by Karr, Kim
“Cam, I can’t, I can’t, no more,” I cry out as he brings me to orgasm again.
Looking up at me, he wipes his mouth with a grin.
“Cam,” I breathe, “it’s my turn. I want to kiss you…down there.”
His grin is wicked and he flops on his back, his cock sticking straight up in the air.
The sight of him like this flames my need. “I’m going to eat you all up, and after you come all over your belly, I want to slide on top of you and roll around in your desire.”
And that’s exactly what I do.
An hour after waking, we are both beyond spent and sated.
Looking down at myself, slick and tender and swollen, I inhale sharply. “I think I’m going to ache for days.”
His voice gentler than it has been, his hand cups my sex, gently caressing it. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
I turn to look over at him. “I’m sure you will.”
As we pant and lie there trying to recover, I cuddle up to him, kiss his lips, and feel his skin, hot and hard, against mine. We share a connection that I hope never breaks. No matter what happens.
He’s quiet for a moment, then softly, tenderly, says, “Everything is going to be okay, Makayla.”
There’s an ache in my chest that I want to rip out of me, but it’s so deep, I could tear my heart out and it would still be there.
It’s guilt.
What if… I am pregnant?
What if…
The what ifs are back.
I rest my head on his chest and revel in his scent.
A knock on my door has me jumping up.
I must have fallen asleep.
I look at the time—eight in the morning.
“Makayla,” Maggie calls.
I look down at Cam, who is just waking again as well.
“Come in,” I tell her, pulling the sheet and comforter up and over us.
The door opens and she’s standing there with Noah, her new boyfriend, right behind her.
“What’s going on, Mags?” I ask.
In her striped tank top and Christmas tree shorts, she rushes to the bed with her phone in her hand. “You have to see this.”
I blink a few times and reach for my glasses on my nightstand. “By any chance can you show me later?”
Shoving her phone in my face, she sits beside me. “No. This cannot wait.”
Cam lies there and watches us, slightly amused.
I put my glasses on and take her phone. On it is a picture of Sasha Gomez on the red carpet in a sleek black dress, and the necklace and bracelet she is wearing are my designs. They are circled, and my name is printed in the middle of it. I look at her. “Oh, my God, those are mine.”
Happy as pie, she shrieks, “You’re famous! You’re famous!”
Cam sits up. “Let me see that.”
I hand him the phone. He gives a low whistle.
“Noah.” Maggie snaps her fingers.
In a pair of heart-covered boxers, he strides over to Maggie with her laptop in his hand and gives it to her. She takes it. Hits a few keys and shoves it toward me.
With one hand holding the sheet up, I take it with the other. It’s the website order form that I created when I first arrived in Laguna, and there are over ten thousand orders in the “to be processed” box.
No way.
No way.
No f…ing way.
I think I might faint.
Wait! Is that a symptom of pregnancy? If so, forget I thought that.
“And,” Maggie says, hitting a few more keys, “these are messages from people. I hope you don’t mind, but I read a few. They’re from people inquiring about your next line. Can you believe it? Your next line! How cool is that?”
Cam hands Maggie her phone and puts his head on my shoulder. “Holy fuck, that’s a lot of emails.”
Just then my cell phone rings.
I freeze as Cam reaches for it.
I look at Maggie and give her back the laptop. “I need to take this. Let me get dressed and I’ll come downstairs.”
She pops up. “Hurry up. I don’t have to be to work until ten and I want to read the emails with you. I’m so excited for you. You’re going to be the next Kendra Scott; I just know it.”
Wow. Just wow.
This is surreal.
My cell is still ringing as Cam hands it to me. “Thanks, Mags,” I tell her and then answer the phone. “Hello.”
My heart is beating out of my chest.
This phone call might change my entire life.
“Hi, Miss Alexander?”
I put my phone on speaker. “Yes, this is she.”
“This is Dr. Solomon’s office. We have your test results.”
“Yes, what are they?” I suck in a breath.
I can see Cam clenching the sheets.
“The blood work came back negative. You’re not pregnant.”
“But I’m almost ten days late, and I’m never late.”
“The doctor understands that and attributes it to possible stress.”
My job has been stressful in that, to be honest, I really don’t like it.
“Thank you,” I tell her and we hang up.
Cam looks incredibly relieved, and so I am. Someday I want to have a baby. Just not right now.
“False alarm.” I smile at him. “Looks like TLC will have to wait for their new Jon & Kate Plus 8.”
Cam doesn’t find my humor very funny.
Not at all.
24
The Chamber of Commerce Is Closed
Cam
I never thought I’d be more than happy to say my girl is on the rag, but my girl is on the rag.
Finally, Makayla got her period yesterday.
Twelve days late.
Because of our scare, she and I have decided to go back to using condoms for a while and I promised to find the best choices for her.
Thinking she might be pregnant was a stressful time, but it kicked me into gear. Time to get back on track. Get my head in the game, and all that shit.
That is, if I can.
I’m worried about the hows, wheres, and whats to do. I’m worried about making a wrong decision. I’m worried about blowing my trust fund and having nothing.
