Tempting Cameron (11 page)

Wait, he was still in those days. Right?

Not even close.

“Back off ladies, the man’s with me,” came a sweet voice to his right, startling both women so that they moved away with sneers on their faces, their irritation clear.

He turned, saw Chloe standing there, all righteous indignation and full of fire. She glared at the two women until they slunk off and then she approached him, bracing her hands flat on the table so she could lean over it, stare him directly in the eyes.

Giving him a delectable view down her V-neck shirt. His gaze dropped, caught a glimpse of her bra, the red, lacy one that had given him heart palpitations that night on her back patio.

“Eyes up, mister. I’m taking you home.”

…

All it had taken was Jane hearing the tone of her voice and her friend had known something was wrong. She pestered and pestered until finally Chloe collapsed under pressure, mentioning he’d had an accident. She’d cringed when Jane started going off, upset and worried about her brother. The moment the words left her lips, Chloe knew it had been a mistake, telling Jane anything about Cameron. He’d probably never forgive her.

But maybe having his siblings know would help him. It wasn’t healthy, keeping all of that bottled inside. Cam needed to realize he had a family ready and willing to support him, through the good times and the bad. He didn’t need to keep running, didn’t need to keep avoiding everyone who cared about him.

Including her.

She’d broken through that barrier on the boat and held him while he’d cried. He never admitted it, she’d never asked him about it, but she’d felt the dampness on her neck. Knew that he’d shed a few tears over his pain, his supposedly messed-up life.

But she hadn’t expected Jane to run to her sister and brother and stage an intervention on Cameron’s behalf. He’d called it an ambush, Jane had told her. Right after he knocked Mac to the ground, then got into an argument with every single one of them before he ran out.

She couldn’t half blame him. Had been furious when she heard what they’d done and chewed Jane out for it, too. They’d handled it all wrong. Cam hated confrontation. Even she knew that.

Jane hadn’t called to get chewed out, though. She was looking for Cam. They were worried about him after he stormed out of their parents’ house. Was he with her? Jane asked.

Chloe had a hunch where he might be and it turned out she was right. There he sat at a table in the corner of The Tree, drunk as could be and actually getting hit on by two out of town tramps. He hadn’t deterred them, either. Was flashing them a dopey grin she wanted to kiss right off his face, which irritated her to no end.

“Let’s go.” She grabbed hold of Cam’s arm and yanked him into a standing position, saw that he wobbled on his feet, which was a bad sign. Half leading him, half dragging him, she walked him out of the bar. She told Sal to put Cam’s bill on her tab, even though she really didn’t have one.

Sal knew she was good for it.

“You keep a tab here?” Cam asked incredulously as she pushed through the double doors, the late afternoon sun blinding them both.

Him worse. “Damn, that’s bright.” He held his free hand up in front of his face, shielding his eyes.

“Come on. You need to sleep this off. Have a cup of coffee, something to sober you up.” She led him to her new car, a cute used Honda Civic Ali had convinced her to buy when she accompanied her to the car lot in Oakwood a few weeks ago. It was red, the same color as the bra she wore, and it made her feel racy.

Sexy.

Two words she would’ve never used to describe herself. Before Cam, that is.

“What about my truck?” He waved at where it was parked.

“It’ll be okay here for the night. Or I’ll have Mac come get it and drive it home for you,” she suggested.

The look on his face was positively feral. “Hell, no,” he growled, his eyes glinting with simmering rage.

She realized her mistake but didn’t say a word. Wouldn’t be smart to engage the angry drunk man, so she hit the keyless remote and opened the passenger side door, shoving him inside. He went willingly, slumping in his seat, then he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, his long legs sprawled in front of him. His shorts rode up a little, offering her a glimpse of the still red scar on his knee from the surgery he’d had on it.

Looking way too delicious for words, despite the scar. Despite his drunken state.

She had it so bad.

Chloe pulled out of the parking lot and started to head to Patrick’s family cabin, where Cam was staying, but he said, “Not that way. Take me to your place.” He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.”

She couldn’t resist his plea. So she turned left and headed toward her house. Remained silent as she drove, casting the occasional glance in Cam’s direction. His kissed-by-the-sun hair was mussed and wildly beautiful, much like the man himself. He could roll out of bed and look like a god.

Chloe sighed. Life was so unfair sometimes.

“Quit looking at me,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

She whipped her gaze back to the road. “How do you know I’m looking at you?” she asked warily.

“I can feel your eyes. No matter how sneaky you think you are, Chloe Dawson, I always know when you’re looking at me. Thinking about me.” His voice drifted off and she glanced at him again, noted the amused smile curling his sensuous lips. “Like right now.”

“Ha.” She returned her gaze to the road, flicked her blinker on and turned right. Drunk, pissed off, yet amusing Cameron was making her uneasy. Especially when he reached over and settled his hand on her bare knee. She wore her favorite denim skirt, never thinking how easily he could slip his hand beneath it and…touch her.

Okay, she lied. She’d put on the outfit earlier with the intention of giving Cam easy access. She was tired of denying herself. All summer they’d been driving each other crazy and she was ready. Damn the consequences. If last night was an indicator before they were so crazily interrupted, then today had the potential for her first time with Cam. As in, getting naked with Cam. Feeling his hands on her, his body moving over hers.

Well. Now that he was drunk, that sort of ruined her plan…

“Hmm, you have pretty knees.” He slid his hand up, beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers tickling the inside of her thigh. “You work out, Chloe?”

He was being ridiculous. And distracting. “The biggest workout I’ve had this summer is when I almost flew my car into the lake.”

Cam chuckled, removed his hand from her leg. “I’d show you a major workout if you’d let me,” he murmured, eyes still closed, voice full of arrogance.

And promise. So much promise…

She clenched her thighs together, pressed the gas a little harder, anxious to get home. Not that anything was about to happen, considering he was snoring softly when she pulled into the drive. Had to practically smack him upside the head to wake him so she could help him stagger into the house, where he collapsed on her couch, asleep before his head hit the throw pillow.

Glaring at the big man who sprawled across her couch in a drunken heap, she shook her head and grabbed her cell, calling Jane to let her know Cam was with her and he was fine.

“Did he yell at you?” Jane asked after Chloe finished reassuring her.

“Of course not.” He’d been too drunk to yell. And he wasn’t an angry drunk, either.

Jane sighed. “I hope he apologizes to Mac. He punched him good.”

“How bad is it?” They’d fought over her. Jane didn’t need to confirm it, Chloe felt it in her gut.

“Swollen and bruised. He’s lucky Cam only glanced his fist across his jaw. It could’ve been worse.”

“I’ll talk to him when he wakes up, which probably won’t be until morning.” She paused, heard his nonstop snoring, and wondered how a man could be so loud when he slept.

“You don’t mind him staying there with you?”

“He’s on my couch. It’s no big deal.”

“If you say so. Tell him to call me tomorrow.”

“I will. See ya.” Chloe hung up, tossed the phone on her kitchen counter, and turned to contemplate Cam once more.

What was she going to do with him? Let him sleep there all night? He looked terribly uncomfortable, his too long legs dangling off the end of the couch, his body spread out so if he made one wrong move, he’d be on the floor.

Probably would serve him right, what with all the alcohol he must’ve consumed.

But lying there in his sleep, he also looked…vulnerable. It was a softer side of Cam, one she hadn’t seen much, if ever. Had a feeling the first time she saw him like this was last night.

He’d stolen her heart completely with his admission. And fired her body up until it was begging for more before they were so rudely interrupted.

Deciding she couldn’t stand around for the rest of the day watching him, she went to her room, changed into her shorts and running shoes, and decided to take a walk down by the lake.

Unfortunately alone.

…

Cam woke with a start, the room dark, the shadows different from the ones he was used to in his room at Patrick’s house, and the scent that lingered in the air reminded him of…

Chloe. He was at Chloe’s house.

