Chapter 8 Camden
EIGHT
CAMDEN
The woman on my lap shifts and rests against my chest with a sigh. It’s mind-boggling how perfect she is. And I almost screwed it all up by being vulnerable.
I blame Cora for that. She’s been complaining for years that I never open up, and here I am, dangerously close to telling my whole sad life story to a woman I just met.
I don’t think anyone’s ever loved me, period.
I wasn’t the only one who opened up. Though it’s no consolation.
If anything, her truth made my heart ache more painfully.
How could someone like Savannah exist and not know love?
That gnawing question makes me almost delusional enough to believe that I could be good for her. That I could be worthy.
Almost. Because when I push away the longing and cling to good sense, I realize how ridiculous it is. Loving means being vulnerable, and I don’t know the first thing about being vulnerable. Nor do I want to.
Hannah appears at the bottom of the steps, her brows arching when she notices Savannah on my lap. When she smiles like she approves, my hackles rise. It shouldn’t bother me. I want her to approve of Savannah. I want to win the bet.
And yet that thought feels all wrong.
I don’t think anyone’s ever loved me, period.
The words call to something deeper inside me. Tempting me to try to fill a role I never have before. One that isn’t selfish.
Daniel appears behind Hannah, and she leans back, whispering in his ear. He scans the room, and when his attention snags on us, I have to hold back a growl.
“You okay?” Savannah murmurs.
I rub the soft skin on the inside of her knee, hoping to soothe her in the same way her soft voice soothes me. “I’m perfect. Do you need anything else?”
She smiles up at me, her expression filled with far more trust than I deserve. “Nope.”
Fuck. I want to kiss her. I tuck my chin and brush my nose against hers, but before our lips meet, the music shifts, the beat sultry, the lights dimming further.
The show is about to begin.
I nod toward the pole positioned in front of us as a woman leans up against it, her hip tilted out, both hands above her, one wrist on top of the other.
This isn’t meant to be like a strip club. These dancers are here to perform a tastefully seductive show. The moment the woman only a few feet away starts to move, undulating her hips in time with every other dancer in the room in choreographed precision, Savannah gasps.
“They’re amazing,” she whispers, the green of her irises dark as she watches, rapt.
I don’t give the dancers even an ounce of my attention unless Savannah points out a move. They don’t hold a candle to her.
Within minutes, she squirms on top of me, like she’s turned on.
There’s no hiding how hard I am, and I know she can feel it. With every second that passes, she gets a little more daring, rolling her hips and sinking deeper against me.
I’m not the only one who notices, either. The dancer closest to us locks eyes with Savannah and drags her hand down between her bare breasts, showing her just how much she’s enjoying the attention.
Maksim Loob and Bobby Dean, two of our best players, are sitting across the room, watching the dancer from the opposite angle, though their eyes drift to Savannah far more often than I like.
Normally I’d have my hand up her skirt. I have a healthy sexual appetite, and I don’t mind being watched.
Don’t mind sharing either. But with Savannah, I’m consumed by this hot, desperate need to protect her.
I want to cover her up. Hide her from all the prying eyes.
So when the dancer drops to her knees and crawls slowly toward us, I press a kiss to the pulse point below her ear.
“Don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. ”
Her pulse races and I swear she whimpers. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
The dancer kneels at our feet, focus fixed on Savannah, her bare chest heaving and lust in her eyes. “May I touch you?”
Savannah’s nod is quick and harsh. Maybe a little overeager.
The woman settles her palm on Savannah’s bare knee beside mine. “Would you like a lap dance?”
Savannah tilts her head in my direction, like she’s seeking permission.
The power that rumbles through me in response makes me feel fucking invincible. “Whatever you want, baby girl.”
Green eyes dilating, she hums. Then she settles against my chest and inhales deeply.
The woman stands and straddles our laps.
I shift my thighs closer together beneath Savannah, the idea of touching another woman making my stomach roll.
I only want to touch the gorgeous girl on top of me.
