the ivy plant section among the older, less used cups. He extended a soft pink buttercup toward me, and I took the flower. I moved to type a thank you, but he stilled my hands.

  “Tank you, uh, Denbist,” I pushed out between the bloody cotton.

  “Dentist? Wisdom teeth?” he whispered, his voice full of concern.

  Hastily, I nodded and typed in an attempt to silence him.

  Abbie’s Mac: I forgot I had an appointment. But we don’t need to break our routine. Please. Things are going so well.

  “Abbie,” he pleaded, commanding my eyes before he slowly reached across the table, tugging my hand away from the keyboard. I closed my eyes as he laced our fingers, his touch jarring me. I knew I looked like death—pale, jaw pounding, and mouth overstuffed with bloody gauze. Chin wobbling, I was visibly shaking from the pain because the Novocain was wearing off by the second.

  “You’re hurting. Did you take anything for the pain?” I shook my head and tried to pull my hand away from the comfort of his so I could explain.

  “No,” he said, condemning me while stroking my skin with his fingers. “Not today. Give me your phone,” he commanded. I pulled it out of my purse as he grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table next to us and wiped some drool from my mouth. I felt helpless against the pain-induced tear that trickled down my cheek.

  “I dibn’t have time to geb my perscibion filbed. I nind’t wan to not show up and you tink de worst.” I shook my head in frustration at my inability to finally talk to him. “Thib is cruel. Let’s twype.”

  He chuckled as he gently wiped at the corners of my mouth.

  “Abbie, there’s the chink in our armor, okay? We need to loosen up the rules a bit.” He grabbed my phone, held it out for me to unlock it, and when I did, he typed in his info. When he gave it back, I did my best to hide my grimace.

  “Okay?”

  “Otay,” I said around a mouthful of disadvantage.

  He reached for both hands and slid his fingers slowly through mine. My heart seized from his touch alone, but the look in his eyes was enough to have mine watering again, but for a different reason.

  It was all there. I was his girl and I was hurting, and it hurt him to see me that way. That’s what I saw, felt, and knew.

  “Can I take you home?” he asked as he slid the pads of his thumbs over the top of my hands.

  I shook my head. “I don’t live faw. Bree is combing.”

  “I’ll wait with you.”

  Minutes later, and driven by a need to get closer, I was comfortably resting in Cameron’s arms in the booth surrounded by trickling ivy. It was a different world from the one we’d both grown comfortable in. His clean-scented cologne surrounded me as I sat nestled against his tall frame. I fit perfectly in his strong arms, with one hand resting on his chest, his head tilted down as he spoke softly to me.

  He spared me from talking by telling me a little about his week. He had met a few of his favorite jocks, who were shooting a commercial for a new line of sportswear his stores carried. I wasn’t much for sports, but I was one hundred percent for the man who spoke with childlike enthusiasm about his personal rock stars.

  He also told me that he’d started watching Mindhunter—a show about two FBI agents delving into the psychology of murder. I knew my slow building, drool-filled smile looked goofy, but I couldn’t, for the life of me, stop it. He’d taken an interest in something that fascinated me. He kept his tone low, and his deep baritone whisper was as soothing as the hand that covered mine on his chest. The timbre of his voice lulled me into a stupor as I tried to keep my aching and stretched mouth closed. Cameron stroked my fingers delicately as I peered up at him. Head tilted back, I memorized the fullness of his lips, noted a faint white scar at the edge of his temple, and the fan of his dark lashes. He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man I’d ever dated.

  I found myself needing to make sure that was the case. I wanted more. I was ready. My gut, heart, and my mind, for the first time in a year, were in agreement. And I wanted him to know our relationship had turned into more. I didn’t, for any reason, want it to be less than the beginning of something between us.

  Want was quickly turning into need as he cradled me and paused his story to gauge my expression. He had to have seen it all there, but I decided to try to verbalize it anyway. “Cambron,” I whispered.

  Thank you for waiting.

  You’re so perfect.

  I want you so bad.

  Does this feel as good to you?

  Gently cupping my jaw, he leaned down and spoke, a centimeter from my lips, and addressed my unspoken thoughts. “Me too.” He rubbed his thumb across my lower lip. “I can’t wait to take you away from here, anywhere.” His deep green eyes scoured my features and landed longingly on my mouth as he slipped my beanie off and ran his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. “And kiss these lips.”

  I knew I looked hideous, yet the man was treating me like I was his catnip.

  “Okay.”

  He chuckled. “Okay.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek then the corner of my mouth.

