by Brynne Asher
“No?” Brian looks back to Cam. “Who in the hell are you anyway, coming in here demanding to stay when she wants you gone. You have no place demanding anything and there’s no way I’m leaving if she doesn’t want you here.”
“Yeah? You have your tongue in her mouth and your hands on her body in the past week?” Cam shoots back. I see Brian flinch as I gasp. He did not just say that. “I didn’t think so, but I have. That gives me the right to demand I have a word with her, which I’m gonna fucking do.”
I look at Cam standing across my apartment full of purpose. I’m shocked beyond words at his blow to Brian, but I have to look away when I hear from my side, “Him? You’re serious?”
“Brian,” I whisper because I don’t know what else to say.
I know he wants more from me than friendship. He’s given me hints and clues over the past few months and I only have myself to blame right now for not putting a definite kibosh to it. A flash washes over his face with what looks like the hurt I’ve been trying to tuck away all day. I feel a pang of guilt bubbling inside me for not taking care of this long ago when I should have.
I start to move to him, but he steps back, his hurt turning to anger. He quickly narrows his eyes on me before asking with contempt, “This is what you want? Him?”
“Please, let me—”
He interrupts me. “I waited for you.”
“What?” I ask, surprised by his declaration.
“Years.” He leans toward me, spitting his words with anger. “Fucking years, I waited for you. You’ve been so busy playing the good-girl-best-friend, I never had my in. It’s getting old, Paige, watching you be too perfect, dating a guy a couple times then cutting him loose when he’s gagging for it. I was waiting for my time so you didn’t cut me loose like all the other pathetic bastards who lost their shot at you. But when I finally think it’s time to make my move, this fucking guy gets your attention?” he yells, pointing to Cam but never taking his eyes off me.
I take a step back and try to control my breathing. I have to bite my lip hard to fight my tears and only have eyes for Brian when I say in a low voice, “I do not do that.”
“Oh really? You don’t? I’ve been sitting back watching it since college,” he yells.
“Watch it.” I hear Cam move closer, but I can’t look away from the very angry Brian. This is a side of him I’ve never seen.
“I am not a tease,” I whisper this time because it’s all I can muster and feel the tears start to build.
“No, you’re not,” Brian weirdly agrees. “You don’t have to be. You’re just fucking you and barely give any man the time of day, let alone tease him. But the promise of you is worth it. I should fucking know.”
“That’s it, get out,” Cam growls and moves between Brian and me.
Brian puts a hand up to Cam but thunders at me, “If this is what you want, Paige, have at it.”
With nothing else to do, I stand here and watch who I thought was my friend turn to stalk out the door, slamming it behind him. Cam slowly turns, watching me carefully.
Finally, after my long night, my long day, my anger, my hidden hurt, and now my guilt, I have nothing left. Not only do I have my thing with Cam to worry about, but now Brian’s words are ringing in my head. I blink back my tears, but I know I look and sound defeated when I whisper, “Please, Cam. Just leave.”
He stands where he is for a beat before he drops his arms and slowly closes the distance between us. He moves in close and brings his hands up to my face, spanning my jaw, and slides his fingers up into my hair around my ears.
Feeling defeated, I don’t have the energy to pull back. His touch makes me weak and I hate that he can make me weak. I hate that the moment he touches me, I feel like I lose myself. But what I hate even more is just yesterday I would’ve done anything to lose myself in his touch and, now, as much as I want to pull away, I can’t. It’s not me. It’s not who I’ve ever been. At this point, I don’t even know which me I’d choose, but I have the dreaded feeling it’s no longer a choice.
Having lost myself, I let him tip my head and he gives me his blue eyes. His gaze drags over my face before his goateed framed lips come down as he pulls me up where he kisses me. This kiss couldn’t be more different than his others. It’s not long, it’s not deep, and there’s no tongue. His kiss is soft, sweet, and lingers just enough to make me want more and I hate myself all over again for wanting more. My eyes go heavy and before I know it, I hear and feel him pull in a breath before letting it go. I finally open my eyes to look at him.
