Chapter Six
Cammi
It’s been four days.
Four days of heading to Noah’s apartment like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Four days of falling asleep in his arms and waking up tangled in him, his warmth wrapped around me like a shield against everything I’ve ever known.
Four days of pretending this is just temporary—just something easy, something that won’t leave a mark.
It already has.
“You’re smiling again,” Millie says from across the laundry room, narrowing her eyes as she folds a towel.
I look away fast, trying to hide it. “Am not.”
“Are too,” Millie shoots back, stepping closer. “You’ve been smiling like that for days now. It’s suspicious.”
“It’s not suspicious.” I busy myself with rearranging things that don’t need it. “I’m just…sleeping better.”
Millie snorts. “Sleeping better because of Noah, you mean.”
I don’t answer. Don’t need to.
Millie’s grin widens. “Oh my God. You like him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I exhale, my shoulders dropping slightly. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
I hesitate. Because how do I explain something I barely understand myself? “It’s just…” I start, my voice low. “He makes me feel safe.”
Millie’s expression softens.
“And I help him sleep,” I add quickly, like that balances things out. “That’s all it is.”
Millie raises a brow. “Right. Because people totally sneak into each other’s beds every night just for…sleep.”
I roll my eyes, cheeks warming. “It’s not just that,” I admit softly. “He…he makes me feel things. Things I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel.”
Millie doesn’t interrupt this time. Doesn’t tease me. She just listens.
“And it’s scary,” I continue, fingers twisting together. “Because what if it’s not real? What if it doesn’t last?”
“What if it does?” she counters gently.
I look away. The hope in her eyes makes me want to believe I could have what I want. “People like me don’t get that kind of ending, Millie.”
“People like you deserve it more than anyone.”
I don’t respond. Because there’s a name sitting heavy on my chest. A shadow I can’t shake. Rick. He still texts from different numbers. Still threatens. It’s a constant reminder that what I have with Noah isn’t real. I can’t allow it to be.
I don’t say that to Millie. She’d only pull Noah and Wilder into it, and I’ve brought them enough trouble already. I’ll take the time I have with Noah and let him go when I have to. A sharp pain lances through my chest at the thought.
Would I even be able to put myself back together if it came to that?
???
It was only yesterday I had the conversation with Millie. And here I am, waiting in Noah’s apartment, staring at another text notification from Rick. It’s an unknown number. Again. My stomach drops as I open it.
You think that boyfriend of yours scares me? He can't be at that diner every shift.
My fingers go cold. Another message comes in before I can breathe.
I know where you work, sweetheart. Sooner or later it'll just be you and me. We have unfinished business.
I swallow hard, locking my screen, like that will somehow make it disappear. Like it isn’t already crawling under my skin. Suddenly, I’m glad Noah isn’t here yet because I can’t tell him. I won’t.
If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he’d go to any length to protect me. If he found out, he wouldn’t just worry—he’d do something about it. And I’m not sure what that would look like. I’m not willing to risk it. It could trigger his PTSD.
The door opens. My head snaps up—and everything else fades.
Noah walks in, dragging a hand through his damp hair, his shirt clinging to his skin, his breathing still a little uneven like he’s just finished something physical.
I know he’s been helping Wilder with repairs around the building all day—and the proof is all over him.
Streaks of grime on his forearms, dust in his hair, the faint smell of sawdust and sweat coming off him.
My throat goes dry. I’m still not over how dangerously handsome Noah is—days-old scruff, sharp cheekbones, those mesmerizing blue eyes.
“You okay?” he asks, already walking toward me.
I nod. Too fast. Every thought of Rick disappears from my mind. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He studies me for a second, like he doesn’t quite believe it. But then, he steps closer until we’re but an inch apart. His hand comes up, brushing my cheek before sliding it to the back of my neck and pulling me in.
The kiss is immediate. Deep. Hungry in a way that catches me completely off guard. I gasp against his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt as he presses closer, his body warm and solid against mine.
He makes a low sound, almost a groan, and it sends a sharp pulse of heat straight through me. My mind goes completely blank. When he pulls back, my breathing is uneven, my lips parted slightly, wanting more.
Heat floods my cheeks at the direction of my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about having his mouth and hands all over me. Inside me, stroking and thrusting deep. A whimper slips out as heat pools between my legs, my nipples tightening in anticipation.
Noah’s eyes darken as he takes in what I can only imagine is a dazed, wanting look on my face.
“Keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, “and I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
My heart stutters. There’s something in his tone— something that makes my pulse quicken. It’s part tease, part promise.
“What does that look like?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Not being able to control yourself?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, everything changes. His expression shifts, becoming sharp, focused. Dangerous.
“Cammi,” he says in warning.
I don’t back down. Don’t look away. My need for him, for his touch, is all I can think about. “I’m just curious,” I add, my voice softer now, but steady.
A long silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. Then he steps even closer. My back hits the wall. But I barely feel it. All I can focus on is him—close enough that I feel the heat coming off his skin, close enough that my breath catches somewhere between my chest and my throat.
His hand lifts slowly, like he’s giving me time to change my mind. His fingers tilt my chin up until I’m looking right at him. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
My heart is racing so fast it almost scares me. But not enough to stop me. “I trust you.” And I mean it.
Something shifts in his eyes. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he murmurs.
My breath catches. “Why?”
His thumb hovers over my lip, not quite touching. “Because I don’t play soft, Angel.”
He moves his lips to my ear. voice low and dangerous. “I’m going to tie you up and fuck you hard and fast while you call me Daddy.”
His words send a shiver all the way down my spine. My pussy clenches, slick heat soaking my shorts.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds. “But I won’t hold back.”
