CHAPTER 11
Resist the temptation to give a blowie
under a diner table.
“I’LL HAVE THE BISCUITS and gravy, please.” I told the server politely as she wrote it down in her little booklet.
“And I’ll do the same,” Cam said with a smile. “Thank you.”
She blushed deeply when she caught sight of that charming grin. Who could blame her? Cam was gorgeous. But, unlucky for her, he was mine.
She left to put our orders in, slightly flustered. But Cam paid her no mind, he merely turned that charm directly onto me.
“If you stare any harder, you’re going to burn a whole through my face.”
I smirked at him then dragged my foot up the side of his calf beneath the table.
“You’re just so handsome,” I told him, donning a guileless expression and shrugged. “Can’t help it.”
Heat flared in his gaze that shot straight to my belly.
Would it be socially unacceptable to crawl beneath the booth to suck Cam off under the table?
Probably. It would definitely get us kicked out if anyone caught us and, despite being in a corner booth, I didn’t think it smart to risk it and refrained.
If I was under any impression that we had been sated after our frisky shower before heading out this morning, I was wrong. Pleasantly so.
We had indeed washed up, but that was only after we’d jerked each other off. Twice. That final orgasm had wrung me dry, literally. I’d had nothing left to spare as Cam fisted me before I sagged into him. He’d helped me wash while I struggled to remain standing on trembly legs.
I felt my face heat at the fresh memory and took a long sip of my coffee. For diner coffee, it was surprisingly good, rich and not too watered down as it tended to be.
The diner itself was cute and homey, old-fashioned with a farmhouse feel to it.
The walls were old wood paneling with tin wall art and scenic rural photos.
A large wagon wheel sat along the largest wall and mason jar lights lined the walls.
It had a personal touch to it, almost as if you were stepping into your grandma’s kitchen with the rustic charm that older country houses tended to possess.
I was surprised to have never been here before, but it was small and clearly not well known. It made me wonder.
“How do you know about this place?” I asked him over the rim of my steaming mug.
He seemed to think for several moments as he fiddled with the base of his own coffee mug.
Those long, tattooed fingers spun the cup around and around, even as it spilled slightly over the table.
He was still wearing the plastic spider ring I had gifted him on his pinky, and it made my chest go warm and fuzzy.
“Did I ever tell you what I was doing the night I died?”
His question was so out of the blue, so quiet, that I barely heard it.
All warmth and fuzz disappeared as I froze and nearly dropped my cup onto the table.
Blinking slowly at him, I carefully set it down and shook my head.
He was staring vacantly down into the coffee’s dark surface as if deep in thought, or seeing that night playing out before him. His expression was... haunted.
“Do you... remember?” I asked carefully and equally as quiet. A small dip of his chin and those tight lips told me enough. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t-”
“As you’re probably somewhat aware, I hadn’t led the most upright life,” he interrupted me, almost as if he needed to get the words out before he changed his mind.
“There are a lot of things I’ve done that I regret, still do.
I made the wrong friends, did some... bad things.
I stole and robbed then used the money for vices.
Drugs, alcohol... My life was going downhill for...
” He released his emotions in a sad sigh, “For a long time, but I didn’t want to change. I felt like I couldn’t.
“About a year and a half ago, my family decided to intervene on my behalf. My sister and her husband, my mom and dad, they all worked together to find me a new job and a new place close to them just outside of town. They found a rehab facility and I spent a few months there getting treatment.” He lifted the coffee cup to wipe up the spill with a napkin then set it back down.
“When I got out, things were finally going right. At least, I thought they were. Until my past caught up to me.”
The jingle of the door drew our gazes, and as the new customers entered the diner and found their seats close to the entrance, Cam continued, voice still pitched low.
“I owed... a lot of money to some loan sharks. The people who I thought were my friends, they told them where to find me. They thought I was running away from my debts and leaving them to take the fall. I wasn’t.
I’d intended to pay everything back the right way.
But I was too late.” He swallowed, throat bobbing convulsively.
“A group of them came to my family’s home one night while we were all having dinner.
