Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Andi
A soft tap on my door woke me from my doze. I sat up and blinked a couple of times, glancing at the time on the microwave. I must have fallen asleep in front of the TV, a blanket draped over myself. So much for leaving it on to keep me awake.
The tap sounded again, as soft as the first time. Tentative. Not like the man doing the tapping.
I shoved the blanket off myself and managed to stand without tangling my feet in it.
Bonus.
Now, if I could make it all the way to the door without mishap, I might be winning against the universe for a while.
Mindful the universe might be vengeful if she heard me thinking like this, I moved carefully and undid the two chains and three locks on my door before pulling it open.
“Hi.” Seeing Cam standing outside my apartment, looking gorgeous with a few days’ worth of growth on his chin, I was suddenly shy.
“Can I come in?” He tilted his head far enough to peer through the gap with both eyes.
“Right, of course.” I stepped back, drawing the door with me.
“You look beautiful.” He leaned over to kiss me before walking into my apartment.
“No, you,” I said automatically. Great, now he probably thought I lost my mind. I closed the door and locked it behind him.
He turned around and raised his eyebrows. “I don't think anyone's called me beautiful before.” He took my hands and pulled me to his chest.
“Why wouldn't they?” I raised my chin to look up at him. He was a few inches taller than me when I wasn't wearing heels. “It's true.”
“You're the beautiful one.” He pressed the tip of his nose to mine. “I missed you. I haven't been able to get you out of my head. Either of them.”
I felt the second one growing as he pressed it against me .
“Me either,” I whispered. “I mean, I only have one head. I mean… Shit.”
Good job, Andi. I was as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.
He chuckled, his breath warm on my face. “You have one gorgeous head.” He wrapped his arms around me, and slid his hands down to cup my rear. “And the cutest ass on the entire East Coast.”
“Now that's where you're wrong,” I said. I reached around to cup his. “This is the cutest ass in the country.”
“Hmmm, I'm afraid I'm going to have to contradict you,” he said. “There's absolutely no ass cuter than yours.”
“Cameron North, if you're going to contradict the boss, we might have a problem,” I teased.
“Are you going to punish me?” he asked.
If my pulse wasn't racing before, it was now.
“I might, but we could also come to some kind of compromise,” I said. “We can agree that yours is the cutest ass on any man in the country.”
I arched a brow expectantly.
“I think you're hoping I'll say yours is the cutest ass on any woman in the country,” he said slowly. “But I stand by what I said. Yours is much cuter.” He gripped me tighter and picked me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist. His mouth met mine in a kiss that should have set the apartment on fire.
He carried me over to the couch and lay me down, before lying over me, his knees on either side of my thighs.
“I've been thinking about this for days,” he whispered. “Kissing you. Being with you.” He kissed me again, then pulled away and frowned. “Unless you just wanted to talk?”
“No,” I said. “Yes. I mean, I want to talk, but I want to kiss you first. Unless you want to talk?”
“I want to have a long bath and a conversation with you, after I taste your pussy and make you come,” he said. “Is that too direct?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “That's exactly direct enough. Don't stop.” I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and pulled his face down so I could kiss his mouth and trace my lips over his.
He ran his hands up and down my body, touching me everywhere, only layers of clothes between us.
He kissed my mouth, down my cheek and my neck. The more he kissed me, the more I wanted. The more I needed.
“Please,” I whispered .
“Please, what?” he asked, his face buried close to my throat. “Tell me what you need.”
“Everything,” I said.
He pushed himself up and propped himself on his elbow to look down at me. “Everything? You might need to elaborate.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back down to me to kiss him more thoroughly. I let my hands wander up his shirt and across his muscular back. Holy puck, it felt like his muscles had muscles.
That thought promptly made me feel self-conscious. My hands and mouth went still, frozen, wondering what the hell a guy like this was doing with me.
He lifted his head and frowned. “What is it? Do you want to stop?” He rolled off me and knelt on the floor beside the couch. His eyes were dark with desire, but laced with worry. “Andi, speak to me. What is it?”
“No,” I said softly. “It's not you. It's one hundred percent me.” I sighed out my nose in frustration.
He pushed himself off the floor to sit beside me and hold both of my hands. “You're beautiful. You know that, right?”
I shook my head sadly. “I don't know that. I mean, I believe you believe that, but I don't see it when I look in the mirror. I see crazy hair I can't control, too many freckles and…" I gestured down at myself.
