Chapter 27
I almost died by orgasm and what do I do?
I cry.
This is not my life.
Twice this man has turned me into a crying baby. What in the world?
His hands are hot and shaky as he cups my face in his palms. “God, did I hurt you?”
“No,” I sniff. “It’s nothing like that. I just…kind of had a moment. I can’t explain it.”
How could I explain something that’s made of all the threads of my lifetime?
A zing of pleasure ripples through my core as I shift.
He’s still hard. Still stretching me. My nipples start to throb again every time his inhale causes his chest to rub against my aching peaks.
It’s an incredibly intimate moment. Us on the shower floor, me wrapped around him, both of us breathless and spent.
And here I am, ruining it.
Way to go, Camy.
I got it on with the hottest man on the continent and lost my marbles.
“Promise me, you’re okay?” His thumbs stroke over my cheeks, wiping away the last of my tears.
His eyes are so beautiful and intense. Looking at him makes my heart gallop and my throat go dry. But the real problem is that looking at Lucas makes me want things I’ll never have.
My words hitch. “I’m great.”
“I was too rough.”
Lucas sweeps me off the floor and carries me through the little house to the bed. Water goes everywhere.
He lays me on top of the bedclothes, climbs on top of me, and cages me in with his forearms. “I shouldn’t have touched you. I was too raw. I’m sorry.”
I pull back and frown at him. “I’m not sorry.”
His eyes drift closed. Tension scores his brow. “I was a fucking animal.”
I let my hands drift up his lats, across his shoulders, until I’ve got him wrapped in a tight hug. “Yes, you were.”
He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “You deserve better.”
“I loved it.”
When he doesn’t reply, I whisper, “It was incredible. I’ve never had pleasure like that.”
He stops breathing. A groan rumbles through him. “You feel so good. What we just did will be with me until the day I die.”
There must be an emergency brake on my heart because it screeches to a halt.
I won’t forget Lucas either when this is all over. And as sure as I know how to breathe, I know this flash fire affair is going to end.
I reel for a long beat before I can figure out what to say.
“You were incredible. I just held on.”
His mouth moves to my ear. “You were just you. Perfect.”
The tightness in my throat gets worse.
I’m not perfect. I’m flawed. Broken. And not even being honest with the man.
A weird sensation takes root inside of my body. It’s dark and ugly. Filled with regrets that I’m going to have.
Guilt is a bitter pill.
I wiggle away from him and climb off the bed as pain scores through me. I try to sound light even though my soul feels like a boulder the size of a small car. “I saw your first-aid kit in the bathroom. I’m going to take care of that arm now, even if I have to hold you down.”
“If that’s code-speak for you crawling on top of me, then I’m down with that.”
I shake my head, laughing as I trot to the bathroom. While I’m there, I use the bathroom, wipe his cum off my thighs, and look in the mirror. I’m not sure how I feel about the woman looking back at me.
I’ve broken every one of my personal rules. Starting with the one that I let something personal affect my work. And god, I can’t believe we didn’t use a condom. But the worst of all…I’ve let myself catch a case of the feels for a man I can’t have.
“There are only so many things you can do in a bathroom that small,” he calls from the bed.
I grab his kit and head back before I go any farther down the dark rabbit hole of guilt.
He catches my hand and tugs me, forcing me to climb on the bed. He doesn’t stop until I’m straddling him and his cock is nested between my folds.
“Now this is better.”
He hinges his left arm up and puts his hand behind his head, putting the cut on display.
“Ick. That needs stitches.”
He distracts me by brushing his other hand across my breast. “Hm, what were you saying?”
I give him a look. “You can’t be doing that while I’m working.”
“You’re cute as hell when you concentrate.”
I make a face at him. “You’re annoying when you’re distracting.”
His hand trails down my stomach, warm and strong. “I love your body, Poppy.”
I pinch my lip between my teeth.
“Why do you react like that when I call you Poppy?”
I turn my attention to unzipping his massive first-aid kit. “This thing is like a hospital emergency room.”
“Evasive,” he rumbles.
I pull out some antiseptic wipes and some butterfly bandages. A suture kit falls out and lands on his chest.
“Stitch me up.”
My eyes dart to his. “You’re kidding. Me?”
“Not joking in the least.”
“You’d trust me to stitch you up?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You trusted me to be inside your body. It’s only fair.”
I look at Lucas as a quiver forms in my stomach. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
He catches my hand. The power of his inspection makes me want to shrink away.
“I see your secrets, Camile.”
“Back at you.”
I try to slide off of him, but he reaches for me, cups his hand around the back of my neck, and pulls me down until we’re nose to nose. “I see you, Camile. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I’m going to win your trust and unravel it all.”
Then he kisses me.
I press my hands against his chest where the hard beat of his heart pounds against my palms. The tone of the kiss starts out slow and almost sweet, but it quickly becomes possessive and demanding.
I don’t know if the ripping feeling in my chest is my heart or something much bigger.
When he lets me go, he sits me back upright. “Open the suture kit.”
I gape at him.
“I’ll tell you what to do.”
“SEALs,” I mutter. “Crazy men.”
“Crazier than you can probably imagine.”
The hidden message behind that reply causes my brain to crackle.
I can’t even deal with that. “If you’re serious, tell me what to do.”
Lucas guides me step by step, watching me with scorching intensity as I clean and stitch his cut. When we’re done, he sets me aside like I weigh nothing. He scoops up the first-aid supplies, kisses the top of my head, and strolls off to the bathroom.
When he comes back, he’s popping some pills into his mouth. “Antibiotics,” he says after he swallows and chases with bottled water.
I draw a deep breath as I pull the throw around my waist. “We should talk.”
He cuts off the light. The edge of the bed dips. Somehow, he wrangles me around until he’s on his side and I’m tucked against him.
We’re both still damp. The fan blows across us, evaporation of the water off my skin cools the flush.
He sighs deeply and brushes his nose over my ear. “Not now. Let’s just let our demons sleep.”
I turn my head to look at him in the darkness. There’s just enough light from the sky outside our window that I can see his eyes. What I see there is fathoms deep, swirling with ghosts, and more than we could probably unpack in a lifetime.
Why does it feel like I’m looking in a mirror?
God.
I blink and close my eyes before I let something out that I shouldn’t.
He quietly says, “Tomorrow is a new day.” His fingertip coasts across my brow, brushes my damp hair back from my face. “You still didn’t get a shower.”
I chuckle huskily. “I got railed in the shower.”
“But you didn’t get to shampoo your hair.”
“I’ll live. Besides, I’m not sure if I could stand up for very long right now if I had to.”
“No need, you’re right where I want you.” His tone is sleepy and makes me wonder what his morning voice is like. I bet it”s delicious.
I stretch along his side. Nuzzling closer. Refusing to think about how much I like the way he feels.
I’m fighting an inner battle when he whispers, “Guess what?”
“I can only speculate what you might be thinking.”
“This bed is plenty big for two.”
“You better not snore.”
He chuckles warmly against me, sighs, and seconds later, he’s out.
I stare into the darkness, sure that sleep will never come. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again.
But when I stir again, birds are singing outside the window. The sun is bright, and Lucas is sitting in a chair with his head in his hands.
When he looks up at me, the softness he had in his eyes last night is gone. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know who I’m looking at.