22. Cameron
Chapter 22
Cameron
I t's been a little over a month since I started sharing Everett's bed at night and waking up in his arms every morning. At home, we're so in sync with each other. We fit together like a custom puzzle, unique, one-of-a-kind, and oh-so-perfect. It's cliché, I know. Everyone who finds their person says it's true, but we fit together because we were made for each other. At least, that's the way I see it. I haven't wanted to rock the boat and talk about the future or what comes next. All I've wanted to do is enjoy every second of pretending this is our new normal. That this is going to be our forever, one where there is no end to these magic moments. Something this beautiful can only be some sort of sorcery. There's no way I'm actually waking up with the man I love naked and wrapped around me like a second skin. No words, just gentle touches, soft smiles, and pure contentment. It's magical, and I'm not ready to return to reality. We'll be forced into a reckoning soon enough. The season will end, and there will be no more shared car rides to work, Connor will come home, and I graduate in a few months. That's why I'm soaking in all the tender, untainted, fleeting moments now, writing them on my heart so it beats with these memories forever. Even if it doesn't work out, I never want to forget what it felt like to be his.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Everett asks as a nervous smile plays at his lips.
"Just collecting a moment," I answer.
His brow furrows slightly, but his thumb continually strokes over the back of mine as he drives us to work. This is the first time I've seen this side of Everett. For as long as I've known him, he's been all work and no play. Suits morning, noon, and night; quiet and around but not present, hardened. When it's just us, he's none of those things. Holding my hand while he drives has become second nature for him. It's part of his routine as though it's always been there. He puts his key fob in the center console, presses the start button, and then reaches for my hand as he backs out. It's a small gesture that makes my heart flutter whenever he does it.
"Have you put any more thought into starting your own brand?"
His change in subject tells me my words made him feel. He's not ready to own those feelings and face what they mean. I know the age gap makes him skeptical for more than just the face value reasons, like believing my interest is temporary, something I need to get out of my system before I realize we couldn't possibly have anything in common. It's the reminder that I'm his dead best friend's daughter. He's a successful lawyer and a prominent philanthropist who started one of the biggest self-made charity fundraisers to raise awareness, built a support system, and drove funding into the hands of people who can make a difference in the fight against domestic violence and trafficking. Our relationship from the outside looking in sorely contrasts with his image. I get that. However, I don't know that it's his image he cares about. Whatever is besting him feels like a clash of morals and beliefs, and then there's still Connor. If I dare to let myself dream about a real future with Everett, he will always be part of it. He might be the ultimate hurdle. Can he get past seeing me as an honorary sister and transition to stepmom? Can I? Admittedly, that thought sounds off-putting, but if you strip away the titles, all that's left is love. It's why I don't take his change in subject to heart. We're both growing through this in our own way.
"I have. With the inventory management software installed and automatic re-order points set, the place practically runs itself. It's given me extra time between customers to do some market research and determine viability. When I thought about a career in fashion, it was always high-end and couture, but I've worked at baseball fields for the past five years now, and they've grown on me. I considered athleisure. Everyone wears it, but because of that, the market is saturated with options."
"So where does that leave you with your future plans?"
I purse my lips and look out the window. I'm unsure why I'm nervous, maybe because speaking my ideas into the universe gives them wings. It is a manifestation of the highest power, speaking your dreams into existence. "I want to design athletic apparel. After dealing with the uniform mishap this season, I think there's a market for it. And I'm not talking wholesale or retail distribution. I want to be a premium brand known for quality."
He nods. "I like it."
He likes it? That's all he's got for me after I confessed my dreams?
"That's it? You like it… not I think that's a great idea. Hell, I'd even settle for that's a terrible investment as long as you were telling the truth."
He squeezes my hand before bringing it to his lips. "Cameron, that was an honest reaction. If you didn't get the response you hoped for, it's not because you don't have my never-ending support. It's because I was thinking it through. I've already told you the fashion world is not my area of expertise. I'm a lawyer, but I'll admit, since you told me you wanted to go into fashion, I may have read an article or two." An article or two. Everett rarely sleeps, which means he's probably done an entire case study. "On concept alone, I think you have a solid idea that could turn into a lucrative empire."
We pull into the stadium's parking lot, and he releases my hand. "You really think it's good?" I ask before he has a chance to exit the car. I don't need to find investors; I have my own money, but I also don't want to squander it on half-cocked ideas.
"The dream was put in your heart, Cameron. You're the only one who can nourish, cultivate, and see it through. Dreaming is the easy part. It takes courage to believe in it and bring it to life, but if anyone can make a dream reality, I know it's you." His eyes hold mine, and I know those last words were twofold. He was once only a dream.
I nod and reach for the door handle with a renewed sense of determination, but before I can exit, he grabs my arm. "You know the moments you've been collecting?" It takes me a second to connect what he's referring to, but I nod yes, believing that I do. "I collect them too. Make sure tomorrow morning when I open my eyes, you're right where you were when I closed them."
I can't help but smile, and he releases me. This morning, I woke up at five a.m. with a million concepts that I had to put on paper before I lost them. While I hated leaving his bed, I love knowing he missed me.
I 've been in the shop for an hour, opening and getting ready for the game this evening. I don't need to get in as early as I do. I've only been coming in at that time to spend the car rides with Everett. I'm only on the clock an hour before game time. When I offered my assistance to Connor, it was for designing apparel, not working in the team shop. After realizing everything I was doing, he insisted on paying me even though I had told him it wasn't necessary. It's a minimum wage salary. I'm not getting paid extra because of who I am, but he didn't feel right about me being here and taking care of things for free. What he doesn't know is I've been taking that money and putting it back into the shop. That's what friends do. I just wanted this job for my resumè, not the paycheck, and now that I've got things on track here, I'm going to talk to Stormy about taking a step back. I'll still be around, but I really want to get things rolling on my business; plus, things are starting to happen at my property, and I want to be there. It's why I need my computer now. I need to open one of the files Mackenzie sent over last night and review it before approving. I'm about to exit the stadium when I remember the car beeping behind us as we walked inside this morning.
"It's locked." Damn, now I have to run upstairs. At least I wore wedges today.
I've wised up. One day, I wore heels trying to turn Everett's head, and my feet hated me for it. Heels on concrete all day was a certified bad decision. I jog up the steps toward the announcer's booth, where the only two offices are located, and find Everett at his computer. My wedges gave me the element of surprise. I make a mental note, adding cute and stealthy to the list of reasons these shoes are better than heels. I take a second to admire this side of him. It's the side I fell for. I wouldn't say I have a type, I've dated country boys, musicians, and jocks, but there's something to be said about a refined man. Even without a suit, he's poised, meticulous, and astute, not to mention sexy as fuck. He started wearing glasses a few months back, but only when he works on his computer. I swear, every time I see them, my ovaries weep. Great. I just came up here to grab keys, and now my brain is headed straight for the gutter. I rasp my knuckles on the metal door frame, alerting him to my presence as I let myself in. The formidable expression reserved for the world softens when he sees it's me.
Then he's out of his chair. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I say as I press a few buttons on the calculator setting atop his desk. "I need your keys." I haven't made a habit of frequenting his office.
He steps into me and wraps his arms around my waist. "Are you leaving me?"
"To leave you, I'd first need to have you." I slowly raise my eyes to his. "Do I have you?"
He pulls me flush against his front and drops his mouth to my ear. "Wrapped around your finger," he softly answers before trailing open-mouthed kisses up my neck and along my jaw until, finally, his delicious mouth is on mine. Yet another reason not to leave his bed in the morning. His kisses. They're everything. One kiss erases my fear and dissolves time. It's an indescribable feeling of completion, like the coming together of pieces you never knew were missing until suddenly they were there. His hand trails up to my neck, and his kiss grows deeper as a low growl rumbles up through his chest. I fucking love that sound. It's the sound of rapture, and it's intoxicating knowing that I'm the source. His lips hastily leave mine only to drop to my bare shoulder before descending. My head lolls back as his mouth paralyzes me, and I forget why I came up here to begin with. Teeth pinch my nipple through the material of my strapless maxi dress, and I can't help but hiss at the sting of pain. "Shh," he coos before pulling down the front of my dress and sucking my nipple into his mouth.
"Mmm," I moan as warmth spreads through my belly. His fingers slowly bunch in my dress, pulling it up as his lips lock around my other nipple. He sucks hard, and my core clenches, begging for more. Those smooth hands expertly start to knead my bare thigh as they journey closer to the spot I need him the most. He teasingly toys with the hem of my thong. "Ev, please," barely leaves my lips before two digits glide through my folds.
Those soft, plump lips trail back up my chest, and his eyes find mine. "I couldn't say no even if I wanted to. You own me. You've always owned me." I don't get a chance to respond before his mouth covers mine, and his fingers slip inside of me. I couldn't form words even if I wanted to. His tongue dives deeper with a groan as his palm presses into my clit. My pussy starts to clench hard, and his lips pull away from mine. "Fuck…" he hisses. "I want you to come on my fingers, sunshine, and then I want you to do it again on my cock."
The words have barely finished leaving his lips when the sound of heels clicking up the staircase outside of his office has us hurriedly pulling apart. I instantly drop to my knees and duck under his desk to pull up my dress. When I look up, his eyes worriedly find mine, and I gesture with my thumb for him to wipe his lips. My gloss is definitely on them.
"Everett, are you up here?" Moira calls just before she rounds the corner. Damn. What is with this woman? I swear she's forever a thorn in my side. They've been separated practically since I moved in at seventeen. A week after I found Everett watching her kiss Kipp beside the lake, she started sleeping in another room. They lived together almost another year before they announced their divorce. She's constantly inserting herself where she no longer belongs, and it's infuriating. If this were any other man, I wouldn't be crawling under the desk, ensuring I'm not discovered. I'd mark my territory. But he's not. So I push down my pride and hide.
"Moira." I hear the unease in his voice. "Another surprise visit," he adds, taking a seat and slowly scooting in. I'm instantly perturbed until I see why. He can't stand; doing so would give away the fact that he's rock-hard. My insides twist at the memory of him being buried deep inside me when we fell asleep last night. Fucking Moira.
"I know you've never liked me coming to the office, but since you took away my house key, this is the only place I knew I'd be able to find you and not intrude."
The not intruding part is off. She is definitely interfering yet again, but the part about him taking away her key might be worth it. That's news to me. It's something that should have been done a long time ago, but the fact that he did it at all is a step in the right direction. It's the cutting of yet another tie that bound them.
"What is so important that it couldn't be handled over email or text?"
She's quiet for long seconds, and I can't be sure since there's no way of seeing her or him, but if I were a fly on the wall, I'd imagine their eyes are locked in some kind of stare down. Everett hasn't placated Moira for some time now. He's been kinder than she deserves, considering he caught her cheating, and it's obvious she doesn't like the new Everett. The one that no longer pushes himself aside to serve her. I can't help but wrap my hand around his calf and give it a light squeeze in support.
"We talked to Elijah and Parker about my visits to Texas and Chad Hailsop. They know about the pregnancy."
Moira's pregnant! I never put too much thought into why Connor was an only child, but Everett knew that name when Parker flung his accusations around at the game, which makes me wonder if he's not a fertility doctor. Maybe early on in their marriage, they tried for more children, but it never happened. That has to be why he knows the name.
His chest visibly inflates, and then he says, "How did they take it?"
"I'm not sure. If you ask Kipp, he thinks it went well, but Elijah and Parker have never been my biggest fans. I believe that's why they latched onto you when I married Kipp. It was their form of silent protest. Taking a side, if you will. They saw me as a homewrecker. It didn't matter that their mother was dead." I hear her heels softly pad across the floor. "You can tell me I'm wrong all you want, but the fact that Parker was so quick to assume the worst of me confirms I'm right. They don't trust me with their father's heart."
"Moira, I've never spoken a word about?—"
"I know you haven't, Everett." She sighs heavily. "I wasted no time remarrying after our divorce, and everyone who knew us in high school probably assumed I'd been cheating on you our entire marriage."
He draws his foot back and sits a little straighter. "I never did understand your decision to move forward with him so quickly. I don't fault you for it. I've just never been able to wrap my head around why you would move so fast, knowing how everyone assumes the worst. Waiting a year could have lessened the judgment and scrutiny surrounding your relationship. You may not have had to carry the weight of that scarlet letter."
"I'd already waited so long. I don't mean to be cruel in saying that, Everett. You have to know I love you. I'll always love you, but I was in love with him. It was always him. If he could have saved me, he would have. We all knew there was no other option that night when Craig threatened us at the bonfire. It was you and the power of your family or the abuse. We had no choice..." She trails off as her footsteps near the desk. I've heard rumors about this night, but I've never heard anything from the source. Moira and Everett were a power couple for years. From the outside looking in, they had a perfect marriage, and depending on your idea of perfect, maybe they did. If money, success, and status equate to happiness for you, then they were that, but on the inside, their marriage was fruitless. They were roommates, not lovers. Once the news of their divorce started to spread, so did the rumors. This topic is one of them. Everett was forced to marry his best friend's girlfriend. It's the why that's always been hazy, but it all makes sense now. Moira's uncle-in-law, Craig, was a dirty police chief who eventually got caught and spent his last days on this earth behind bars himself. She must have been one of his victims, and since Everett's father was a district attorney back when all of this would have gone down, his name held power. By marrying Moira, he could protect her. "I knew how things would look, but when you have the right person by your side, the rest falls away. At the end of the day, the only person who mattered was the one I was going home to. I couldn't waste any more time."
"And the baby?"
I can't be sure what he's asking, but I hear a faint ache in his tone all the same. Everett can wear indifference like a second skin, but apparently not on this subject.
"I'll be sixteen weeks at the gala. We plan on telling close friends and family then. I just wanted you to know. Last time we talked, Elijah and Parker weren't aware, and seeing as how you are Parker's coach for the season, I thought you should know what's going on at home so you have an idea of what's going on in his head out there." I hear the sound of metal clanging off the top of the desk, and I assume she must have picked up one of the knickknacks on top. "That's all I had to say… well actually, have you talked to Lauren, or better yet, Stormy? What's the story?"
"I have an important email I need to get out for the law firm before practice. I can give you a call on my way home."
"You know what, don't worry about it. I think it's time me and Lauren had a chat," she says as she makes her way to the door. "Lauren Rhodes shows up after twenty-two years and starts working for my son while her niece lies to my ex-husband to get a job. We're long overdue." I hear her stop, one heel sounding against the tile floor. "You'll be at the gala, right? When I brought up the date change, you weren't too happy about it. I'm not ignorant to all the reasons we moved the event to fall. I hope you understand why I had to pull it up."
Quick math, she'd be thirty weeks pregnant if they held it in November, as they have done since my parents' accident. Being older and therefore high-risk, I'm sure she didn't want the additional stress that comes with throwing a charity event that far along in her pregnancy.
"I'll be there, Moira."
"Good. Maybe this year you'll bring a date. Perhaps whoever was warming your bed the last time we spoke."
"It's a possibility." Why do those three little words give me an ocean full of hope? She must nod or smile but since I can't see, I'm unsure. Then he grabs her attention. "Moira?"
"Yes," she answers.
"Lock the door before you leave. I don't need any more interruptions."
"Sure," she says without missing a beat, like he's asked that of her countless times before.
When the door clicks shut, Everett scoots his chair back, and I crawl out.
"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing that the conversation was somewhat heavy.
"I've been better. It's not every day your ex-wife walks into your office while your new girl hides under your desk."
"New girl?" I question because I'm not letting that go, especially after he said maybe in regard to bringing a date to the gala.
His hands swiftly push up the armrests of his chair before he pulls me onto his lap. I fall into him clumsily, the move catching me off guard. Everything with him feels so new. I've never seen him this way with Moira, or anyone, for that matter. His hand pushes a piece of hair out of my face before he says, "Cameron, you know I'm not with anyone else. You're all I want. If it's not you, it's not anyone."
"Everett—"
"Shh," he purrs as his lips find my neck. "I know we need to talk, but right now," his hands find my hips as he rocks his hardening length against my clit, "I'm going to need you to finish what you started."
"We probably shouldn't. We've already been caught once."
"The door is locked." He sucks the skin right below my ear into his mouth as his hands trail up my calves; his fingers tantalizingly leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he pulls my dress up. "Unless there's another reason you don't want me to fuck you, I'm going to pull your thong to the side and bury myself inside of that tight pussy I never want to leave."
I was already turned on from straddling his lap, but those words take it to a new level. Too bad I'm greedy, and I want more. If he wants me, he's going to work for it. I push him back against his chair, and his eyes widen in surprise.
"There is one other reason. I know you don't like to be interrupted while you're in your office. What if office sex becomes my new addiction?"
A coy smile pulls at his lips as his hands squeeze my ass hard. "Then we should probably find out. Penciling in fucking my girl on my desk will definitely be mine." When he calls me my girl again, I'm done. His hands slip around to my thighs, where he grabs my dress and commands, "Lift." I do so without pause before he pulls my dress off over my head, leaving me fully exposed in nothing but my white lace thong. His dark eyes hungrily drag down my body before zeroing in on my breasts. "Still wearing my mark." His lips suction around one of my nipples, and he swirls his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a nip. "Fucking perfect," he growls as he moves to the other.