” His voice grew tight, so he took a deep breath, “They had guns. Said if I didn’t give them what I owed, they’d show me what happens when debts go unpaid. ”
His blue eyes grew glassy and, not sure if it was okay or not, I reached out and grasped Cam’s hand over the table. It was the right thing because his fingers quickly clung to mine as if desperate for something to hold onto, anything to ground him.
“A neighbor ended up calling the police. They heard the... the gunshots and the screams. The guys were caught and are likely rotting away in prison somewhere. But... that couldn’t bring my family back.
My parents, my sister Ellen and Tom, their two kids...
But somehow, I survived. This scar,” Cam tapped his right shoulder where I knew sat the mysterious, long-healed wound, “is all I was left with of that night.”
“Oh, Cam...” My chest was aching, eyes beginning to burn with emotion.
“I hated myself after, couldn’t stop wishing that they’d just killed me so I didn’t have to live with the guilt.
I was the reason they were dead, and I still have trouble accepting it.
I was riding to visit my family’s graves the day I died,” he continued.
“That day was the one-year anniversary of their deaths. I don’t remember much of the accident itself.
Just that one moment I was riding my bike and it started to rain out of nowhere.
Then bright, bright headlights. Then nothing. ”
His thumb stroked the back of my hand absently as if he was trying to soothe me, as if he hadn’t just told me his terribly tragic backstory.
I had wondered if he recalled his death and what happened to him, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that he was remembering his past life after being resurrected.
With that kind of pain and trauma, I didn’t think I would want to remember.
Then the thought struck me, “Wait... You were driving here. Your family used to live here? In Briarwood?”
Seemingly thankful that I was steering the conversation away from that awful night, he offered me a small smile.
“Yeah. We used to come here a lot. My parents were good friends with the owners, Dolly and Delia.”
Just then, an aged woman’s voice spoke up, interrupting us.
“I knew I spotted a familiar face.”
Cam and I looked up simultaneously to see a tiny, hunched form with short, curly gray hair approaching our booth. Her kind face wore deep lines, but her eyes shone with youthful joy. She was wiping her hands on a floral apron tied around her thin waist and floor length skirt.
“Camden my boy, how in the world are ya?” she asked, arms spreading wide for an obvious hug.
Cam’s face broke into a bright smile, his previous melancholy forgotten.
“Dolly,” he stood from the booth and hugged the woman back.
Being practically half his size, Cam had to stoop over fully to hug her, his large arms swallowing her whole. He squeezed her, lifting her into a hug as she wheezed out a groan.
“My boy, you’ve gotten so big!” she cheered as he gingerly placed her back onto her feet. Reaching a frail hand up, she cupped the side of his cheek and gave it several familiar pats, beaming up at him, “So tall and handsome too! Oh my, it is so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Miss Dolly.” Cam then snickered, “And I think you’ve just gotten shorter.”
She smacked him playfully in the stomach. “Aging is a bitch. Don’t get old.”
Cam’s smile fell a little when she said this. Only minutely, but I still noticed. Who knew if Cam would get to grow old after being resurrected? It wasn’t like there were many first-hand accounts out there.
Not like I could ask around, either. Cam might be the only one out there, and it was imperative we remained the only ones who knew.
I could already see the article if Cam was ever discovered: “Mad witch captured by BPD after using dark arcane arts to nab himself a boyfriend.” followed by, “Resurrected man finds love again after his lover goes to rot in prison.”
“And who’s this?” the woman asked, her kind eyes landing on me.
I shook the distracting thoughts away and quickly scooted out of my seat to stand. Awkwardly, as if I was meeting his parents, I stuck my hand out and offered it to her. The movement was a tad too aggressive, and she chuckled but gripped my hand between her small, delicate ones.
“This is Victor,” Cam introduced me. He placed one broad, warm hand at the small of my back and added, “My boyfriend.”
The mechanical up and down of my arm stopped as my mouth popped open, and I looked up to Cam in stunned silence. The smile he gave me was soft as a sunrise.
It was only then that I realized I’d completely forgotten my resolve to ask Cam to officially be my boyfriend yesterday.
What with getting lost in the corn maze and our hasty retreat home.
Followed by wine, and pumpkins, and dildos.
Cam stripping me naked. His fingers stretching me wide. His mouth on my cock and...
No, go away horny thoughts! Bad timing!