“Ironic since for a long time you have.” Cam snuggled into a needy spot between her neck and ear, his breath misting the skin with the words.
Jo would have pinched herself if she hadn’t been death-gripping Cam’s forearm to stay upright. This day, the weeks, the month had been grueling and had wrung so much energy from her, she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate what had happened over the last few days. For nearly seventeen years, the man, now hard at her back, now nibbling at her neck, now caressing fire across the strip of skin between her jeans and her shirt, had been her unrequited love. This beautiful man, who had no idea how incredible he was, was taking care of her. Her. Jo, who had always taken care of everyone else. And she loved surrendering to his care. It was like bungee jumping off the moon with Cam as her cord.
Jo forgot that she could barely skate. Ignored the fear of falling and possibly spraining a limb, and submerged herself in this moment. Sunk into the strong arms surrounding her, drawing huge, gulping breaths of this dream.
“What’s this song?” When she released his arm, she slid her hand with slow caution, lest she collapse, over his shoulder and up into his hair. “I’ve heard it before.”
“Of course you have. It’s a classic. Marvin Gaye. ‘I Want You.’”
Marvin dripped sex over every lyric, his voice reaching and stretching and breaking into an orgasm of sound that left Jo hot and wet and melting into Cam’s chest. Every word seemed to echo her story, the heartbreak of a one-way love. Every word followed their past to this second where her fantasy had crystallized into this improbable reality of a relationship with Cam. Finally.
A stealthy wetness crept from the corners of her eyes. The sweetness, the about-damn-time rightness of being pressed into him, rattled the gate Jo always locked over her composure. In the middle of a skating rink, surrounded by couples dancing and dipping and whizzing, she was coming undone. She sniffed, determined to hold on to as much of her dignity as she could.
“Hey.” Cam twisted his fingers around hers more tightly, his hand squeezing her waist. “You okay?”
Jo nodded, words trapped between the walls of her throat, squirming to escape.
Cam skated around to face her, stopping them in the middle of the rink. He lifted her chin, inspecting her features in the dim, multicolored light.
“You’re tired and probably hungry. Enough for one day. Ready for some food?”
Jo nodded, hungrier for him than for food. She let him pull her along to the edge of the rink, being careful when he told her to. Watching her step when he took her elbow. Is this what she had been missing running the show all these years? This feeling of being cherished by a man, swaddling all her weariness? But who was she kidding? It wasn’t just any man. It was Cam. “Any man” would have his balls between his eyes by now for presuming to take control and dictate anything to her. Cam knew her too well and cared about her too much to abuse what she was giving him.
“If we do this again, I need to bring my own skates.” Jo pulled the skates off and ran her hands across the wheels. “I don’t share shoes, even the wheelie kind.”
Cam laughed, grabbing both their skates and heading toward the rental counter while Jo slipped on her flats. She walked up behind him and noticed Brandee pointing an attractive woman in Cam’s direction. The woman stood petite and curvy. Her sandy hair lay close against her scalp, a lovely contrast to her almond-colored skin. In a few swift strides, she reached Cam’s side and ran appreciative eyes up and down his tall frame.
“Brandee said you were looking for me.” She leaned one rounded hip against the counter Cam had set their skates on. “I’m Lashaun, and you are?”
“You probably don’t remember me,” Cam said to the woman. “I was only like eleven years old the last time you saw me, but it’s—”
“Little Cameron?” The woman’s eyes rounded and widened. “Damn, you grew up fine.”
The low rumble of Cam’s laugh reached Jo’s ears.
“I haven’t been back here since I left years ago, but I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” Lashaun raised penciled brows. “Sneaking you in all those times?”
“Yeah. There weren’t a lot of people doing me favors back then. It meant a lot.”
“I was only twenty-two years old.” Lashaun moved an inch closer. “Ten years ain’t nothing now. You ever wanna get up, just let me know.”
Okay. Enough memory lane. Jo didn’t care if the woman had slipped Cam food and water in solitary confinement, if she got any closer, Jo would shove those talon-like nails up her nose.
“Uh.” To say Cam looked unsure of how to respond would be to grossly underrate the
What do I do now?
that was all over his face.
“You ready, Cam?” Jo slipped her arm through his and microwaved her smile before serving it to Lashaun. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Lashaun started her inspection with Jo’s toes and made a slow journey up to the top of her head. “You Cam’s girl?”
“Yeah,” Cam said before Jo could respond. “This is my girlfriend, Jo.”