I swallow. I should be nervous. Scared, even. But all I feel is heat building under my skin.
“What if I don’t want you to?” I whisper.
Then he kisses me—different this time. It’s deep and potent at the same time, his mouth moving against mine with an intensity I didn’t know he had. When it ends, we’re both breathing hard, and I’m dazed and aching for more.
“Strip,” he orders.
My body moves on its own. I quickly tug off my tank top and shorts under his hungry stare. His sharp inhale sends heat pooling at my core. I watch him pull his own clothes off. My gaze drops to his cock, already leaking pre-cum.
Then he stops, glancing down at himself with a low, rueful sound.
“Not like this,” he mutters. “I’ve been hauling lumber all day.
I’m filthy.” His eyes come back to me, and they go dark.
“But I’m not done with you, so here’s what’s going to happen.
” He crosses to the bed, picking up a tie from the dresser on the way, and the sight of it makes my pulse leap.
“Hands behind your back, angel. On the bed.”
I climb onto the bed, and he binds my wrists with the tie, looping it loosely to the headboard. He tests the give with a tug, watching my face the whole time. Whatever he sees there makes his jaw tighten.
“You’re going to wait for me,” he says, low. “I’m going to shower, and you’re going to stay just like this and think about what I’m going to do to you when I get back.” His mouth grazes my shoulder. “Don’t come. Don’t even try. Understand?”
My whole body is humming. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
Then he’s gone, and I hear the water start.
It’s torture. I strain to listen over the rush of it, picturing him under the spray. My clit throbs. Wetness pools beneath me. My nipples ache to the point of pain. Every sense is heightened—my hearing, my skin, the need to be touched and to touch. The room is thick and pulsing.
Seconds turn into minutes. One minute into two, then five. With every breath, the need climbs higher until it chokes me.
“Please, Daddy,” I whisper to the empty room, though he can’t hear me.
The urge to press my thighs together for any scrap of relief is the only thought I have. But I don’t. I made him a promise. So I just whimper. Beg. Tremble. Need is the only thing left in me.
Finally, footsteps. The water’s stopped. I exhale shakily, waiting. A dark shape moves into my periphery, and I turn to find Noah—clean now, hair damp, skin still flushed from the heat, hard as stone.
He clicks his tongue. “I told you not to turn around, angel.”
“I—”
“You almost made it.” A slow, dark smile. “Almost. That’s still a punishment.”
I don’t care. All I can think about is relief.
He kneels behind me and caresses my ass, sending tingles down my spine. My over sensitized skin lights up. My hips buck, and my arousal slides down my thighs. A loud whimper slips from my parted lips.
Suddenly, a loud smack lands on my ass. “Ah!” I jerk, then tremble.
The need to soothe the sting is overwhelming, but I can’t. The pain blooms into heat, spreading, sinking into my skin down to my core. Another spank. Another loud moan. I reach out to grip the headboard as my pussy clenches hard.
Another smack. A long mewl of need spills out of me. The heat keeps building, and then the spanks come faster. Rhythmic. I start to thrash, chasing my release any way I can. The fire has become a raging inferno, ravaging me from the inside.
One touch on my pussy, and I’ll shatter. So I beg. I plead. I wail. “Please, Daddy! I’m sorry. I— want to come, p-please.”
I don’t care anymore. The shy, soft girl is gone, and in her place is a writhing mess. Then, he stops. “No!” I shout. I just need release.
No warning, he drives his hard cock into me. “Daddy!”
I scream long and loud, bucking wildly as the orgasm crashes through me. My grip on the headboard tightens as he slams deeper, harder into me. It’s different this time. Different from before. His cock reaches a part of me I didn’t know existed.
I’m moaning and wailing. Convulsing from pent-up need as my orgasm rolls on and on. He doesn’t stop—he fucks me harder, driving deeper, clamping a hand at my waist. I’m writhing in pleasure. It’s too much, but I still want more.
“Fuck me harder, Daddy!” I beg, sobbing.
Wave and wave break over me, but I can feel something bigger gathering. It’s building like a hurricane. A volcano. Larger than anything, and it fills me with panic and surrender all at once.
“Daddy?”
“Shh. Don’t worry, angel. I’ve got you,” he assures me.
So I surrender. The raging volcano climbs with every thrust. My release turns endless. Then he shifts his angle, and the new spot makes my walls clamp down. He pounds into me harder, over and over, until the breath leaves my lungs and the urge to hold onto something becomes undeniable.
The tension crests as he drives deep one last time. “Daddy!” I scream, convulsing, hips bucking wildly.
My pussy grips his cock hard as waves of pleasure make me shake. He goes rigid, and somewhere far away, I hear his hoarse shout. “Angel.”
When I come back to myself, my hands are free, and Noah is gently cleaning my thighs with a warm towel. He tosses it aside and gathers me into his arms. For the first time, I’m truly completely spent. My mind is blank, my limbs like jelly.
My body hums, like something inside me has been unlocked, and I don’t know how to close it again. Noah pets me quietly, stroking every part of my body he can reach. I look up to find him watching me.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod against the wall of his chest. “I’m okay.” More than okay. I feel alive. I smile up at him. “You can tie me up and fuck me anytime, Daddy,” I say. Half teasing, half serious.
I watch his blue eyes go dark, and it leaves me a little breathless. A little shaky.
“Good,” he says, then his gaze turns serious. “Do you know what this means, angel?” he asks.
“No.”
“It means you’re mine,” he declares.
My heart thuds. “And you’re mine,” I state.
“Without a doubt.”
I smile drowsily at him and shove my fear down into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind.