Ruining Mr. Perfect (The McCauley Brothers) (16 page)

The clock had just turned to seven-thirty. Dear God, she’d slept the night away.

“Shit.” She tried to scramble out of bed, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Vanessa, relax. If you left early yesterday, chances are they think you went home sick. You never leave early.”

“True.”

“So take the morning off. Be with me.”

She stared at him, looking into his eyes and feeling as if she saw so much more than his features. “Play hookey?”

He gave a fake cough. “No, take care of me. I’m sick.”

“Bull.”

He pulled her hand over his chest. “My heart hurt at the thought of losing you.”

She flushed. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “I don’t want us to be over.”

She wanted to ask, “Ever?” but didn’t want to hear his answer, scared he might mean forever. Dating was one thing. Permanence? Marriage? Kids? She could just see herself turning into a carbon copy of her mother and froze.

“Come on, Vanessa. Soothe me.” He ran a hand over her back. “I’m male and I’m needy. But I’m not stupid. You should nurture me, in hopes that someday my good sense will pass on to future generations and spawn a gender of males who aren’t complete fuckheads twenty-four-seven.”

Her lips twitched at his fake earnestness. “Well, when you put it that way…” She squealed with laughter when he tickled her. Then his caresses moved lower, and her laughs became moans. And sighs, and pleas for more.

***

By noon, Cam sat dressed in his wrinkled suit at her kitchen table while she prepared them an organic tofu lunch.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I told you so.”

According to Vanessa, Josh had spread the word she was feeling sick yesterday, so when Peterman took her call earlier, he’d ordered her to stay home until tomorrow. Panicked at the thought of losing her during tax season, the man wanted to take no chances.

She frowned at him over her shoulder. “So you were right. Do you have to keep rubbing that in my face?”

“When’s the last time you took a sick day?” The look she gave him said volumes. “And there’s your answer. Slow down, eager beaver. You’ll make partner. Just don’t burn yourself out in the process.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Shut up.” He grinned at her. “Now admit something else. You like missionary. Sometimes being on the bottom is damn good.”

“He who feels the need to brag hath something to prove.” At his raised brow, she continued with a waspish, “Yeah, yeah. You’re a stud in bed too. Happy now?”

She brought two plates to the table, and they ate in companionable silence.

“Are you going to ask me or what?” Cameron said as he finished his sandwich. “You’re a wizard with tofu, you know that?”

“I know. Ask what?”

“I saw that note from your parents. The one you spent a good half an hour frowning over this morning.”

She sighed. “My parents just received two major grants to continue their research at the university. I’m supposed to come home to celebrate the accomplishment. Put in the dutiful appearance as the proud and moderately successful progeny to make them look good.”

“And?”

“And I need a date.” She batted her lashes. “Pretty please, Cam? Won’t you come with me?” she begged in a breathy voice.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.” He was more than curious to meet her stick-in-the-mud parents. The timing of the invitation and Vanessa’s attempt to break up with him felt like too much coincidence. It would do him well to see the people who’d so influenced their daughter. “Is this going to stress you out? Me going along?”

“Oh no. Just the opposite. You might give me the buffer I need to stay somewhat human during my trip.” She groaned. “I tried to tell you what I’m really like, but maybe if you meet my parents, you’ll understand. If you just want to be fuck-buddies after that, I’m game.”

He sighed, long and loud. “I thought we’d discussed this. I prefer the term fuck-
friends
. Not fuck-buddies. That’s so…crass.”

She smirked. “You’re not crass, are you, Mr. Walk of Shame?” She snickered. “You’re lucky your brothers aren’t here to make fun of you.”

“Nope. Just my leering girlfriend. My fuck-
friend
.”

They continued to tease each other until he left to make a quick stop home. Except after darting upstairs to hurry and change for his appointment, he found his father and Mike arguing inside.

“Damn it, Dad. Enough is enough. Either shit or get off the pot.”