It would never get old. Hearing him claim her that way with that word, it might always feel like Christmas and the lottery all rolled up and tied into one Cam-shaped bow.
“My girl’s hungry, so we’re gonna get out of here.” Cam brushed a few strands of hair behind Jo’s ear before giving Lashaun one more smile. “Thanks again.”
A few minutes later, Jo glanced at Cam’s strong profile in the dimly lit car. Same high cheekbones. Same lips, sculpted and full. Same will-they-ever-end lashes. He looked like her Cam, but she couldn’t help but feel like she had lost a part of him over the last few hours in that skating rink. Or more accurately, realized that she’d never had him at all.
“Was it
that
bad?” Cam spared her a glance, merging onto the interstate that would take them to the cottage. “I thought it’d be fun. Next time we can do something else. Your choice.”
“It
was
fun.” Jo turned her body toward him as much as the seat belt would allow.
“If this is how you respond to fun, I’d hate to see you after the dentist.”
“Sorry. I’m just thinking.”
“An occupational hazard of being brilliant, I hear. Wanna share?”
“It’s ironic that you’d say that since I wondered the same thing about you. Do
you
want to share?”
“Should I be following you? Like actually know what you’re talking about?”
“Tonight was…eye-opening.”
“Because I finally found something you suck at?”
“Cam, I’m serious. Tonight I realized just how much you’ve held back from us. From me.”
Cam puckered his brows until they almost touched in a grumpy kiss on his forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like you appeared at twelve years old, and I didn’t bother to ask where you’d been or what your life had been like before. I just took it all at face value and dragged you into our life.”
“We were twelve, Jo. I didn’t expect you to psychoanalyze me.”
“Even later, I didn’t probe. Maybe I was just so glad to have you, I didn’t ask about your past.”
“And maybe I was so glad to leave my past behind, I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I didn’t even know you could skate like that. You thanked Lashaun like she’d been this important person to you at one time, and I’d never heard of her. I thought you were white.”
Cam laughed, sending a half-exasperated glance her way.
“I
am
white. I’m just also black, Puerto Rican, and no telling what else. I don’t really think about it.”
“I should know these things.”
“I don’t know every detail of your life. No one does.”
“These are not details, Cam. These are essentials. I want your essentials.”
Though his eyes remained straight ahead, she felt like he was exposing something to her he’d been holding back.
“What’s essential is that I want to be with you. Now.”
Jo allowed the words to settle onto her heart. To water the seeds of security they’d been planting over the last few days. Years of rejection didn’t disappear in two days, but Cam’s openness was helping.
And yet, being
herself
, she had to press for more. It was in her blood.
“Just now?”
“Jo, we’ve been together a grand total of two days. Give this thing time to unfold a little. Don’t just snap it open like some dollar store fan.”
Jo let her head drop back against the headrest. She was handling this all wrong. She’d hidden so much behind this careful mask for years, and at the first sign that she might get somewhere with him, she spilled her feelings everywhere.
“I didn’t mean to pressure you or to be all ‘define the relationship’ already.”
“I don’t mind defining the relationship. I want to be with you.” Cam shifted his eyes from the road long enough to meet hers, steady and sure. “Period.”
So much for holding back. That look, that moment, snapped the restraints Jo had imposed on herself.
“In that case, you should know that I want to give you everything. I know we’ve only been together for two days, but you know I’ve had…feelings for you for a long time. I’ve spent over half my life holding them back. I’m ready to spill them all over you.”
Cam left one hand on the steering wheel and grabbed her hand with the other.
“Spilling is good. I want all of that. I love it when you’re open about how you feel.” Cam drew a deep breath and blew it out. “I just want to reciprocate, and it’s tough. I told you there were things we still need to talk about. Things you don’t know yet.”
“Do you want this, Cam? You really want me?” Jo held her breath, waiting for his response.
Cam pulled into the cottage driveway and turned off the car. He turned to her, linking their fingers and pressing their hands to his chest.
“Let me put it like this.” He took her eyes hostage, mesmerizing her with a look. “All those times you wondered if I might care, I did. All the times you thought you imagined I wanted you, I wanted you. And all those times you wondered if I might one day feel the same way, well, I do.”
If hope were a bitch, then Jo would just have to watch her back, because now they were best friends.
I
t should probably be obvious, but will you get mad if I ask what you’re doing?”
Jo looked up from the eggish concoction she was laboring over, hoping Cam didn’t notice the small tornado that had torn through his kitchen. When she woke up, she’d been alone again. Cam had been outside painting, so Jo decided to get her cook on. She
may
have bitten off more than she could chew.