It’s the oddest sensation, and for the moment, I don’t have the mental capacity to consider the reason behind it.
When the woman splays a hand over my chest, balancing herself, that unease grows. But before I can react, Savannah does.
“Only me.” Her tone is sharp, a brow arched as she gently grasps the woman’s wrist and positions her hand on her shoulder.
My chest swells, along with my dick. “Good girl,” I murmur in her ear.
Fuck me. If this woman is feeling as possessive over me as I am her, I don’t know that I’ll survive the night.
She glances back at me, warning in her gaze. “And your hands stay on me.”
Smirking, I shift and splay my hands on her bare thighs, pulling them a little farther apart, giving the dancer a better seat as well.
I can’t even begin to describe the sensation that washes over me when the dancer moves against the woman on my lap.
The sounds that rip from Savannah’s throat are sexier than anything I’ve ever heard.
I’m entranced. We’re in a crowded room, and my guests are no doubt watching, but I can’t focus on a single thing other than the way Savannah’s lips fall open as the dancer swivels her hips.
Holy fuck. I’m trapped beneath Savannah, getting zero attention myself, and I swear to god I could come like this.
“You’re so good at this,” the dancer murmurs, making me think she isn’t just putting on a show. She arches back and her nipples point toward the ceiling.
The guys in the crowd holler and whistle. Shouting about how lucky I am. But I can’t even look up to smirk.
“Have you ever danced?” she asks.
“Yes,” Savannah answers in the sultriest of ways.
“Then I need to see you up on that pole.” The dancer bends over backward and flips off my girl’s lap.
Immediately, I tighten my thighs, pulling Savannah’s legs together so no one sees up her dress.
As the dancer holds out a hand, mine tightens on Savannah’s hips. I don’t want to stop her if it’s what she wants, but fuck, I don’t think I could handle it if all these assholes watched her moving on the pole.
Savannah shakes her head, then glances back at me, her teeth sunken into her lip again. “Can’t tonight. Sorry, Daddy,” she teases in that sexy tone. “I didn’t wear any panties.”
Before the last word has left her lips, I’m lifting her and carrying her out of the room.
“What are you doing?” She squirms in my arms, trying to avoid flashing the crowd of people.
As if I’d let that fucking happen. I’m so fucking angry I can barely see straight, knowing that anyone might have seen her bare pussy while I let her play on my lap.
“What the hell were you thinking not wearing underwear?” I growl as I storm up the steps.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she hisses. “I wasn’t aware you were my actual father.”
There’s the fucking brat again. Fury and need tangle inside me, creating a strange sensation. Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this too much.
“I’m going to turn your ass so red there will be no question about it.” I charge through the back hallway to the next set of stairs, then through the doors of my private suite.
My hold on her is bruising by the time I approach the bed.
Savannah glares at me, eyes stormy. “Okay, this has been fun, but seriously, you can’t just lock me in your bedroom against my will.”
I toss her onto the mattress and step back, sucking in a deep breath and willing my heart rate to slow.
What am I doing?
She’s right. I barely know her, yet I’m losing my damn mind over her.
“You’re not locked in here. You’re welcome to go,” I say, turning away, fingers laced and hands on my head. My heart is still racing, my chest burning.
“That’s—” Her words stop abruptly, and the room falls silent.
I whip around and find her studying me, her expression curious rather than angry.
“That’s not what I want,” she says.
“Then what do you want?” I take a step back, making it clear that she’s in control.
The door is open and the music and voices from the party float around us.
Most of my friends, some of my family, and a ton of my players and colleagues are here for a holiday party.
Yet I couldn’t give a fuck. All that matters to me in this moment is the woman in front of me, the woman holding all the cards and my full attention.
“I just want to slow down for a second,” she says, like she doesn’t know what to think either. “And maybe a glass of wine,” she adds, a small smile finding her lips.
“How about we start with water? Then, in a little bit, if you’re still in the mood for wine, I’ll bring a bottle up.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Her voice is back to that teasing tone, her lips tipped up.
A sense of lightness floods me. