by Kate Stewart
I shook my head and mouthed a “no.”
He mouthed “yes.”
It was at that moment I realized I didn’t want anything coming between us. I was too addicted to the happiness I felt with him. It was a dangerous game because I didn’t know how exchanging our forgotten baggage would affect us or how he would view mine with Luke—which seemed to be less of a task to admit the longer we stayed together.
I typed my words slowly, not ready for the answer.
Abbie’s Mac: Will it change things between us?
Cameron’s expression was more solemn than I’d ever seen it.
Abbie’s Mac: Then no.
Cameron’s Mac: Things have changed.
Abbie’s Mac: But they don’t have to.
Cameron’s Mac: I meant for the better.
My fingers hovered over the keys.
I knew he loved me.
Isn’t saying you’re falling the same thing? Can you really stop yourself once you’ve started? I’ve never found that possible, especially not with the man sitting across from me.
I knew no matter what his bags held I was in love with him and that wouldn’t change. I opted for safe and prayed whatever his held didn’t come with a price I couldn’t pay.
I stared at him long and hard. Cameron wasn’t the type of man to harbor sick tendencies. But I’d thought the same thing of Luke.
Whatever it was he was trying to confess, I thought it was more major in his mind than it would be in mine. Then again, I was too much of a coward to find out.
He was everything I wanted. Honest to a fault, highly intelligent, self-reliant, successful, thoughtful, and highly sexual, which I didn’t know I needed until I found him.
If we could keep going a little longer without our scars weighing us down, I knew the strength of our relationship would grow. It had only been months. Mere months with him and my whole life had changed. I’d been flipped upside down, hit hard with a love I knew I would feel for a lifetime.
Still, I couldn’t help but type out the words.
Abbie’s Mac: Tell me.
I deleted each letter one by one and sent the coward’s response.
Abbie’s Mac: Not yet. Please.
His posture told me he was just as wary of the exchange, but he was calling it, and I still wasn’t ready to show my cards. I wasn’t ashamed of what happened. I wasn’t even afraid to talk about it, but I didn’t want to.
Our relationship was too perfect. Too right.
Fuck Luke. He had no place in our lives. We were happy. That was our present and future; the past could only disrupt it.
Abbie’s Mac: Not tonight.
Cameron’s Mac: Okay.
Abbie’s Mac: Okay?
He gave me a small smile, despite his worry etched features.
Cameron’s Mac: Love your cup.
I lifted the mug up that read You are the luckiest guy in the world. I would love to be dating me. and gave him a wistful grin.
Abbie’s Mac: Don’t blame me for all the bedding. You know I’ve never been this horny in my adult life. You’ve changed me.
Cameron’s Mac: I’m proud my new girlfriend is insatiable. Who knew you were such a pervert?
Abbie’s Mac: Your wicked tongue drew it out of me. I have to say I’m just as surprised as you are.
Cameron’s Mac: Spread your legs a little, baby.
My lips parted at his candor, but I didn’t hesitate to show him my lacy, bright pink panties.
Cameron’s Mac: Nice.
Abbie’s Mac: They’d look better on my floor.
Cameron scanned the café. We were mostly alone in our section. And those sitting in it had their heads buried in their devices.
Cameron’s Mac: Move them to the side.
Abbie’s Mac: What happened to getting back to the basics of us?
Cameron’s eyes stayed heated as he adjusted his cock and began to type.
My movement stopped as he kept his eyes glued to my hand that slipped beneath the table before I pushed my panties to the side.
Cameron’s Mac: Fuuuuuuck.
I was tempted to type with one hand.
Abbie’s Mac: Say the word and we can be at my place in minutes.
Cameron’s Mac: Abbie . . .
Abbie’s Mac: I keep thinking about the night in the back of the limo. I want a repeat.
I licked my lips to show which part of said indiscretion I was talking about.
Cameron’s Mac: Jesus. You will be my undoing. Behave yourself.
Abbie’s Mac: Too bad.
Since the winter formal, we’d done nothing but feast on the other, and even on Super Bowl Sunday—a day Cameron donned a holiday—it took a back seat to our thirst.
We’d managed to catch the end of the game at Pint—a local pub on Milwaukee Ave and Cameron’s favorite—with Bree and Anthony. But upon our disheveled arrival, they both knew what we’d been up to.
With my family, Super Bowl Sunday together was tradition due to my dad’s fandom, and my brother was more than peeved when I told him my whereabouts.
“All that guilt about keeping with the family and you ditch Gorman tradition to slum it where?”
“Pint, it’s a little pub in Wicker. Cameron’s favorite.”
“You are so on my shit list,” Oliver whined.
“Hey, for once I get to be the bad kid. I’m cool with that.”
“I heard that,” my mother yelled in the background.
“Have fun, kiddo,” my father yelled after. My dad was always the encouraging one.
“Get me off speaker phone, Dr. Dick.”
“Bring him here,” Oliver said with authority.
“Not yet. Soon.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last time,” he warned.
“Don’t do that, Oliver. You need to trust me. I’ve had a hard enough time doing it myself.”
“Fine. Bree likes him?”
