Chapter 5
Chapter Five
~MAGGIE~
I finish singing and stop the video recording, then take a deep breath.
It’s been a good afternoon for bagging content for my social media. I just have to record one more song, and then I’ll have everything I need to edit and schedule a whole week’s worth of posts.
With a rigorous work schedule, I like to have things done in advance so all I have to do is publish the videos on the dates and times I want them to go live.
I’ve got it down to a science.
“Okay, one more song, and then we’re done for this week.” I take a sip of my lemon water, roll my shoulders, and reach out to press record when my doorbell rings.
“Damn. So close!” I wrinkle my nose and consider not answering. All of my siblings are at the pub tonight, and I’m not expecting anyone.
But then curiosity gets the best of me, and I close the bathroom door behind me as I rush to the front door and pull it open.
“Hey.”
And just like that, my mouth waters. Standing before me in all his sexy glory is Cameron Cox. He raises an eyebrow, but I take my time and let my gaze wander all over him.
“Well, hi there.”
“I brought dinner.” He holds up a bag, and I sniff the air. “I just have to pop the lasagna in the oven for thirty minutes.”
“Is there garlic bread?”
“I’m not a monster, Mags. Of course, there is.”
“Then you may enter.” I gesture for him to come inside and make a mental note that I’ll have to sing that last song tomorrow before I go to work. “You didn’t have to bring dinner.”
“It’s your night off,” he says simply. “You shouldn’t have to cook on your day off.”
I blink at him and then watch as he unloads the bag. There’s another paper bag full of crusty bread and a disposable pan that Cam slips into my oven before setting the temperature to heat it up.
“I have to use your restroom,” he announces and walks out of the kitchen. He’s halfway down the hall when it occurs to me that he’s headed for the master. I run after him, slipping in front of him before he can open the closed door.
“Not this one.” I swallow hard, short of breath. “You can use the guest bath.”
He narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with this one?”
“It’s uh—” I search my brain, frantically looking for an excuse to keep him out of this bathroom. “I’m having it remodeled.”
“No, you’re not.”
“It’s a mess. I haven’t cleaned in a month.”
He doesn’t flinch. He gently wraps his hand around my throat and jawline and leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “I’m going in this bathroom, Mary Margaret.”
My core tightens—I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Before I can reply, he turns the knob and opens the door behind me. I close my eyes and lean my forehead on Cam’s chest.
But he says nothing.
I open one eye and look up at him.
“The camera is pointed toward the shower,” is all he says.
“Yeah.”
“Please tell me you’re not letting people watch you take a shower for money because I’ll have to hunt every single one of them down and kill them.”
I feel my lips twitch, so I press them together. A giggle bubbles up in my chest.
“Ew, no.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just waits.
“So, you’re welcome to use the guest room,” I say lamely.
“Are you going to tell me what this is?”
Well, damn. I glance back at my setup with the lighting and candles and my phone still held in the slot for the optimum angle and sigh.
“I sing songs for social media, and the shower has the best acoustics.”
He glances down at me, then back up at my stuff, and grins. “Cool. You have a beautiful voice. Why is this a secret?”
“It’s not a secret. ” I shrug a shoulder. “I just don’t talk about it because it’s something I do just for me. It’s kind of my therapy, which I know sounds weird, but?—”
He kisses my forehead. “It doesn’t sound weird. Were you in the middle of this when I arrived?”
“I was about to sing my last song for the week.”
“Well, go ahead and sing it. I have to finish getting dinner ready anyway.”
I blink up at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Sure. Do what you need to do, Mags. I interrupted your evening, not the other way around.”
“It shouldn’t take me longer than about five minutes.”
“Hey, take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen. After I use the guest bathroom.”
And with that, he kisses me softly and then wanders away. I watch his backside in those jeans and bite my lip.
The man has been right under my nose all this time. A considerate, caring, sexy man. And what did I do? I was sarcastic and a pain in the ass.
“I’m an idiot,” I mutter as I walk back into the bathroom, shut the door, and get myself situated once again. Just like I said, it only takes me about five minutes to record the final song for the week, and then I blow out the candles and tuck everything away in my closet until next time.
I’ll edit the videos tomorrow and then get them scheduled. That’s the part that takes the longest anyway.