“The most incredible body I've ever seen,” he said firmly. “Is that what this is about? You think I'll judge you because other people do? Firstly, I wouldn't do that, because you're stunning. Secondly, fuck them for making you feel bad about yourself. When I look at you, I see a smart, gorgeous, intelligent, caring person. Someone who's probably too good for a dork like me.”
“You're not a dork,” I insisted. “You're gorgeous and sexy. You deserve a woman who doesn't look at herself and remember the things people say about her. Someone who doesn't eat too many hotdogs and cupcakes.”
A flash of anger crossed his features. “Who told you you shouldn't eat whatever you want to?”
“Society as a whole,” I whispered, withdrawing slightly from his fury. “My mother in particular. Girls from school. My mirror is a particularly judgemental bitch.”
“If that's the case, I'll smash it for you,” he offered. “It'll be worth seven years of bad luck.” He cupped my cheek with his hand. “I'm sorry people were assholes to you. It's not okay. No one should be treated like that by anyone .”
He looked as though he wanted to growl at my mother, but understood it was a battle for me and her, not for him to undertake on my behalf.
“No, they shouldn't,” I agreed. “I shouldn't let it get to me. I just… I look at you and I… You're out of my league.”
“You have that backwards,” he said. “You're out of mine. I'm a guy who hits a piece of rubber with a stick. Sure, it entertains people and inspires kids to get up off the couch, put on a pair of skates and have some fun, but…"
“You work hard, and yes, you are a role model, which is important. You're making a difference. I sit in an office making decisions that are designed to make people more money. How is that useful?” I sighed softly.
“I heard about the charity event you're organizing,” he said. “What could be more useful? I tell you what, we're both making a difference in the world, we're just doing it in different ways. But you, you look good doing it.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead.
“So do you,” I said.
He put an arm around me and pulled me to him. “ When was the last time anyone made you feel special?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “My…"
Now would be a good time to tell him about Xander. Cam would find out sooner or later. Better he hear it from me than some other source. Especially if that source was the always unreliable world wide web. Who knew what stories were circulating about my previous relationship?
I didn't want to look it up. Xander was firmly in the past, where he belonged.
“My last boyfriend lived here, up until a few months ago.” It felt like several lifetimes. Every time I was with Cam, I felt more alive than ever before. More real. He made me want to be a better person, one who embraces every day and all the challenges that come with existing. Not just existing, but really living .
“His idea of 'special' was putting his coffee cup in the dishwasher.” Xander knew it annoyed me when he left it on the countertop and walked away. I'd glared at him a few times before he cottoned on to my irritation. He rolled his eyes, but he hadn't done it since.
“And having his assistant message me to tell me he'd be home late. And I did the same to him,” I said quickly, before Cam judged him too harshly.
“Sometimes, I think he had a better relationship with Rafe than he did with me.” Rafe could have told me what Xander wanted for Christmas, his birthday or an anniversary present. I suspected that went both ways, that Xander got his ideas about gifts for me, from Rafe.
No one else would have suggested he buy me a life-size cardboard cutout of Damon Salvatore, and he wouldn't have figured it out for himself. The cutout sat in front of the window in my home office.
If you're wondering, yes he was better company than Xander. He had a lot more personality. And was always smiling at me.
“Then he wasn't trying hard enough,” Cam concluded. “I'm going to make you feel so special, the next time we get hot and bothered together you won't second-guess yourself and the way I feel about you.”
“You don't want to…" Of course he didn't. Why would he?
In spite of my insecurities, I knew that wasn't what he was saying. What he really meant was something much deeper than our physical attraction. Something more important.
He placed his hands on my cheeks and turned my face to him. “I want to fuck you more than I've ever wanted anyone else.” He hesitated for a moment, and shook his head.
“No, I want to make love to you. If that means waiting until you understand that's what it is, then that's what I'll do.” He lightly kissed my mouth. “When the time comes, it’ll be worth every second of the wait. Because you're worth it.”
I swallowed down a knot of emotion that threatened to bring tears to my eyes again. This time, not tears of humiliation, but ones of warmth like nothing I'd felt before. The potential of something mind-blowingly amazing.
Was there a hint of doubt in my mind because he was still a smoking hot hockey god? Yes, but I understood he wanted to help me to see myself the way he did.
That was…everything.
“I want that too,” I said. I wanted to feel him everywhere, but he was right. Whatever this was growing between us, it was different.
We might have a lifetime together, but the stronger we build the foundation, the better chance we had of weathering the storms that were thrown at us.