“Whisking?” She paused mid-whisk. “I thought I’d make you breakfast.”
Cam walked up beside her at the kitchen island, bare chested, wearing only beleaguered jeans, holding on by threads to his lean hips. The ridged plane of muscle and sinew climbing out of the waistband of his jeans distracted Jo momentarily from her task. Seemingly oblivious to the way her body was responding to the mouthwatering sight of him, he eyed the bag of flour spilled across the granite surface, the butchered peppers and onions, the clumps of ham she had “diced.”
He slid her a glance, lips twitching.
“Are you making…are you
trying
to make a quiche?”
“Don’t you laugh at me.” Jo reined her body in long enough to aim her egg-covered whisk at his head. “I am
trying
here.”
“Why try?” He leaned away when she jabbed the whisk at him. “I can cook breakfast for us.”
“I know, but I wanted to do it for you. I can do girl things.”
He leaned in, dipping his head to kiss across her cheeks until he reached her lips.
“Show me your girl things.”
Cam grabbed her wrists, lowering the whisk to the counter and waiting for her to drop it. He pulled her into his arms and slid his hands under the shirt she’d worn to sleep in his bed, palms gliding over her butt in the boy shorts.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” He lowered his head until their lips lined up, running his tongue over the bow of her mouth. “I love my clothes on you.”
“I love your smell on me.” She darted her tongue out to capture his, pushing into his mouth and sliding her hands up over his shoulders and into the dark hair falling around his ears.
He groaned and licked deeper into the kiss, stroking his tongue over the roof of her mouth. One hand cupped her butt and the other wandered up to the front of the shirt. Mouth never leaving hers, he worked the top two buttons loose and slid his hand inside to knead her breast. He twisted a nipple between his fingers, and her breath clogged in her throat.
“Please.” Her plea floated between them, a word held together only by her breath.
Cam moved away from her mouth and over to her ear.
“Please what, baby? What do you want?”
“Your mouth.”
“Where?”
“My…my nipples.”
“I’m really glad you said that.”
Cam pushed the unused food processor to the side and lifted Jo onto the counter, spreading her thighs and planting himself between them. Eyes locked on hers, he pushed the shirt off her shoulders until she was naked from the waist up. Jo wanted to close her eyes so badly, to abandon every sense except what she captured through her skin, to concentrate on the rough pads of his fingers sliding across her nipples. But he wouldn’t let her eyes go. His mouth hovered over her breast, his breath floating over the needy flesh. He started with just the tip of his tongue, familiarizing himself with the areola until her nipples strained toward the promise of his lips and teeth.
“Like that?” He raised his eyes, lips basting her nipples with the question. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
Jo wet her dry lips, sorting through the rubble he had made of her thoughts until she retrieved one word.
“Suck.”
Cam lifted his head, damn him.
“Sorry. I don’t want to get this wrong. Suck what?”
“Suck…suck my nipples.”
His lips immediately took one hostage, torturing the hard, tight bud between his teeth. He pulled back, dropping kisses across one breast and then the other.
“Enough?”
“More.” Her dignity lay in ruins, but she couldn’t focus on anything but the core-melting tug of his lips. “God, more.”
He lavished both breasts that way, a dance of lips, teeth, and tongue that dissolved her muscles until she couldn’t stay upright. She lay back on the island, heedless of the chopped vegetables pressing into her naked back. Cam pushed her legs wide and sucked at the sensitive skin lining the inside of her thighs, drawing blood to the surface. His fingers persuaded the boy shorts down her legs.
The cool air reminded Jo just how exposed she was to him like this. She’d known Cam most of her life, but they’d only been
together
a few days. Him seeing her this way, in broad daylight, in the kitchen, on food—too much. She tried to close her legs and sit up, but he used one hand between her breasts to press her back into the cool granite surface and the other hand to push one leg farther out.
“Cam, could we wait until—”
“No. Now.”
Those were the last words her brain caught and held. He ate her like the first meal of the day. Like he’d slept on an empty stomach and woke up ravenous. He alternated tender licks and kisses and nips with the near-rough pressure of his lips and the ruthless thrust of his tongue, all the while massaging and pinching and rubbing her breasts. Any self-consciousness Jo had melted into a puddle along with her thoughts, pooling around the hips she pushed into his lapping mouth. She grunted and screamed and hissed through the torturous pleasure of him feasting between her legs until a prism combusted behind her eyes, exploding in shards of color. She dug her fingers into the dense muscles sculpting his shoulder. She scraped her nails across his scalp, pulling his hair and pressing her knees into his head while she shattered into his hungry mouth.