Looking down, he says full of meaning, “Forget everything he said. I’ve known you a week and I know it’s not true. And baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
Well, shit. He sounds serious. I have a feeling I’ll have to white knuckle my blue ribbon so he doesn’t rip it away from me.
Chapter Eleven
Earth Shattering
Paige
It takes everything I have, but I gather up all my energy and put my hands on his wrists to pull away. I do everything I can not to think about his soft kiss and focus on how mean he was to Brian, even if Brian’s words were hurtful.
“I can’t believe you said that. It was cruel and he didn’t deserve it. And you talking about last night in front of him? That was low and you know it.” I grab on to my anger and move to get Brian’s plate before heading to the kitchen.
“I couldn’t sit here and let him talk to you like that. He wants you and he’s jealous,” Cam says, his voice edging on angry.
I throw him a dirty look over my shoulder. “You think I don’t know that? I’m not an idiot. I’ve been trying to put him off gently for months now. I might be inexperienced but I’m not stupid.”
He lowers his voice with a warning. “Paige.”
“Cam,” I mock.
I hear him sigh. Taking my anger and hurt out on the plate, I clean it and flip on the garbage disposal, letting it run longer than necessary, just because. I slam the dish in the dishwasher, finally turning back to him. He’s crossed his arms and is shaking his head per usual. He takes in his surroundings and mutters, “I don’t like you here.”
I ignore him, because all of a sudden Brian’s words resonate. I feel the need to say something, explain somehow. Defend myself.
“I,” I start and have to take a deep breath. “I’ve never tried to lead anyone on. What Brian said, I’ve never wanted that to happen, with anyone.”
Cam tips his head a bit, “I believe you. But he’s also right. You’re you and you don’t need to try. I should know after the last week. But right now I’m thinking I’m the idiot of the bunch that had a shot at you and fucked it up.” I have nothing to say to that and Cam breathes deep. His blue eyes turn intense when he states, “All day, Paige.”
I frown and tip my head.
“All day,” he repeats. “I’ve tried to stay away from you. Leave you be—like I should’ve done last night.”
I close my eyes and turn my head to the side. I feel it creeping in, but I do my best to keep it at bay. I look back and say as sharply as I can muster, “Then why are you here?”
“I can’t help it,” he says, almost irately. “For some reason you’ve pulled me in and I can’t let go. It doesn’t matter what you give me. After only a week, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”
“And you’re angry at me?” I ask, perplexed. I mean, he’s just too ridiculous for words.
“No, dammit. I’m pissed at myself. I’m a grown fucking man with kids, a business and another fulltime job. I should be able to keep myself away when I know I should,” he growls.
“How about I make it easy on you? I’m telling you to leave, again.”
He ignores my demand for him to leave. “I never would’ve guessed that about you. The way you are, the way you look? You don’t carry yourself as inexperienced.”
“Glad I hide it so well,” I jibe.
“How has someone like you not been snatched up by now? That other guy sure wants y
ou.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You haven’t wanted anyone?” he stresses, as if me not wanting anyone by now is the most perplexing concept he’s ever pondered.
Frustrated, I throw my arms out to the side. “Why are we talking about this? I thought you were going to say what you came to say and leave.”
He raises his voice and leans forward enunciating his next words, “We’re talking about this because you’re a twenty-six-year-old virgin who runs so fucking hot for me and even though you’re a pain in the ass half the time, you melt the second I lay my hands on you. I want to know how you got to where you are without fucking combusting.”
I cannot believe him.
“I do not,” I yell, but it’s in a panic because he has me figured out. He knows too much about me as it is and I hate that. I want to be done with this and for him to leave.
He tips his head and simply states, “Baby.”
“I don’t.”
“You know you do.” He softens his voice a bit. “Why did you let me touch you?”
I feel my face immediately warm with the memory. I drop my head so I don’t have to look at him.