“Yes,” I said with a grin as I watched Bree and Cameron go back and forth as I stood in a quieter spot in the corner of the pub. I was dressed in the oversized jersey Cameron had gifted me hours earlier. Only, as I got dressed, he’d decided to peel it back off.
“Then I guess I’ll give you a pass. But, Abbie . . . just be careful.”
“He’s not Luke. Not by a longshot.”
“I believe you.”
“Good.”
“I’ll pick up your slack this time, but you owe me.”
“I owe you nothing, Oliver, and I’m all too happy to recount the days and dates of the reasons why.”
“Whatever,” he said with a chuckle.
“Love you, bye.”
Right at the moment I ended the call, Cameron looked around the bar in search of me, and when his eyes found mine, he gave me his ‘come-hither’ finger. I loved that finger, and the hand, and the man attached to it.
We spent the second half of the game downing beers and catching each other’s eyes. I knew all too well it was the honeymoon phase of our relationship. I was no fool, and I was going to eat up every minute of it.
And sitting across from him in the café, all I could think of was the way he felt when he was closer, so much closer.
I knew Cameron was thinking the same as he engaged me while I ran my finger along the edge of my cup, then sucked the caramel off, inching my legs further apart.
His gaze hot on my hand, need ate up his features. I felt powerful.
“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting over here all alone.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the voice to the left of me. I clamped my legs shut and glared at Cameron, who was so entranced by the movement below he had failed to give me the heads up above.
Confused eyes turned icy as he stared holes through the man who spoke to me in a low beckon.
“I would love to buy you a cup of coffee,” he said as I twisted my head in the politest reception I could muster.
Cameron’s eyes blazed as I gave attention to the interloper, who was oblivious to
the tension in the air.
“I’m Patrick,” he said, taking the seat next to mine. “I was just admiring you and wanted to see if you would be interested in more coffee or maybe some lunch?”
I gave him a sincere smile. He seemed like a nice enough guy. And four months ago, I might have considered it.
He was the light to Cameron’s dark features—blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin like mine.
But he wasn’t Cameron, so that made him not my type.
“Thank you so much for the offer, but I’m seeing someone.”
“Does this guy have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Cameron’s Mac: I will strangle that fucking douche bag with his own necktie. Tell him to fuck off, Abbie.
“He’s told me once or twice,” I told Patrick with a shrug.
Cameron’s Mac: I told you last night before I stuck my tongue between your legs and you called me Jesus.
I bit my lips to keep from laughing.
Cameron’s eyes fired, and his nostrils flared. He’d never been so possessive, but he’d never had reason to be.
Cameron’s Mac: Don’t play games, get rid of him. My cock is so hard right now, I can’t stand, but I will, woman. I’ll show the whole coffeehouse my hard-on. You want that on your conscience?
“So, are you two serious? Because I would hate to catch him slipping,” Patrick said carefully. I let his arrogance slide past me as the man opposite me began to white-knuckle his table.
“You know, I’m not sure. We were just talking about it. He seems to think we’re just sexual.”
Cameron’s Mac: Nice twist full of bullshit, Abigail. I will club you on the head Neanderthal style with this cock and drag you out of the coffee shop if you push me an inch further.
I let out a loud laugh and threw my head back. Cameron’s eyes flared again while he scrutinized Patrick and then kicked back in his seat in challenge.
He closed his laptop and packed it in his leather bag. He was done asking. It was a power play and clear alpha move on his part. I found it sexy as hell, albeit redundant.
But he wanted me. He made it clear. And in no way did I want to ruin that with any sort of game.
“I’m in love with him,” I said to Patrick as I spoke directly to Cameron. “I’ve never been in so deep with anyone. I couldn’t even entertain your invitation for a second. So, again, thank you, Patrick, but it’s very serious.”
Cameron stood then. Our jig was up as Patrick looked between us, read our posture, sheepishly apologized, and was ignored by us both as he walked away.
Cameron’s eyes nailed me where I sat as he made quick work of grabbing his bag and getting to my table.
“Let’s go,” he said as I gathered my things. I tried to read his expression and came up empty.
I couldn’t tell if he was still angry while he followed me out, his hand possessively on my lower back, guiding me. When we stepped outside the café, he gripped my hand and began to walk toward my house.
He took long strides, and I struggled to keep up. His steps purposeful and his silence agony, I stumbled behind him in a plea.
“Cameron? What’s wrong?”
He ignored me and kept moving while the chill, both in the air and in his demeanor, sobered me up.
Was I wrong? Had I misjudged his feelings, his words? He’d all but confessed his love and intentions for us.
“Cameron, please say something,” I begged as I took two steps to his one. He raced us through my gate and pounded up my steps.
“I’m sorry if—”
“Open the door, Abbie,” he ordered as I fumbled with my keys, my heart heavy.
Stupid, stupid. I should have never confessed how I felt first. But did I?
It didn’t seem possible with all that had happened between us.
He kicked the door shut while I rushed through my living room toward my kitchen. Reeling from the change in his behavior, I opened my fridge and grabbed a water, gulping it down as he stood on the other side of the counter, hands in his pockets.