“Nice way to talk about your mother.” His father snorted.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? This isn’t your fight.”

“Yeah? Well someone has to stick up for Mom. You’re too busy playing footsie with the coffee chick.”

“Whoa.” Cam walked between his brother and father, shocked to see the pair truly angry. “What the hell’s this about?”

Mike pointed at their father. “
James
has been harassing Mom.”

“Harassing?” Cam frowned at his father. “Dad?”

“It’s not like that.” James’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with anger. “Your mother and I need to talk, but she’s not letting me anywhere near her. Do you know she changed the locks at home?”

Cam bit back a smile.
Go, Mom.
Whatever had happened between the pair, Cam was all for it. Once disinterested in fixing things with their mother, his dad now seemed to be frothing at the mouth to see her again. “Dad, I thought it was over. Why not just move on? Let her go.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Mike asked him, breathing fire. “We want them back together. We just don’t want him making her cry every five seconds.” Mike glared at James again. “Meet with a moderator, like she asked. A therapist can settle your differences down at the—”

“I’m not seeing a fucking shrink to talk to your mother.”

“Yeah, because all that other great communicating you guys do has helped you so much ’til now,” Cam said drily.

Next to him, Mike nodded.

“Jesus. You two are a real pair, you know? Why the hell am I suddenly the bad guy?”

“Maybe because you’re dating the coffee chick?” Cam offered.

“Your mother is seeing some guy with no neck! A greasy mechanic who had his hands all over her,” his father yelled.

“Greasy mechanic?” Cam frowned. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical to call a brother in trade by demeaning names?”

His father’s scowl turned ugly, and Cam took a step back.

“Dad.” Mike stepped between them. “If you’re serious about making things right with Mom, why not meet her halfway? She loses the mechanic, you lose the coffee lady, and you two focus on each other.”

“For the last fucking time, there is no coffee lady! We flirted a few times. I got a free muffin or two. End of fucking story. Your mother’s the one going out on
dates
.”

“Dates?” Cam frowned. “Has there been more than one?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean Liam Webster won’t—”

“Webster? Liam
Webster
?” Mike frowned.

“What? You know the guy?” Cam asked.

“Dad said he’s a mechanic. Del’s a mechanic. Her last name is Webster.”

Cam had a bad feeling. “I never did get the name of the guy, or how exactly he and Mom met.”

Mike clenched and unclenched his fists. “Yeah? Well, I think it’s time I asked Mom how she met her new boyfriend.”

“See? Now you’re thinking like a McCauley.” His father slapped Mike on the back.

Mike turned on him. “
You
stay away from her. I’ll find out what’s up. Just… Cam, talk to him. Because acting like he’s forgotten how to think will push her away even more.”

Mike left and slammed the door behind him. Cam cringed. Then he looked at his dad and saw not a failure as a husband, but a man torn by pain and past mistakes. A future he might one day have if he forgot what was important and focused too much on the day-to-day.

With a sigh, he moved to the refrigerator and pulled out one of his father’s generic beers. He handed it to his dad and nodded at the couch. Then he called Hope. “Tell Mrs. Foxxe I’ll be there by two. I promise. And that we’re not charging her for the consult.”

“Good plan, because she was fine changing her schedule once. Twice? Now you’re pushing it.”

“Thanks for telling me something I already know.” Cam disconnected and turned to his father, who sat holding his beer, staring out the window. “Okay, Dad. You want Mom back? This is how you need to play it…”

Vanessa felt queasy. She hated flying, almost more than she hated crying. But it was her own fault. She never should have tried that new goat cheese the night before her cross-country flight.

After a third trip to the lavatory, which thankfully had only produced dry heaves, she took the Dramamine tablets Cameron handed her.

“If you say ‘I told you so,’ I will forcibly stick my fingers down my throat and vomit all over you,” she told him.

In the aisle next to them, an older man looked up at her in alarm.

Cameron chuckled and patted the seat. “Yes, dear.”