Lifting himself up, he groaned, then lay back down so quickly, he conked his head on the edge of the couch’s arm, which made him groan louder. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

He stared at the ceiling, noticed that the room spun even though he wasn’t moving. Still a little drunk.

Not a good sign.

Hauling himself into an upright position, he glanced around, noted that it was completely dark. Saw from the glowing blue digital light on the microwave in the kitchen it was past one in the morning. Which meant he’d slept at least six hours, passed out on Chloe’s couch.

He was such an ass. Could hardly remember how he got here. The two girls flirting with him, Chloe swooping in and making her claim like a jealous girlfriend, which he’d loved.

Touching her thigh, telling her he’d give her a workout she’d never forget or some such bullshit. Then stumbling into her house, falling onto the couch, and that was…it.

She probably hated him. Fine, because he was still sorta pissed at her, irritated she gave in to Jane. Could he blame her? Should he blame her?

Yes and no.

He stood and shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a giant cup of water and drained it. Then poured himself another. All the whiskey he’d drank had left him dehydrated and his mouth tasted something awful.

Deciding to do something about that, he crept to her bathroom, making sure he was quiet when he closed the door before he turned on the light. Trying his best not to invade her privacy, he dug around, looking for mouthwash, though if he had to squirt a wad of toothpaste in his mouth to get rid of the foul taste, he’d do it.

Luckily enough, he found the mouthwash in the cabinet under the sink and took a swig, swished it in his mouth, gargled as quietly as he could before he spit it out and rinsed the sink. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he grimaced.

He looked like hell. His hair stuck up all over the place, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his shirt and shorts were wrinkled. He looked downright rough. Like passed out in a gutter rough.

Imagine what he might’ve looked like if Chloe hadn’t come to the bar and rescued him? He shuddered at the thought.

Turning off the light, he exited the bathroom and stood in the hallway, contemplating his next move. He couldn’t leave, since he wasn’t sober enough yet. And he really didn’t want to go back to that couch, either. It was too short for his over six-foot frame.

He carefully opened a closed door and peeked inside, could make out it was a guest room but there were boxes and bags and all sorts of stuff on top of the bed. Guess he couldn’t sleep there, either.

Feeling a little like Goldilocks, he figured his last option would most definitely be the best, what with a cozy bed and an even cozier woman to snuggle up to.

Frowning, he shut the door and started for the room at the end of the short hall.
Cozy
was not the proper word to describe Chloe. Sweetly sexy, that worked. Warm and open? Oh yeah, that fit her to a T. Would she welcome him in her bed like this, in the middle of the night and him still a little drunk?

His hopes were high.

Cam entered the room, stopping at the foot of the bed so he could watch her. The room was dark, he couldn’t make out much but a lump in the center of the bed and he smiled. Looked like perfectly polite Chloe was a bed hog.

Not deterred, he unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them off, kicking them aside. Tore off his T-shirt and nearly fell on his ass when the room still spun a little bit. With a grunt, he braced his hands on the edge of the bed, which caused Chloe to roll over, a soft little murmuring coming from her.

That intimate sound sent his body on high alert. Swallowing hard, he second-guessed himself. He was venturing into unchartered territory. Becoming intimate with Chloe wasn’t a simple good-time summer romance like they’d agreed upon. Damn it, he needed to confess to her about their argument before he took this any further, but how? He didn’t want to ruin this chance. Hell, it was already halfway ruined, what with him slightly drunk and still a little mad at her himself.

His head spun from too many conflicting thoughts. He needed to just go for it. Confessions could be made tomorrow. Right?

He was fooling himself if he didn’t admit what they shared was far more than a simple summer romance already. But taking it to the next level would bring on certain expectations. She warned him if they had sex, she would become too attached. When she’d said that originally, he’d freaked out a little.

Now, he…wanted that. Wanted to see what happened when they took that next step. How would it affect her? More importantly, how would it affect him?

For once in his life, he was eager to find out.

Chapter Nine

Chloe woke to warm, strong arms wrapping around her and hauling her close to an equally warm, hard muscled body. Her breath lodged in her throat and she lay there completely still, knowing exactly who was in her bed. She recognized that deliciously intoxicating masculine scent anywhere.