I can smell the lasagna as I return to the kitchen and see Cameron sitting at my kitchen island, reading something on his phone.
“Thanks, I got it all taken care of.”
He locks his phone and sets it aside, giving me his undivided attention. He doesn’t ignore me or make me feel like his phone is more important than what I have to say.
A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.
“Tell me more about this. Not because I’m being nosy, but because I really want to know. If you love it so much, I want to know about it.”
“I’ve always loved to sing,” I remind him as I check on the lasagna. It’s just starting to get bubbly. God, I love cheese. “Damn, that smells good. I’m hungrier than I thought.”
He’s quiet while I wander around the kitchen, gathering my thoughts.
“On a whim, about a year ago, I posted a video of me singing, and it caught on. Went viral , as they say. And it just sort of evolved from there. Now, I try to post something every day, or every other day at the very least. I record everything in advance to make it easy.”
“How many followers do you have?”
“Just over three million.”
He’s stunned silent, and then he clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry, I thought you just said three million.”
I laugh and nod. “Yeah, I did. It’s a lot of people. Of course, thanks to algorithms and stuff, not all of those people see every post. But a lot do, and they say nice things. I ignore the trolls.”
“What’s your handle?”
I bite my lip. “I haven’t even told my family that I’m doing this.”
Cam frowns. “Why not?”
“Well, Kane wouldn’t know how to use the phone to see it anyway, but I just, I don’t know. I’ve kept it to myself. I’m not embarrassed or anything. It just feels silly.”
“Why?”
“Because they all have such important things going on. Kane with his glass, Keegan and the pub. Shawn writes movies , and Maeve sells houses. And I’m not saying that working at the pub is dumb or anything, but I wanted something that felt like I was successful in some small way.”
“And you don’t think they’d be proud of you?” Cam shakes his head. “You’re wrong. Hell, they’d probably arrange for you to record an album or something.”
I take a long, deep breath as butterflies fill my stomach.
“You have connections through Anastasia’s family,” Cam reminds me. “Hell, why not call Leo Nash? The man’s a rock star.”
“I’m not going to use my family connections,” I reply softly. “The truth is, I don’t want to record an album. I like my life just as it is. But I would love to record just one song. In a studio, with a producer. Just once so I could see what it’s like. I’m a simple girl. I don’t need fame or even a recording career. I like having fun with it. I sing old Irish songs, and sometimes, I take requests. I recorded a Taylor Swift song in the style of an Irish ballad today.”
I take my phone out of my pocket and bring up my account, passing it to Cameron.
“Here, you can look through while I dish up dinner. Do you have social media?”
“No. It’s not secure enough. I have too much information that can’t ever be compromised.”
The kitchen is quiet except for the sound of me singing as he watches the videos, and I get dinner ready. Even after I set a plate in front of him, he continues viewing as he eats.
It’s awkward to eat and watch him watching me. But it also feels good when he smiles down at the screen or when his blue eyes shine in what I now know is lust.
His face is so expressive.
Finally, he passes the phone back and smiles over at me. “You’re fucking amazing.”
I bark out a laugh and cut a piece of my lasagna. “They’re just little one-minute songs, Cam. It’s not a Grammy or anything. Although, it is fun when people duet and add harmony. I’ve even had people add instruments. Musicians are so clever.”
“You’re clever.”
“And you’re flirting with me.”
“At last, she notices.” He winks and watches me as he chews his last bite. “Do you have plans this evening?”
“I think I’ll be hanging out with you.”
He nods, taking his plate to the sink for a rinse before loading the dishwasher.
“You brought dinner,” I say as I finish my food. “I’ll clean up.”
“If we clean together, it’ll be done faster.”
“Are you for real? Like, are you like this all the time or just now while we’re flirting and stuff? After a few months, are you going to get comfortable and relax, and I’ll find out that you really are an inconsiderate jerk who doesn’t do much to help me or do nice things?”
“Breathe.” He sets the covered lasagna aside to cool. “You really overthink, don’t you?”
“No. Well, yes, I do, but not about this. Because it happens a lot. And it’s not because someone is a jerk, actually, but because they get comfortable, and it’s just not important to continue to try to impress the other person anymore.”