Today is my day off, but instead of working on my own plan, I spent the first part of the morning doing what I always do on my days off—talking to some of the guys who own local businesses and helping them assess their issues.
When I get back home, I start to get this itch, like it’s my time.
Kicking into gear, I grab my laptop and start to do some research, punch some numbers, and try to figure out if what I have in mind is the right move.
I want to buy my first company, but I’m not sure the one I’m looking at is the right choice. I make a quick call and plan to visit the company tomorrow. I think I’ll see if Brooklyn wants to tag along, because he knows the area well.
Pushing away from the table, I look around my kitchen and rub my hands on my shorts. All of a sudden I’m feeling a lot of pressure for no fucking reason at all. I think I need a break, so I decide to take a walk on the beach.
Trekking through the sand, I find myself breathing in and exhaling the salt air. Being inside for all those hours has worn on me. Looking out into the clear blue of the water, I feel a little better now. Out of nowhere I have an urge to hit the waves, so after I change into my wet suit, I grab my board.
There’s a weightlessness that exists as I move quickly—up and down, hovering over the water. I gain speed and it’s thrilling, exhilarating, liberating even. When I break through its ledge, I position myself on the peak. It’s large and hollow and I have to move forcefully to stop from getting caught in the lip, but I do it and just like that, I’m riding the best fucking wave.
The sun rises higher off in the horizon and there’s a haze hanging in the air as I enfold myself inside the wave’s whorl. I look ahead and can’t help thinking that for the first time in the past y
ear, I’m focused, I have no doubts, and I know what I want to do.
It hasn’t been easy. It’s been a long road. Grief definitely took hold of me. Blinking my sad thoughts away, I look up as the swell emerges from more than fifty-foot depths and I watch as the silver-tinted waves of the Pacific roll in at a lightning-fast rate. Then I ride them out like a master. Well, not really, maybe more like an apprentice. Especially when I take a fall and have to swim to the surface.
Up on my board again, I give it another try. I take a full breath, all the way from my stomach to my chest, tilt my head back to open my lungs, and take in more air until the water cascades all around me and once again I’m completely submerged. Time stands still while I swim through the blur of the ocean and toward the light. I reach the surface and blinking, I see more than the clear day. I can see a future.
Chest to board, I paddle in and watch the shore come alive in the early afternoon hours. As I scan the beach, my eye catches a familiar sight off in the distance. I strain to make sure it’s her. Cupping through the ocean faster, I pick up speed and hit shallow water. I can’t help grinning at the sight of her.
Last night I was pissed as hell at her for arguing with me about what she should do about her jewelry business. She was nervous; she couldn’t calm down. If I suggested proceeding, she thought I meant that she stop. If I said yes, she heard no. I get that it was her nerves. In my current state of mind, though, I found it to be so damn frustrating.
But seeing her now, all the frustration just slides away because the sexy, sassy, and funny-as-hell girl is waiting for me. Waving a hand in the air, I shake the water from my hair and tuck my board under my arm.
“What are you doing here?” I yell as I emerge from the water.
“We have a lunch date, remember?” she responds, shading her eyes with her hand.
“Right.” I smile with a laugh.
She narrows her eyes. “Did you forget?”
“No. I just lost track of time.”
That face she makes tells me she’s not sure I’m telling the truth.
I am.
And I’m not.
I didn’t quite forget.
Or I didn’t mean to.
I got caught up in my business ideas.
That’s all.
Letting my guilt go, I allow my gaze to sweep the length of her and once my body stops humming in desire, I curl my fingers over my mouth to stifle my laughter at that mad face she’s making. “Hey, you look great,” I tell her.
She’s wearing a flowered green dress with gold straps, earrings, and one of her necklaces. She looks fucking beautiful, like Miss America. She’s also wearing sparkly sandals. It’s as if she could light up the whole beach, just like seeing her is lighting me up.
As I close the distance, I feel that same feeling I do every time she’s around. It’s in the way she looks at me. Angry or not, her alluring features are all I can see—the long strands of her hair blowing in the wind, her perky tits popping out from her form-fitting top, the slight curve of her hips, and fuck me, the smile she gives me without knowing she’s smiling. Then again, if she knew she was smiling, I doubt I’d be getting one. You see, I was an ass last night. I have some making up to do.
Kicking the sand up beneath my feet, I allow my gaze to focus on hers and try to tame the thudding of my pulse. It isn’t easy.
When a cool breeze presents itself on the shoreline, I stop on my heels and dig my board into the sand. Then I unzip my wet suit and move a little closer. “Want to go for a swim?”
She frowns at me. “I have to get back to work, Cam. I can’t go swimming now.”
I know she’s not trying to make me feel guilty that I have a flexible schedule and she doesn’t, but I do. I run my hand through my hair. “Let me get changed and we can go anywhere you want.”
With a step toward me, she smiles what I know is meant to be a real smile, and then she kisses me on the lips. “You stay out here and have fun. I’ll grab something quick on the way back to work.”
“You sure?”