She groaned, sat, and swallowed the pills. “I hate medication of any kind.”

“Me too, but I took the pills. Notice I’m not having any issues.”

“Oh, shut up. Are we there yet?”

“Just another three hours and we’ll change over in Philadelphia.” Cameron sounded way too cheerful. “I haven’t been north of Philly before. Not in Pennsylvania, at least, so this will be fun.”

“If you say so.” She returned to her story. She managed to hold down the airplane peanuts and hot tea and dozed for a bit, enjoying that she could lean on Cameron’s solid shoulder.

She also appreciated that he’d upgraded their seats from economy to business class. He’d been so cute when he scoffed at the notion of sitting in the “sardine seats.”

Loretta and Scott Campbell hadn’t met them at the tiny airport, but they had arranged for a taxi. Cameron and she rode for a while in silence. He had his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled beside him, confident things had mostly returned to normal between them. She didn’t know if this trip would push him away, or if he’d last a few months longer until he became angry over something else that wasn’t her fault. That, or he’d simply grow bored with her. Either way, she refused to stress about it. She was pragmatic enough to realize she could do nothing to postpone the inevitable. Why not enjoy this time with him while she had it?

She let him hold her hand and gripped it tighter.

“You okay?” he asked and kissed the top of her head.

Those affectionate gestures that were unnecessary yet so fulfilling always amazed her. “Fine. Gotta love the snow.”

The cabbie nodded and glanced in her rearview mirror. “Can you believe it? I know it’s still March and all, but damn, we just hit spring! And then a snowfall. I think that groundhog was full of crap.”

Cameron snorted. “Never trust a rodent. And especially not one named Phil.”

They passed the rest of the short ride in a comfortable banter, and before she knew it, they’d arrived at her parents’ home.

“Nice digs.” Cameron eyed the palatial home on four acres of land. Her parents had done phenomenally well investing their earned income, as well as the money they’d inherited when Vanessa’s grandfather, on her father’s side, had died.

The four-thousand-square-foot home ensured her parents had enough room to spread out without feeling cramped and too close. Because God forbid they had to interact with each other more than twice a day—once at breakfast, and again at dinner. She doubted their routines had changed all that much.

After letting herself into the house with her spare key, Vanessa took Cameron with her into the kitchen, where her mother had informed her she’d find further instructions.

“This place is massive,” he said as he studied their surroundings. Hardwood floors, neutral shades of tan and beige on the walls, accented with calming blues and greens around the living room, meshed well with the understated elegance of the antique-white kitchen, stainless-steel appliances, and granite countertops.

“My parents often have social functions here, catered, of course. So the house needed to reflect their wealth without being overly grandiose.”

He gave her an odd look, and she realized she’d automatically reverted to the voice she used when back with her parents. Instructional, informative, and bland.

She infused herself with a sprinkle of enthusiasm. “They moved into this place right before I graduated from college—the same college they work in, mind you. The same one I had to pay my own way through because apparently an education means more if you pay for it. I’m almost done with my loans, thank God.”

“Really?”

For what Vanessa made at her job, she could have afforded to live in a much bigger house than the one she shared with her roommates. But her student loan, in addition to the many varied investments she continued to make, took the brunt of her income. That and she liked living with Maddie and Abby, though she refused to admit it to her cousin.

She cleared her throat. “Really. Anyway, I still have a room here, which is where we’ll be staying.”

“You still have a room? I got the impression you don’t visit often.”

“I don’t. They turned it into a guest room the day I graduated. But it’s got the best sunlight and the bed is quality.” She shrugged. After reading the note left for her on the counter, she handed it to Cameron and took a look in the refrigerator.

“Well. This is…”

“Perfunctory?” Her mother had welcomed her home, told her about different food choices, their meal for the evening—to dress for it—and the schedule, in detail, for the following day. Vanessa took out some carrot sticks and helped herself. “Want some?”