“Okay, first of all, yes, there is always going to be some of that. It just happens, Mags. But I’m this person. I’ll bring—or make—dinner, and I’ll happily clean it up. I’m not going to change from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde. That’s not me. That might be people from your past , but it’s not me.”
“Okay.”
I turn to wipe the counter down, but I feel his eyes on my back.
“That’s it?” he says quietly. He’s closer now, his hands gliding over my hips. “Just okay ?”
“Yes. What you said makes sense.”
He pulls me back against him, my back to his chest, and his arms wrap around me from behind.
“I’m not anyone else you’ve ever been with before,” he says. “I’m not those morons you’ve been dating, and I’m certainly not Joey Lemon.”
“I know.” I turn and wrap my arms around his neck. “I know that. I do. I guess that, sometimes, I need to be reassured of it. And I know that sounds dramatic or silly?—”
“Whatever you need to feel secure and confident is not silly. And maybe only a little bit dramatic.”
I smile and reach up to kiss his chin.
“Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
He pulls me closer, cages me in against the countertop, and lowers his head to my cheek. After playfully nipping at my ear, he kisses my jawline.
And when I sigh and press against him, Cam groans and takes my mouth with his, seeming to just sink right into me. My knees fail me, but he catches me, plants the palms of his hands on my ass, and lifts me as if I weigh no more than a child.
“Bedroom,” I whisper against his lips.
“You’re sure?”
“Bedroom, Cameron.”
He chuckles and sets off down the hallway. “Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”
After he lays me back on the bed, he wastes no time getting us both out of our clothes. I’d tell him to turn out the light, but then I wouldn’t be able to see him. And holy mother of God!
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his breath coming fast.
“Nothing.”
“You look…concerned.”
I meet his eyes with mine and then crook my finger. “I’m just admiring the view. You have serious muscles for a computer geek, Cam.”
“You know, being in shape and working with computers isn’t mutually exclusive.”
I don’t have time to react before he crawls over me and kisses each of my hands in turn, then places them over my head.
“Grab on to the headboard.”
I don’t argue as I close my fists over the iron bars of the headboard above me.
“Good girl.” He nips at my lips. “No matter what happens, don’t let go, okay?”
“Are you going to do something scary?”
“No.” He licks a circle around my nipple. “Not at all. This is all about pleasure. Just don’t let go.”
“Okay. I won’t let go.”
I sigh when his hands roam down my torso, over my ribs, and up to cup my breasts as he feasts on them—gently at first and then with a little more force. Not to where it hurts, but just enough to make my hips shimmy and my legs move as I try to relieve the sudden pressure between them.
It’s just like it was before when I was with Cam. Before he stopped and left.
Don’t think about that. Just enjoy.
He’s a magician. That’s the only way to explain how it feels as if he’s touching me everywhere at once, making my body come to life under him.
I push my hand into his hair, and he suddenly boosts himself over me, kisses the offending hand, and presses it around the bars once more.
“Don’t. Let. Go.”
I swallow hard. “Right. Oops.”
He doesn’t smile. His eyes narrow, but he kisses me and then moves down once more to continue the exploration and absolute sensual torture of before. He shoulders his way between my legs, and when his tongue swipes up and over my folds to my clit, my back arches off the bed.
“Holy hell.”
“Don’t let go,” he reminds me with a stern voice before devouring me with his mouth. Soft licks, gentle nips. He lifts my hips off the mattress so he can open me wider and do things that are probably illegal in some states. I thrash and moan and feel the pressure building as my legs begin to shake around Cam’s ears.
I couldn’t let go of the headboard if I wanted to. I have to grab on to it like it’s an anchor and ride the building waves of pleasure until they pull me down and drown me in the foreign sensations overwhelming me.
“Cam!” Is that my voice shrieking?
“Yes, baby, yes. Good girl.” He replaces his face with his hand, and I can’t hold back, I push against him, feeling wave after wave crash over me as I come apart.
I moan when he pulls his fingers out of me, and with a sigh, I whisper, “So that’s what all the fuss is about.”
Cam’s gaze darts to mine. “What did you say?”
I lick my lips and then laugh. “Nothing.”
He kisses my chest, my neck, and urges me to let go of the headboard, then kisses each hand. “What did you say?”
“I said, so that’s what all the fuss is about.”
“Honey, you were married. You’re no virgin.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ve ever had an orgasm.”