Cameron.

Was he still drunk? Or had he sobered up somewhat? If she’d known he’d sneak into her bed, she would’ve dressed better. Worn sexy lingerie to impress him. Or maybe nothing at all if she was feeling really daring.

Instead, she’d crawled into bed a few hours earlier wearing her usual. An old, thin white camisole and cotton panties. She’d had a hard time falling asleep, knowing Cam was in the next room, oblivious in his drunken stupor. When sleep had finally come, she’d dreamed. Of skinny-dipping with Cameron in the lake, splashing him when he tried to grab her. Until finally he caught her, yanking her in close, letting her know without a word just how much he wanted her…

“Mmm, you’re hot.” He nuzzled her neck, pushed her hair away so he could press his damp mouth to her rapidly beating pulse. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Cam murmured.

She tilted her head to the side, offering him easier access, and he took it, nibbling and licking a path down her neck that had her sighing with pleasure. “You disturbed my dream,” she murmured sleepily.

“Tell me this isn’t better than what you were dreaming about.” His smug confidence made her smile. Especially since he was right.

“Considering I was dreaming about you, the reality is only somewhat better,” she answered. “Are you angry, Cam? About what happened with your family? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell Jane anything.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered. His arms tightened about her waist and the next thing she knew he hauled her beneath him, his big body pinning her to the bed, his hands braced flat on either side of her pillow.

Opening her eyes, she found him watching her. His hot gaze roved over her face, skimmed down her throat to land on her chest. She wore no bra, the camisole’s fabric was thin and see through, and there was enough dim light coming through the open window above her bed for him to see her. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head once, released a harsh breath.

“God, look at you,” he muttered, almost as if he were talking to himself. “You’re killing me here.”

“Cam.” He opened his eyes when she called his name and she reached for him, rested her hand against his scruffy cheek. “What are you doing?” Stupid question but she was unsure.

A cocky grin appeared and he turned his head, pressed a smacking kiss to her palm. “Joining you. Do you mind?”

“Are you still drunk?”

“Maybe a little.” The grin faded. “You know, you’re right. I should be mad at you.”

Dread filled her and she let her hand drop. “Now you want to talk?” They should. It was only right.

“You shouldn’t have told Jane about my accident.” His gaze hardened and he lifted off her, settling in beside her, lying on his back. “I didn’t expect you to break my confidence, Chloe. That…hurt. What I told you was private.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. She just wouldn’t stop badgering me! You know how she is. And I slipped. It was a stupid slip and I hate that she got it out of me and I hurt you in the process. I wish I could take it all back.” She meant it. “I only told her because I was worried about you. They want to help you.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need their help.” He crossed his arms behind his head, hands linked at the back of his neck. He stared at the ceiling. “They tried to stage some sort of bullshit intervention.”

“I know. They did it because they care about you, though. They love you and their feelings were hurt because you kept your accident from them,” she whispered. God, she ached for him. For all the hurt and humiliation he’d faced. His pride would be his downfall if he wasn’t careful. “You have to know I didn’t expect them to do that, Cam. I didn’t know Jane was going to tell them and confront you with it. I’m so, so sorry.”

He turned to glare at her. “Who told you about the ambush? Wait, let me guess.” His mouth thinned. “Mac.”

“No. I haven’t talked to Mac in days.” She propped herself up on one arm so she could look down at him. “Jane called me. She was worried sick when you blew out of there.”

“I was furious. But I’m over it. You didn’t mean for that to happen, Chloe. I get it.” He moved his gaze from hers. Stared at the ceiling again. “How did you figure out I was at The Tree?”

“I just…I don’t know. I had a feeling you’d be there.” She had no explanation beyond instinct and that sounded ridiculous.

“Huh.” He paused. The tension in his body rolled off him in waves and she wished she could reassure him, touch him. Let him know just how sorry she was, that everything blew up in his face. She’d never meant it to go that far. “I hit Mac.”

“I heard.”

He sighed. “Want to know why?”

