Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series) (6 page)

Still, that word hadn’t been mentioned by either of us.

“I don’t know how I feel
”

“I do,” he interrupted. “It’s all over your face, I can see it in your movements—and when you look at him. What did he do, Charlie? What got you so riled that you came over here a whole hour early?”

This wasn’t the first time Dallas and I had discussed Cameron. It hadn’t been weird before, but that word he used only seconds ago and continued making reference to could have changed that. Other
than Professor Freeman, Dallas was the first friend I’d had since
Emma.
So far, I’d been able to confide everything to him. I didn’t want
anything to affect that—especially not my love for another man.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” I said. “I’m fine. I…”

“Yes, we do. If something’s bothering you, I want to hear it.” He looked at the bottle in his hand. “I don’t care if it’s about him or someone else. Please don’t shut me out. Not again.”

Before having feelings for Cameron, I would have pushed
myself off this couch, kneeled in front of Dallas, tugged his belt loose, and enveloped him with my mouth before he would have had a chance
to elaborate. I didn’t need words; I used sex instead. But I was
learning not to be that person anymore. I had to let my friend in. A part of me even really wanted to let it happen.

So I told him about Cameron’s painting and the history he had
with Lora, and the way I’d felt when I viewed her naked body
splayed across his canvas. His expression stayed completely aloof while I
spoke, and his sharp features remained still. When I finished, I
expected him to voice his opinion. He didn’t. He continued to watch me as I uncomfortably shifted in my chair, my feet tapping his carpet and tugging at each of my fingers unsure if I had said too much.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Do you want me to?”

I nodded. “Please.”

“I know I’ve only met him a few times and I don’t really know him, but I haven’t seen the love only on your face; I’ve seen it on his, too. There’s no doubt that Lora is a challenge. But so am I, Charlie. You’re forgetting that.”

I hadn’t forgotten. Not at all. I just hadn’t mentioned it.

“If it wasn’t her in that painting,” he continued, “it would have been someone else you’d be jealous of. At least you know what you get with her, and he’s been completely honest with you. You’ve just got to remember that it’s you he wants now, not her.”

The tension in me broke. “You’re right.”

He smiled. “I know.”

I didn’t know about the love part, but I believed everything else he said. And now that the conversation was over, it just proved to
me how much my friendship with Dallas was strengthening. This
was
how it was supposed to be between us. Our sex had been a
complicated stage that I didn’t regret, but this was the phase that felt most right.

“Thank you.” I said it quietly, but my tone expressed my
sincerity. And he knew me well enough to know I was thanking him for a lot more than just his advice.

His smile spread from his eyes to his mouth, and I knew he
understood. He lifted his bottle. “Another one?”

I looked down at my hands, surprised that the glass was
completely empty. I didn’t even remember taking a sip of it. “How
about we go out? We can grab some food and head downtown, my
treat?”

“You’re taking
me
out?”

I laughed at that. The only time we used to go out was when I was too sore to fuck—and that hadn’t been very often. Dallas had a
way with my body—a knowledge, a talent, a desire that was as
strong as mine—and spending time in public had just delayed what I really wanted. When I thought about it more, it was pretty strange that we were in a completely different place together now.

A better place.

“Can I?”

“You know I never turn down an offer for food” He stood from the couch, grabbed his jacket from the hall closet and put it on.

As I followed him, I glanced around the apartment. The last time I had been here, most of his stuff had still been in boxes. Now that it
was finally all unpacked and set up, there was something
missing... somewhere around the wall above his couch. Where many of his other nooks were filled with framed jerseys, photographs, even pieces of art that he had bought, that wall was nothing but a blank space. I’d never created anything for him before; he’d asked me to several times, but I’d always put it off. It never felt like the right thing to do for him. But it did now.

It’s time
, I thought.

“You ready?” he asked.

I turned toward him, meeting his happy gaze of hazel and ash. As I took him all in, comparing the place we had been in to the space we were headed, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m ready.”

CAMERON WASN’T HOME WHEN I RETURNED
to the
apartment, so I scrubbed all the makeup off my face, brushed my teeth and got into bed. As the sheets and black satin comforter fell over my naked
body, a chill spread through me. Cameron always kept the
temperature on the cooler side, which made for too many icy layers. I got out of bed and put on a pair of his boxers and one of his T-shirts. I almost
never wore clothes when I slept, but even the beer wasn’t keeping
me warm tonight. With the TV on and a pile of down pillows fluffed
under my head, I sank into the mattress and flipped through the channels.

I wasn’t much of a TV person. That was due in part to Lilly; the television in our living room had usually been broken, and she’d never had enough money to get it repaired. In my later years, after
the hours I worked and spent at school, I welcomed my bed and
complete silence…and my fingers. No TV necessary. But Cameron enjoyed watching it before he went to sleep; there was a large one hanging on the opposite wall from his wooden, platform king-size.