My blue eyes were engulfed by the intense green blaze and I swallowed while the sweat dried on my forehead.
“Say it again.”
“Cameron,” I pleaded, terrified by the tone of his voice. “The moment has passed, don’t you think?”
“No,” he argued quickly and shook his head. “Not at all. Say it.”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” I said with a shaky voice. “Clearly, I got the wrong impression.”
“Clearly, you don’t know the lengths I would go to hear you say those words to me again, Abbie. Say them.”
“No,” I said with contempt. “Maybe you think I’m taking our relationship lightly, but I’m not. This isn’t a game for me. I got a little carried away back there, but in no way should you punish me for saying how I felt in that moment.”
“I’m not punishing you.”
“Feels like it,” I said, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“And how do you feel now?”
I crossed my arms in front of me and spoke low. “The same.”
He audibly exhaled. “Then say those words to me.”
I scowled at him. “What kind of head trip are you on?”
“Why can’t you just do it?”
“Because I meant it, okay? And you’re acting a little too . . . you’re scaring me.”
I was shaking, and he could see it. He moved toward me as he spoke and gripped my shoulders.
“You’re scared?”
“Yes,” I whispered.”
“Good, because with you I’m a lot of fucking things. I’m a lot crazy about you, I’m a lot terrified, I’m a lot possessive, and that’s new to me. I’m dangerously in love with you, so much so that I’m going to lose my fucking mind if you don’t tell me again that you feel the same. Because I love you, Abbie. I have since before I confessed I was falling, and I kept it to myself for so long that it’s been agony waiting for you. So please. Say it.”
My lips parted, and the words fell easily.
“I love you. I do, so much,” I said as he closed the space between us and smashed his mouth to mine.
Captive in his hold, he kissed me mercilessly, his tongue flicking over mine in long, languid strokes. His seduction was on the back burner of his emotion-filled kiss. I felt the hesitance in his touch only next to insistence that I believe his earnest heart over the bulge in his pants. Our connection only turned to fire when I pulled away on a breath.
“Please touch me, Cameron. It’s much too late to keep us from getting burned,” I begged as I gripped the back of his head and raked my fingers through the hair there.
“I love you,” he murmured as he trailed a soft kiss down my jaw. “Fuck, I need you.” He lifted my hands above my head and held them there. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”
“You won’t do that by touching me,” I promised as he lifted my sweater over my head before his impatient lips found mine. Mouths fused, I unzipped his slacks while he pulled my leggings down mid-thigh before he turned me to face the counter.
He pressed my head down, flattening my breasts as he pressed himself fully inside me. We both sank a little once connected.
“It’s yours, Cameron. It’s all yours.”
“Fuck yes, it is,” he said as he reached around and pressed a finger to my clit while I hung on the tips of my toes. Impaled, I loved every second of it as he pulled back and pushed in deeper than he’d ever gone.
I felt myself fold then, my body convulsing as he sped up his thrusts, his powerful thighs anchoring me while he pressed in and hit me so deeply I grappled with the stars I saw.
“Yes,” he hissed out aggressively as if he were angry I hadn’t waited for him.
“Please more, please,” I begged as he sank in deep and then pulled back, pressing me down again and pushing in just . . . so. My orgasm shot through me in waves, my legs shaking from his deep penetration.
“Oh my God!” I screamed as my body detonated from the inside ou
t.
“That’s possession, baby. That’s the part that I need to own aside from what beats in your chest. I’m taking the rest,” he whispered before he licked the skin of my back while he feathered his lips across what he left wet.
I was still trembling with my release when he reared back, pressed his finger to my clit, and hit me again. My legs gave out beneath me, and Cameron caught me by the hips while I gripped my counter for leverage.
I couldn’t stop my body’s response. I just kept falling apart with every other strong stroke, and he refused to let up.
“Cameron,” I begged as he slid in precisely, letting me know he knew exactly what he was doing, and his intent to claim me. He’d always known.
“I can’t. I can’t.”
“Come,” he commanded as he swiveled back in, finishing me again. My mind blown, I realized it was his last card to play, and he’d waited to use it because I meant more to him than the act of sex.
And he could’ve so easily used this side of him for leverage. Our sex had always been intimate, hot, incredible, but something about the way he took me that night was primal, animalistic. He’d been an expert at this card and refused to use it to get what he wanted from me, but by playing it, he claimed all of me.
“I love you,” I breathed out through clenched teeth as he took me again and again, breaking my hold on reality as I lost myself in his love and his body.
I was owned from that moment forward, irrevocably his.
We sank onto my kitchen floor after endless minutes of mind-blowing sex, and I curled into his lap, our clothes still partially on as we caught our breath.
His face was still intent as he looked down at me cradled in his hold.
“Abbie, I had no idea what this would be. You have to believe I didn’t know it was you I was looking for. This, us, it means everything to me. I didn’t expect this.”
“Me either.”
He held me tightly to him and kissed me again, sweeping me away.
“Cameron, your phone,” I said with a groan. I heard the shower running as I looked on the nightstand.
“Cameron,” I said a little louder.
I looked over at it to see twenty missed calls from the same number flashing along with a few notification texts, so I carried it into the bathroom.