Yes. No.
“Does it involve me?”

Cam looked at her again. “Yeah.”

Her heart felt like it was going to seize in her chest. “Then tell me.”

“He said I shouldn’t use you as my sexual plaything.” Cam laughed. “There’s nothing sexual going on between us so I guess I dodged that accusation.”

She didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. She appreciated her friend’s concern but seriously…

It was none of his business.

“Then Mac told me if I broke your heart, he’d break my face. But I broke his face first.” He held his hand out toward her, his knuckles scraped. “It still hurts.”

“Want me to kiss and make it better?” What had just compelled her to say that?

His eyes darkened. “Yeah.”

She took his hand in both of hers, brushed her lips across his warm, damaged skin. He’d hit his brother over her, in defense of her. The realization was still staggering. “Better?”

“Maybe.” He slipped his hand from her gentle grip, his cloudy gaze locked with hers, his expression earnest. Curious. “I need to know. Is there a chance I could break your heart, Chloe?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Her heart was already breaking for him, not that she’d ever admit it. She was in love with him.

But she couldn’t say it. Not yet. That was the hardest part of all.

“I break everyone’s heart,” he whispered, rolling on his side, shifting closer to her. He took her hand, slid his fingers between hers, his thumb brushing across her knuckles before he linked their fingers together. “My family’s, my friends’. I don’t know how to stick anymore, even when I want to.”

“I could teach you.” She cleared her throat. If he turned her away now, she was done. She couldn’t face the humiliation of being so open with her feelings for Cameron any longer if he shut her down. Or worse, turned it into a joke. “If…if you want to know how.”

Without a word he moved over her, cupping her face with his calloused hands. “Every time,” he murmured, his expression grim, his gaze pained. “Every time I’m ready to pull back, you have this way of reeling me in.”

She released a shuddering breath, not knowing what to say. And then she didn’t have to speak at all. He settled his mouth on hers, softly, sweetly. Turning the kiss instantly hot, wild. Deep.

Heaven help her, the man could kiss. He tasted fresh and minty, his tongue doing wicked, erotic things, and she responded to him like the hopelessly in love fool that she was. Clinging to him, her legs tangled with his, she wound her arms around his neck, buried her hands in his silky soft hair.

“You make me want to stick,” he whispered close to her ear just before he nibbled her earlobe. “For you, Chloe, I’d do just about anything.”

Oh, God. Did he mean it? She’d fall apart if he didn’t. If this were nothing but meaningless, drunken rambling she’d never forgive him.

“All this romancing has nearly pushed me past my breaking point,” he murmured, his breathing ragged, his expression edgy. “I want you. So damn bad it’s taking everything I have not to attack you.”

He kissed her again before she could reply and she melted into the mattress. His hands were everywhere, pushing the hem of her camisole up past her ribs, exposing her. Lifting away from her, he stared at her stomach, his gaze lingering on her almost bared breasts. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

She tilted her head back, her gaze meeting his defiantly. He was trying to trick her. She knew he wanted her to deny him. It would be easier that way. After all, he was the one breaking her single simple rule. But it was her rule to break, and their sweet summer romance had run headlong into the sexy, passionate romance category.

“I want this,” she whispered. “I want you, Cameron.”

…

Cam had half hoped she’d turn him away. Tell him she couldn’t go through with this so he’d have no choice but to release her. Leave her bed and sleep on that godforsaken couch for the rest of the night, his body aching with wanting her.

But she wanted him. Maybe she even needed him as badly as he needed her. He’d already said too much, admitted far, far too much. When it came to Chloe, he had no control of his emotions.

None.

Without a word he slid his palms up, taking the fabric of her thin tank top with him over her breasts, lingering on her lush, soft curves. She whimpered, arched into his hands, and he pushed the tank up, wanting it off.

She lifted her arms, allowing him to remove it, and he pulled the tank over her head, tossing it onto the ground. She didn’t move, didn’t so much as flinch as he studied her, his breaths coming rapidly as he drank her in. Open and vulnerable and so achingly beautiful he was almost afraid to touch her.