“Sure.” He chewed and studied the house. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure people live here? It’s so clean and, well, the place looks like a show house.”

“I know.” She snorted. “It was like that when I lived here too. I used to have to hide my stuff in my closet, because even my room had to be organized.” More like sterile. Was it any wonder she’d left State College as soon as she’d been able? “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

She hadn’t been home in three years, and then only for the obligatory holiday visit, so that the family could continue their pretense of normality. After taking him through the open downstairs and into the spotless pantry and laundry room, she took him upstairs. “On that side my parents share a bedroom and have two separate studies.” They turned in the hallway that bridged the sections of the upper floor. “You can see downstairs from here. Nice, hmm?”

“Beautiful. They certainly keep the place nice.”

“Maids and gardeners. Makes you wonder why my parents have so much space if they never do anything with it.” She shrugged. She’d been wondering about that for years. “My room—excuse me, the
guest
room
—is this way.” She walked to the large room in which sunlight patterned over the carpeted floor and pale blue walls.

“Pretty. Very soft.”

“Unlike me?” She dragged her bag with her and pushed it to the side. “You can take that armoire and I’ll use the dresser over there. Bathroom is through that door.”

He left his bag on the floor by hers and moved into the bathroom. “Yep,” he called from inside. “Like the rest of the house. Spotless.”

“Uh-huh.” She took off her shoes and sank back onto the bed, feeling exhausted. Between the flight and the tension creeping over her from being back home, she wanted nothing more than to take a nap, so she closed her eyes and tried to relax.

She heard the faucet go on and off. Then Cameron returned. “So when do you expect them back?”

“You read the note. Not before seven.” She opened her eyes.

He glanced at his watch, one of the few men she knew who still wore one, and said, “We have three hours to kill. What should we do?”

Recognizing that tone, she studied him. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

He grinned and removed his jacket, shoes, and sweater. “I was thinking… You ever have sex in the ‘guest room’?”

Her heart raced and her entire body lit up at the thought. “No.”

“Well, I think you’re due, don’t you?”

“Cameron.”

“No, honey. This is where you call me Cam, and then you get all breathless.” He removed the rest of his clothing, taking his time. And he was hard.

“Close the door.” Exhaustion had left her the moment he stripped down to his bare chest.

“Why?” He stalked her, then tugged her to the edge of the bed, her legs on either side of him. “This is a good height.”

She flushed when his gaze settled between her legs. He took off her clothes slowly, but the door remained open.

“Cam.”

“Ah, there it is. That turns me on, you know. When you say my name like that.”

“The…ah, the door.”

“Let’s leave it open. Just imagine your parents coming home to see us fucking on your bed.”

She gaped at him, not sure who the hell had taken over Cameron’s brain. He hadn’t given any indication he wanted to be watched. By her parents? The idea grossed her out, mostly. Except the notion of freaking them out, of playing the rebellious daughter, had more than its share of appeal.

“Now spread yourself for me,” he ordered in a husky groan. “Yeah, let me see that clit.”

“God.” She was wet, and it was all his fault. When he talked like that, lost his veneer of civility, she liked him even more. Because it wasn’t a front or a pose, but another part of Cam she brought out in him.

“I’m going to lick you up. You need it.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah. You need to be mussed a bit. You’re too pretty, too controlled. How about we see what it takes to get you to scream my name?”

“Yes.” She desired him like crazy, her arousal skyrocketing as he stared at her while he lowered his mouth to her core.

Then he kissed her, and she closed her eyes, lost in sensation.

His lips tugged, his tongue penetrated, and he rubbed her with abandon, his groans and grunts of pleasure stirring breathy cries she hadn’t realized she could make.

“Yeah, that’s it. More, baby.” He gripped her thighs hard while he sucked her, and she rose to meet his demands, on fire to have him.

Before she could come, he kissed his way to her breasts. His warm lips encouraged pinpricks of desire that caused her to writhe beneath him, especially when he closed his mouth around her left breast.