  Content in his lap, my bliss was interrupted by the arrival of my escort home.

  “Well, isn’t this the shit. You two look cozy,” Bree said as she approached our table with a warm smile. “Cameron, good to see you. I’ve heard nothing but good things.” Her voice low, and in a playful warning, added, “Keep it that way.”

  Her eyes found mine and she winced as she looked at my swollen mouth. “Ouch, babe. Let’s get you medicated and get you home.” She pulled out the prescription I begged her to pick up for me and handed me two pills as she spoke to Cameron. “This stuff renders her unconscious in minutes. We’ll have to make this quick.”

  Cameron stiffened beneath me as I popped the pills into my mouth and sipped the water bottle I had on my table. He warily eyed the bottle of pills as I put them in my purse.

  Bree noticed his reaction.

  “Just a few low dose Percocet to take the edge off,” she assured him. “Let me grab a coffee and I’ll get you home.” I gave her a careless nod, still entranced in willing captivity of the man holding me. I sank further under his spell before waving her away.

  All-knowing Bree looked between us as I tried to get myself together. I was sure I looked needy and desperate, like a lovesick teenager curled in his lap.

  Zero shits were given as I imagined having lip access to every inch of his skin. I curled my fingers in his crisp shirt, tucking them beneath the seams to touch his skin. He let out a low groan as his amused eyes found mine when we were free of interruption. There was so much light in them. I hoped what I saw was a mirrored reflection of what he could feel from me.

  At that moment, I was transparent, and I knew it. I wasn’t doing anything to stop it. I had no fear. I wanted it, wanted us. To belong, not to just a man, but the man who held me. Warmth spread throughout my limbs as my body shuddered with sparked need. The pain was dull in comparison to the reaction of his touch, his words, the look in his eyes.

  “I wish I knew what you were thinking,” he said softly.

  “Happy,” I managed to say clearly while my heart pounded inches from his, in an attempt to communicate what it felt.

  His eyes closed briefly, and when he graced me with them again, I saw a hint of vulnerability.

  “Abbie,” he whispered, his voice strained. My heart crashed against my chest as he bent and placed a barely-there kiss to my parted lips. Fearful of my breath, I shook my head, warning him away. I could taste the copper on my tongue, and I tried my best to clamp my mutilated mouth shut.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t take that as our first kiss, either. And you are worth every second of the wait.”

  Far too soon, Bree was back with her coffee, and I was forced away from my Cameron cocoon. Reluctantly, he stood, keeping me close as he walked us to the door of the café. My mind was starting to cloud as the pills began to kick in. I
was a lightweight when it came to the effects of any medication.

  “I’ll text you tonight,” he whispered before he placed a kiss on my temple then gave a warm farewell to Bree.

  Our fingers were the last things to separate.

  I woke to the sound of a garbage truck, feeling as if said garbage truck had backed up at top speed and dumped its load in my mouth. Flexing my angry jaw, I felt like I was still in a drug-induced haze. I was trying to convince myself to get my lazy ass out of bed when my phone buzzed on my nightstand.

  Cameron would like to Facetime.

  “Oh shit,” I screeched as I pulled my comforter up to cover myself. My finger hovered before I decided to hell with it and unlocked the screen to answer it. Cameron appeared in what looked like his kitchen.

  “Hey, beautiful, how are you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” I said truthfully. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer last night. Those pills knocked me out.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “It’s fine. I was sure they would.”

  I quickly ran my hands through my hair. I knew I must’ve looked like a mess. “I probably look terrible.”

  “Not at all, you look comfortable,” he said as his eyes scoured me, making my heart dance.

  “So, that’s your place?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’m home. I was just about to head out to meet Max and school him on the court.”

  “So, he’s no competition?”

  I felt disgusting from sleeping so long. I needed a shower and a toothbrush. Still, I did my best to seem casual, though the invasion of his face while I lay in my bed had me a little hot under the sheets. The man was chiseled glory, and I couldn’t wait for my real first kiss. I was like a giddy teenager who got the call from the boy she’d been waiting for.

  Except this was no boy. He was six-foot plus perfection.

  “None. I ruin Max every time I win. I live to piss him off.”

  “I want to meet him one day,” I said with a grin. “He’ll give me the dirt on you.”

  “You’ll never meet him now,” he said playfully.

  “Show me your place?” I asked, curious. I imagined Cameron’s home to be a real bachelor pad of a grown-up nature. He had impeccable taste in clothing, so I assumed he had the same taste in furnishings.