“Has anyone ever touched you?” he keeps on even softer.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn from him, facing the sink and lean forward on my hands. I’m not sure how I expected this to go, but not like this. This is humiliating.
Many moments later I feel him at my back and he puts his hands to my hips, rounding my middle, pressing in.
“Quit doing that,” I complain.
He speaks with his lips against my hair. “Quit doing what?”
“Pinning me to stuff. Walls, counters, I don’t like it.”
“You liked it yesterday.” He sounds proud of himself.
“Well, I don’t like it anymore.”
“Settle down,” he says quietly, giving me a squeeze.
“Let me go, Cam.”
“No.”
I exhale and let my shoulders slump because I don’t know what more to say. This is all too much—too overwhelming—and I really need to be by myself.
He keeps his voice low, his lips moving against the top of my head. “You surprised me.”
I don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. His surprise was obvious enough in a bad way.
“I didn’t know what to do with it.”
Still, no response is needed.
“I was an ass. I shouldn’t have left you,” he keeps on quietly.
He’s right, but I can’t respond because I feel it edging in and I need to fight it back.
His face comes down to the side of my head and I feel his goatee at my ear where he repeats in a softer whisper, “I shouldn’t have left you, baby.”
I give my head a small shake and squeeze my eyes from the burn of my damn tears. The hurt has slithered in and there’s no keeping it at bay. It’s taken over, washing my anger clean away, taking my blue ribbon with it.
“I’m glad you told me when you did. I’d feel even more of an ass if I hadn’t stopped. But I’ve gotta know. Why did you let me touch you?”
I shake my head because there’s no way I’m answering that.
“Paige?”
“Please stop talking,” I beg.
His arms part, his right hand drops to my left hip and his left comes up to cup the far side of my face, criss-crossing the front of my body holding me tight. “We’re not stopping. Tell me why.”
I shake my head.
He pulls me into him tighter. “You wanted it?”
I suck in a big breath of air and squeeze my eyes tighter, but the tears leak through.
“You wanted it,” he whispers his question as a statement this time.
My voice turns shaky. “You left.”
His arms loosen and he turns me. I stare at his chest until his hands on my face force me to look up. His eyes wander my features and his thumbs swipe my tears. He finally sighs and admits, “You surprised me and I don’t like to be surprised. I’ve never been with a virgin before.”
Even through my rollercoaster ride of emotions and lack of sleep, I can’t help myself when I roll my teary eyes, exasperated. “Really? I’ve never been with anyone and that’s your excuse?”
He shakes his head slowly and narrows his eyes. “This is you being a pain in the ass, by the way. Why do I get off on that?”
“I’ve no idea,” I mutter, wiping my face and try to pull away from him. He doesn’t let me and snakes his arms around pulling me in tight where I feel his big hard body against mine. And just like last night, his body, so strong and warm, wrapped around me feels too good. I can’t help but let myself melt into him and say against his chest, “I’m tired.”
I feel his hand snake up my back and into my hair where he tips my head and declares, “You need to relax.”
“I don’t need to relax. I need sleep, which means you need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving, darlin’.” His eyes warm and he starts to turn us, forcing me backwards. “When I say you need to relax, I mean you need to relax.”
“What are you doing?” I start to panic, trying to push away from him. He won’t let me go and he’s moving us down the short hall past my bathroom and around the corner. I start to get anxious, because he’s heading straight to my bedroom. He’s never been here, but it’s not like my room would be hard to find. My apartment is small, there’s only one way to go, and he’s on a mission because before I know it, we’re standing in the middle of my small bedroom. I frown and repeat, “Really, you need to go.”
He ignores me and stops to look around. I know my apartment is ugly, but I like my room. I’ve got a queen bed that’s dressed in neutral colors of beige, creams, whites, with a hint of celery green. My duvet is fluffy and comfortable, the feather pillows are filled with down, and my sheets are Egyptian cotton. Gabby helped me shop for furniture—most of it came from garage sales or thrift stores. We refinished the dresser and nightstand, leaving the tall antique chest the way it was. It looks a little beat and battered, like it might’ve come over on the Mayflower, but I like it the way it is so we left it be.