"Mmm," I groan as he takes their weight in his hands and pushes them together. The way he nips and sucks my breasts is intoxicating. I love the feel of his beard against my skin, knowing it will leave my milky skin deliciously chafed with reminders of where he's been.
Releasing my nipple with a pop, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses up my chest. "Do I need to warm you up again?" His forefinger drags down my stomach, making me clench in anticipation for where it's about to travel. He teasingly plays with the band of my panties before ripping them off, the sting momentarily registering before his digits are running through my wet lips. "So damn wet… fuck," he draws out. "I don't know what I want to do first. Watch you bounce up and down on my dick in this chair or lay you out on this desk and eat that pretty pussy."
His fingers dip inside of me, causing my breath to hitch. I push back down on them and reach for the button on his pants. "I want to ride you," I say as I rock against his fingers and pull him out.
Those dark pools dilate as I pull him out and stroke his silky length. "Take me how you want me. It's yours."
"Mine?" I raise a brow in question.
"Yours," he agrees, his eyes holding mine, confirming the double meaning behind my ask. He's mine. I plant my feet on the floor and lift off his fingers before bringing his tip to my entrance. Even his head is thick. I can count on one hand the number of guys I've been with, but Everett is by far the biggest. Every time, it takes me a minute to adjust to his size. I grip his shoulders and slowly start to lower myself down. I get why men enjoy watching their cock disappear. It's hot as fuck watching my body stretch around him. When I look up, his eyes meet mine. "You're so beautiful." His words of praise have me taking another inch. "Do you want to know something?"
I lick my lips. "You know I do."
"This is one of my fantasies."
"I'm one of your fantasies?" I rise up and slowly lower myself back down.
"No, you're a dream come true. It's always been a fantasy to fuck in my office. Never in a million years did I think it would happen with my dream girl." Those words have me bottoming out. We both groan in unison. He is so damn deep. He's had me in a lot of positions, but this one is new. Crushing his lips to mine, he kisses me hard before slapping my ass. "Ride me, sunshine." When I go to push up, the position is too awkward. I can't ride him in the chair. I'm too short. Instead, I pull all the way off and he groans. "What are you doing?"
"I'm too short," I say as I lift my leg to turn around.
"I can lower the chair." I hear the chair's hydraulics as he pulls the lever, immediately accommodating my height.
"You're an ass, man, aren't you?" I ask as I back up to ride him reverse cowgirl style.
"I'm a you man," he answers as his hands find my hips. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he questions in jest as I align his cock with my entrance once more and slowly slide down his length. With my hands on the desk, I steady myself and spread my legs so I can watch him disappear inside of me once more. His cock glistens with my juices, and I clench hard at the sight. He might mark me with his teeth, but I know my scent will drive him crazy all day. In this new position, his tip hits my G-spot at a delicious new angle. I bottom out long and slow, letting it drag over the spot before riding him hard. He said this was a fantasy of his. You better believe I'm going to make it the best he's ever had and one he'll want to repeat. I start bouncing hard, and his hands dig into my hips. "Are you trying to make me come before you?" he grits. "Slow down, sunshine." But I can't. I'm already too far gone. His words, the sound of my arousal, all of it.
"I can't. It's too good. I'm coming," I pant as I chase my orgasm over the edge.
I'm suddenly on my back in one swift move as supplies tumble to the floor. Pulling me to the edge, he impales me on his cock as he wraps my legs around his neck. "Fuck," he hisses as my pussy contracts around him. "You're going to give me another one. I'm not done feeling you. I'll never be done." He starts pumping into me hard and fast, my tits bouncing as his balls slap against my pussy. I know he feels the second another orgasm starts to take root because his eyes lock onto mine. "That's it, sunshine, chase it, take what's yours. Milk me." This time when I fly high, he comes with me, a tremor racking his body as he falls on top of me.
We're a pile of sweat and sex as we lay there catching our breath. My hand instinctively curls into the hairs at the base of his neck, tenderly caressing him. I love him so damn much. I know I will never love anyone the way I love him, and I can't tell him. Those three words could ruin everything. His lips gently kiss my shoulder. "I might be yours, but you should know you're mine. I want to take you out tonight. Will you have dinner with me?"
"Out in public… me and you, like a date?"
He pulls back his eyes, finding mine. "Yeah, like a date."
"Okay," I squeak out. Maybe those three little words aren't as far off as they feel.