She nods. “Yes. How about dinner instead?”
And then just like that, wet or not, I grab her face. Our mouths meet, our tongues collide, and we breathe each other in. We kiss with a hunger that I’m almost certain can never be satisfied. Time slips away as our hands move freely, roaming over each other in ways they shouldn’t in a public place.
Then just like that, she breaks our connection. My mind is whirling with how much I want her, right here, right now. The beach is fairly secluded, even if it’s not private. Yet I know better than to risk it.
“Come inside with me,” I whisper.
She steps back and straightens her dress, now a little wet. “I can’t, Cam. I have to get back to work. How about tonight?”
With a sigh, I answer, “I can’t. I told Oscar I’d meet him for dinner and look over his expansion plans.”
“Oscar Trivo from Trivo Furniture in the Village?”
I nod.
“What are you, Laguna’s unknown Chamber of Commerce?”
I rest my forehead against hers and grab her fingers, lacing our hands together. “He asked for my help,” I say, and kiss her once more. She’s not wrong. I do spend a lot of time helping others. Nothing wrong with that, but it is time to work on me.
“Lunch tomorrow then?” she asks.
With a lick around her lips, I find her ear. “Yes. Lunch tomorrow. And I can always come over tonight when I get home, you know.”
She kisses me back. “I’d love that, but I have to get up early, so I really should go to bed early.”
After I press my lips to hers one last time, I pull back. “Lunch tomorrow it is.”
Walking backwards, she waves at me. “See you then.”
I wave back and get this odd feeling, like there is something wrong between us that I can’t quite get a grip on.
I don’t know if it’s big or small.
It started with the baby scare, but it didn’t end when we found out there was no baby.
All I do know is that I need to find out what it is before it’s too late.
25
Put Me First
Makayla
The list is complete.
I’ve checked all ten things off and I really do feel like a newer version of myself. Although thinking about it, about my state of mind after I found Sebastian with that hooker, I have to wonder if I really needed the list to reinvent myself or just some time on my own.
There were so many things wrong with Sebastian and me that I had become focused on those wrong things. I just couldn’t see that we weren’t perfect for each other because I wanted perfect so much. I wanted a family. To belong to someone. To be loved. And he had what I wanted. Offered it to me. Sebastian was really close with his family, and I loved that about him. I loved them. They loved me too. But he always put them before me. He put almost everything before me. Normally, it wasn’t a problem, but sometimes it was.
His constantly being late also bothered me. As did the fact that he would forget to do about half of the things he said he would. Nothing big. Just little things, like he’d say he’d pick up ice cream for after dinner and show up at my place without it. Tell me he’d bring me coffee in the morning and never show up. When we’d talk later, he’d tell me he got called into work. Maybe it was true, maybe not. I could never tell.
The sun is hot in the bluest of skies today. The air is warm. And palm trees are swaying back and forth. I really do love it here.
As soon as I turn the corner, I spot Cam’s mop of dark brown hair. He’s sitting at an outdoor table at the café around the block from my work, just like he told me he would be doing today at noon when we firmed up our lunch plans, but he’s alone, he’s with Brooklyn.
“I don’t know, man, but I’d say that’s an easy one,” Brooklyn says to Cam, removing his dark sunglasses. His light blue eyes almost disappear as he squints against the sun.
“You’re a lot of fucking help,” Cam says i
n return.
“What’s easy?” I ask as I approach Cam from behind.
His head snaps around. He looks a little guilty about something. Ever since the pregnancy scare I have felt that something’s going on. My mind might be reading too much into everything, but I can’t stop myself. He seems to be pulling away from me. And after his forgetting lunch yesterday, all I can think about is how everything started to fall apart with Sebastian just in this way. Small things that at the time meant nothing, but they should have been seen as signs.
“Hey, there you are.” Cam stands up.
I glance over at Brooklyn to see if he’ll answer, but obviously he isn’t going to either.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say.
“You’re not late,” Cam says, lowering his head.
I turn my cheek so his kiss lands on it. I have no idea why I do that.
His eyes sweep me in my short skirt and jacket and I know he has sex on his mind. He always does. Not that I don’t, but I’m also starting to feel that maybe we’re overly focused on it. That we need more balance. He didn’t come over last night, but he did call me, and so we had sex—phone sex, but sex nonetheless.
“What? Does my breath smell?” he jokes, and pulls my chair out.
Feeling guilty for transferring my old feelings from Sebastian onto him, I resolve to stop it. So when he leans down to place my napkin on my lap, I whisper, “You do smell—good enough to eat.”
I’m full of mixed signals and even I know it. If it’s driving me crazy, it must be driving him crazy. I should tell him—tell him how I feel so he knows. And then we can approach whatever is going on together.
I will tell him.
Soon.
“Hey Brooklyn, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Yeah, Cam and I have this thing to take care of this afternoon—hope you don’t mind.”
It could be my imagination, but I swear Cam just kicked him under the table.
“No, not at all,” I say.
Thing.
What thing?
Cam squeezes my hand and leans over to kiss me again.