Knew that once he did, there was no going back. She’d become his.

And he didn’t know if he could ever let her go.

Her arms still stretched above her head, she watched him, her gaze glassy, her face flushed. “There doesn’t have to be any walls between us, Cam.” Her voice trembling, she visibly swallowed. “I don’t understand why you keep throwing them up.”

She accepted him so easily, put no conditions on him besides the no-sex thing, and that had been a form of protection. From him. Her own sort of wall she’d thrown up, and he’d eventually worn it down anyway. “You deserve better—”

Chloe sat up quickly, pressing her fingers against his mouth, shutting him up. “No, I don’t. I deserve
you.
” She traced his lower lip. Her trembling fingers sent a wave of emotion through him so fierce it took his breath away. “Why do you always put yourself down?”

Cam bent his head, focused on her beautiful breasts on blatant display. “It’s easier. That way I don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations. Why do you think I never stick around? I can’t disappoint them if I’m not here.” He touched her, curved his fingers around her breasts, stroking her. “Your skin is so soft.”

“Cameron,” she breathed, the sound of his name causing him to lift his gaze, still holding her breasts in his hands. “All those expectations you’re talking about? You put them on yourself.”

He tried to say something. Defend himself. Deny what she said. “You think you really know me? Have me all figured out?”

She moved into him, her mouth meeting his. The kiss was hot, wild, touched him to his very soul, and when she broke the kiss first, she placed her hands on his cheeks, gave him a little shake, and he blinked his eyes open in shock. “I know you’re scared,” she whispered. “Well, guess what? I’m scared, too. But I’m more scared that I’ll never know what it’s like to really be with you. And love you.” She bit her lip, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Because I’m in love with you, Cameron. Whether you like it or not.”

He swiped the tear away with his thumb. Devastated he made her cry. But he couldn’t answer her, didn’t know how. Knew she didn’t expect an answer, either, thank God. He’d probably screw it up, say something stupid or worse, hurtful.

And the last thing he wanted was to hurt Chloe.

He would when she found out the truth about the night before her accident. That stupid argument would hang over his head until he finally confessed the truth. He had no right being angry at her for betraying his trust.

He was betraying her at this very moment, keeping things from her. But damn, he wanted her so badly. He needed her. She was brave enough to tell him she loved him…

Later. He would tell her everything later. But now?

Now he had a sexy, near naked woman in his arms and he could hardly think. All he wanted to do was feel.

His chest aching, still reeling from her admission, he guided her so she lay on the mattress, his body pressing into hers. No one beyond his parents and siblings told him they loved him and he rarely said it. Had never really believed in love before.

Being with Chloe, he knew he could believe.

Leaning in, he kissed her. Softly, trying to convey the jumble of emotions swirling within him to her. Trying to prove that he was worthy of her love.

She tunneled her fingers through his hair, stroking him, gentling him. The kiss turned languid, tongues lazily searching each other’s mouths, his hands roaming all over her. He wanted to inhale her, feel her pulse in his bloodstream, flowing through him until he knew nothing else but her.

Cam slid down her body, her soft sighs his guide as he kissed her everywhere. Her panties soon vanished, as did his boxer briefs, and then they were naked. Face to face, he was desperate to make that final connection with her and when she leaned up, pressed her mouth to the spot where his pulse beat wildly, he was done for.

“I don’t have—” He swallowed when she licked him. “I don’t have a condom.”

She smiled against his throat, then slowly lay back on the bed, waving a hand toward her bedside table. “I have some in the drawer.”

He frowned, jealousy flaring within him and she laughed. “I bought them a couple of weeks ago,” she admitted, doing that shy, biting-her-lip thing that drove him wild. “I guess I was…hopeful?”

Reaching for the drawer, he found the box, fumbled nervously as he tore it open and pulled out a packet. Sharp joy pierced his chest. She’d wanted this, wanted
him
for weeks. They’d wasted so much damn time…

And when they finally came together, he wanted to prolong it. Make it last, savor being with Chloe, connected to her. A part of her.