Lucid thoughts filtered back into her mind like pinpricks of light. Bits of food clung to her naked back. Her boy shorts dangled from an ankle. She had one handful of Cam’s dark hair, and in the other hand she clutched the whisk. Had she actually just had oral sex on food? For a moment, all she could think of was Clorox wipes, and then Cam stood up. His hair curled and waved around his face where her fingers had rioted through it. His eyes were still smoked up and he glanced between her legs like he wanted seconds. He licked his wet lips, closing his eyes like he was savoring her taste.
So much for lucidity.
Jo sat up and slid her hands to the front of his jeans, gripping him through the denim.
“I’m so ready, Cam.” She spread herself a few inches wider, inviting him in. “Can we do this?”
He grabbed her wrist, pushing her fist up and down on him for a few seconds, biting his bottom lip before stepping away. He walked over to the sink, leaning back and forcing his hands through the dark hair all over his head, drawing and releasing a heavy breath.
“Not yet.”
Everything hot and melted inside Jo cooled and congealed into a solid block of rejection and embarrassment, settling at the bottom of her belly like a bag of stones. She brushed vegetables from her back and pulled the sleeves of Cam’s shirt over her arms and shoulders, not bothering to button up. She crossed the shirt panels over her breasts and hopped off the counter, pulling up her underwear as soon as her feet hit the hardwood floor. She wiggled her toes to loosen the flour from between them and turned to make a hasty-as-hell retreat from this kitchen. She had almost reached the door when Cam’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pressing her back into his chest. She tried to shake him loose, but he tightened around her.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words into her neck. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You never do.”
Jo elbowed him in his six-pack and turned on him, anger bubbling up from a dark cave in her chest and forcing angry words into the light.
“You son of a bitch.” She balled her fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes up at him. “I have raw veggies in bad places, and you have the nerve to turn me down? Again?”
Were his lips twitching? Oh, he thought this was funny? The hurt, the years of rejection and confusion and mixed signals? That was funny to him? Jo charged back over to the center island and grabbed the bag of flour. Before Cam could anticipate what she planned, she dumped it all over his head.
“Laugh now, Cam.”
And of course he did. He clutched his stomach and leaned against the wall, flour dusting the dark, silky hair and covering his broad shoulders.
“Peppers!” he managed to say, gasping between laughs.
This was not funny. Or maybe it was a little, but Jo refused to let him lighten this moment. Even when the corners of her mouth pulled up without her permission, she refused to gut bust laugh. Even when a giggle poked through her tight lips, she managed to hold it together.
“Flour!” Cam pointed to his head and slapped a knee. Literally slapped a knee. He could be so broody and secretive that when he laughed like this, free and silly, she could never resist him. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t resist him dark and broody either. Was there a state she could resist Cam in? It hadn’t been discovered.
So she grinned. She rolled her eyes, but her grin green-lit him to approach her again, albeit with his
I come in peace
arms up. He wrapped himself around her and shook his floury head over her like a wet dog, sending snowy particles all over her head and shoulders.
“Cam!” She laughed and slipped her arms around his waist, giving in to the irresistible force he exerted on her without even trying. “I need a shower.”
“We both do.” He pushed a flour-coated tendril back from her face, the laughter slowly leaking from his face. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong a few minutes ago.”
“It wasn’t the way you said it, Cam.” She brushed a little more flour from his hair, resting her elbows on his shoulders. “It’s the fact that you keep saying it. This isn’t about me being horny.”
Although there was a stack of crocheted muffs and a knitting needle in her bedroom that might beg to differ. Even so…
“This is about you trusting me with whatever is holding you back. Not just sexually. You’ve corded off all these parts of your life, of your past, that you don’t want me to access or to know about.”
“I’m trying, Jo.”
“No. Trying is talking. Trying is trusting me.”
Cam nodded, resolve taking full possession of his face, inch by inch.
“Can we just enjoy the day before we talk about my screwed up past? I promised you fun and rest this weekend.”
Jo nodded, leaning up on her toes to press her lips to his, freezing at the musky sweetness lingering on his lips. She jerked back, but Cam pressed his lips into hers again.
“You’ve never tasted yourself?”
“What…when…no. Of course not.”
“This is me and you. Taste us.” He eased his tongue into her mouth, tracing the silky lining inside her cheeks before pulling back. “See how good we are together?”
“Not yet.” She gave him a wicked grin and a wink before heading toward the door and her shower to wash the veggies off. “But I will soon.”