I push away, once again feeling small standing in Cam’s arms smack dab in the middle of my bedroom. I will myself to not want him here, but can’t help the rush of nervousness mixed with excitement. I do my best to ignore all that and repeat, “What are you doing?”
He looks down with a half-smirk. “I told you, you need to relax. I’m gonna make that happen.”
I feel my eyes get big. “Quit telling me to relax.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to do anything,” he says right before his face comes down to mine. I pull my head back and to the side trying to avoid him, but his mouth lands on my jaw under my ear, tickling me with his goatee. His lips move on my neck and I feel his tongue dart out, giving me goosebumps.
“Cam, stop,” I call again, but it comes out lame.
He won’t let me go. My hands work their way up his arms, letting one of them wrap around the back of his neck and the other fisting his t-shirt. He drops a hand to my ass, but this time dips inside my cotton shorts and gives me a quick squeeze over my panties. This surprises me but he pulls away, letting me go, forcing me to balance myself on a step back. I see his arm go up and reaching behind his head and he yanks his t-shirt off, letting it flutter to the floor.
I’m speechless as I stand here gaping. He really is a brick wall, just as I thought. He’s all muscle, every single one of them powerful, defined, and beautifully shaped, one molding into the next like a sculpted piece of art. Starting at the top where he’s broad and thick, he narrows slightly where my eyes travel down past his abs that descends to his waist. His muscles V, disappearing into athletic shorts that hang low on his hips—his underwear band peeking out the top like they’re teasing me with the hint of what’s encased. I drag my eyes up to his when he steps back, toeing out of his running shoes and then bends to yank off his socks.
“Cam—” I
frown and exhale at the same time.
“You’re tired.” He tells me something I already know. However, I think I might’ve just gotten my second wind—maybe my fourth or fifth, it has been a long day—from Cam standing in my bedroom stripping out of his clothes. He reaches into his pockets and tosses his cell, wallet, and keys on my nightstand. “And I’m not leaving you tonight.”
“What?” But before I have a chance to think any further on what he’s saying, he puts his hands to his waistband and I can’t help but yell, “Cam!”
He stills and tips his head. “Don’t worry, we’re only gonna sleep. I don’t know where this is going between us, but I think we both want to find out. We’ll take all the time you need and only do what you want, when you want to do it. But I can’t leave you after last night, so I’m stayin’.”
He’s staying?
And with that, he pushes his shorts down and they fall to the floor before he kicks them aside. I find myself standing in my bedroom, gazing at Campbell Montgomery looking like an underwear model from a glossy magazine advertisement. He’s wearing nothing but those tight man underwear in dark gray that are fitted down to his upper thighs, the waistband informing me he prefers Calvin Klein. His thighs are bigger and thicker than they felt the other day while pressing me into the wall. There’s no question he was a football player, he’s nothing but thick muscle and looks as if he could burst out of his Calvin Klein’s just by flexing a butt cheek.
But holy shit.
I know I’ve never given it up and haven’t seen any first-hand, but I’m no prude. I know what the male body looks like and how it works. And Cam’s seems to be working perfectly. His manhood is straining against his Calvin Klein’s like it wants to jump out at me, greet me, and get to know me.
“This is what you do to me,” I hear him say in a guttural voice and my eyes shoot to his since I’ve been caught staring. He’s stripped down to almost nothing in my bedroom. He moves to me again but before I can escape, he has his hands on my waist and turns me toward the bed. “It doesn’t matter if you’re being a wiseass, throwin’ your sass, or turn sweet the instant I get my hands on you. Just knowing you’re probably wet for me right now and the promise of you makes my cock harder than anyone’s ever made me. You’ve gotta know you do that to me and I like it. I like it all a helluva lot.”