With its light illuminating most of the open space, my eyes moved to the right side of the room. Hanging directly above the loveseat and ottoman was one of my paintings,
Naked
. I had created it while I was working at the mansion and it took place on top of the bed that was in my wing. My face was pressed into the mattress; my hair splayed around my cheeks so no one knew it was me. But Cameron knew. He had purchased the piece at my first exhibit; the two side-by-side freckles that were on my shoulder where my bra strap usually rested had told him it was me. Once the inspiration for the work had been revealed and where it had originated from, I figured he would want to take it down. I did; it reminded me too much of how deep my darkness ran. But for Cameron, it represented the moment that his feelings for me had really started to grow. So he left it up as a showcase. I offered to change the piece, to create a
replica that took place on a different bed under different
circumstances. But he didn’t think it was necessary.

Naked
was the only thing in this room that was mine, and even that had been purchased without my knowledge and hung without
my consent. When I had moved here from my apartment, I hadn’t
brought anything with me but my clothes. The few pieces of
furniture that I owned, I donated. I’d bought them with the mansion’s money, and it just felt wrong to keep any of them. I hadn’t really wanted any of my clothes either; I’d wanted a fresh beginning, and I was slowly achieving that by replacing my wardrobe with the money I made from the sale of my art.

Despite the entire place having a masculine, industrial feel
throughout, with its cool tones and straight lines, I felt comfortable here. The only reason I could think of was that I had found a home in Cameron—not in his apartment or in his studio, but in
him
. And he took care of me; he never allowed me to pay for anything, or to chip in with the mortgage here or at the studio. Not even the utilities. And he never let me pick up the bill whenever we went out. I offered every time, and he always rejected it.

I had never been spoiled before, had never been taken care of
other than the moments I spent inside the mansion, and I had
definitely never lived in a place as luxurious as this. As much as I wanted my independence in order to prove to myself I would never be Lilly, Cameron made it easy to accept what he offered. But it never felt like any of the things in here were mine, regardless of how many times he referred to them as
ours
. All of it was his. And that wasn’t going to change until I added touches of me throughout the apartment, or until we found a new place
one we chose together. We weren’t there yet. But once we were, the balance of responsibility would have to change.

My eyes fell from
Naked
to the clock on the nightstand. It was just after two a.m. The next time I saw the bright red numbers, it was
well past three. I didn’t remember my lids getting heavy or the
moment the beer had finally forced them shut, but they popped open when I felt lips softly kissing my cheek. The TV was no longer on; Cameron
had cracked the shades just a bit so the light from the adjacent
buildings seeped through the slats and reflected off the walls, glancing across the bedding and striping his face. He was sitting at my side, his hand under the comforter and sheet, rubbing slow circles over my navel.

“Clothes?” he asked.

In that small amount of light, I searched his face, hoping he wasn’t upset by how I had acted earlier. My departure wasn’t the way I normally left our apartment. “I was freezing.”

His fingers reached under the thin T-shirt and glided up to my chest, stopping at the small space between my breasts, then moving
back to my stomach. “All I could think about the whole night was
doing this.” I felt a sharp burst of pleasure come from my nipple as he wrapped his fingers around it, tugging as it hardened into a
small bud.

My mind was on his hand, but it was also on the painting he’d
created for Lora and the way it had made me feel. Then I
remembered
my conversation with Dallas. I didn’t want to think about Lora
anymore. I wanted to forget that any of it had even happened. But I wanted some assurance that it was my body he craved, not hers.

“You only thought about my nipple?” I asked.

His eyes pierced mine while his hand dropped down my body,
landing on the boxers that I wore. He didn’t take the time to dip
under the elastic waist. He rubbed through the cotton, directly on the spot that throbbed. “This, too. Lots of this.”

I was finally starting to push Lora out of my head, but I still wondered: what they had done tonight, where they had gone, what had kept him out so late? He deserved his space and his freedom, and I truly believed I trusted him. But I couldn’t kill my curiosity, and I didn’t want it to turn into suspicion. And because I didn’t want
him to think I was questioning or doubting him, I kept those
thoughts to myself.

With his hand still between my legs, he leaned down and
brushed his lips over my mouth. “I can taste beer through your toothpaste.”

I could taste red wine through his.

“I had drinks with Dallas tonight.”

“At his place?”

“We started there, then we went to a bar.”

His fingers stopped circling and his abrupt exhale spread over my face. His body tensed, and as his lips hovered over mine his eyes
closed. “Did you know you’d be going over there when you were
complaining about me going to Lora’s?”

Complaining? I wasn’t sure if that was exactly what I had done…not out loud, at least. But plenty of that had occurred inside my head. He read me better than I realized.

“Yes,” I answered. “I knew.”

“Do you think that’s fair, Charlie?”