As he teased her, he slid his thick cock over her clit, rocking against her arousal and pushing her past reason.

“Please, Cam. In me. Come inside me. Now.”

She gripped his shoulders, but he wouldn’t be moved. Instead he tormented her other breast, gliding close but still leaving her empty. She knew he wanted her, could hear it in his harsh breaths, in the furious tugging at her nipple. He was rock-hard and hot, so close. But not close enough.

“Damn it, Cam.” She moaned when he left her breast and kissed her. He rocked over her, not quite penetrating but leaving the tip of himself at her entrance. With short jerks he mimicked taking her, and she lost her mind as he continued to plunge in and out of her mouth with his tongue.

“Fuck me.
Cam, now
,” she demanded, wishing she didn’t sound so damn weak.

“Yeah. Oh baby. I have to have you.” He kissed her again, but this time he angled himself differently and nudged her thighs wider. In one hard thrust, he shoved the whole of himself inside her.

She came like a rocket, crying out as he rode her orgasm into an impossibly long burst of pleasure.

He continued to hit the bundle of nerves inside her while his groin grazed her clit, and she couldn’t stop the rush of ecstasy from obliterating all else.

“Yes, Vanessa. Oh yeah. I’m coming. So hard. So fucking hard,” he groaned as he shoved one last time and shuddered. “Vanessa.
Yes.
” He thrust in and out a few times, milking himself in her tight sheath.

She felt completely blown away, as limp as a noodle. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead, and she felt dizzy.

“You totally destroyed me,” he murmured, making no move to withdraw. He leaned up, so as not to crush her with his weight. “Damn, Vanessa. I think this might just be hotter than Valentine’s Day. Doing it in your parents’ house. You’re such a bad girl.”

She smiled. “I’d say something sarcastic, but I can’t think at the moment. I don’t even think I can move.”

He kissed her cheeks, her mouth, her nose. “Why don’t you take a nap? You look beat, and I’ll just rest here with you. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the clock.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want your parents to meet me bare-assed naked.”

She muttered something back, but she couldn’t have said what it was. Instead, she closed her eyes and sighed into his embrace, still joined, still a part of him. Where she always wanted to be.

***

Cam had softened, but he didn’t withdraw. He pulled the blanket over them and stared down at Vanessa. He knew he could no longer even
try
to deny to himself how much she meant to him. He had to have her in his life. Permanently. She fit him in every way. Even her snit on the plane had entertained him, though he’d felt badly for her nerves.

Seeing the house in which she’d spent some of her youth, he better understood her anxiety about the visit. Though she’d played it off as typical frustration with her parents, he could see something more bothered her. She kept expecting him to end things after meeting her parents too. Her attitude after reading her mother’s note had been odd, but he comprehended more than she probably thought.

He kissed her cheek and rolled them to their sides, trying his best to stay inside her. She was so warm, so perfect around him. Their frames meshed, not too big or small for each other, but just right, especially when they’d sixty-nined it the other day.

He’d never had such satisfying sex with one person before or experienced this kind of chemistry. Not that he’d been an orgy guy or anything; he’d had his share of girlfriends. But it was so much more than that with Vanessa. He was enchanted with her personality and quick wit. So smart and savvy, so competent. He found her incredibly sexy and wanted to know as much as he could about her.

He couldn’t wait to meet her parents.

Downstairs, he’d seen one family picture—everyone wore their Sunday best and polite smiles. Sterile. A lot like the picture-perfect house. He liked to be neat, but even he would have a problem in a place this devoid of personality.

He rested with Vanessa for another hour, then removed himself to take a shower. After getting clean in the spotless glass shower stall, he shaved and splashed on some cologne, then dressed and moved to Vanessa again. In sleep, she looked beautiful. No lines marred her forehead or pinched her mouth. She seemed at ease, and though he hated to ruin her sleep, he knew she’d want to be prepared for her parents when they returned.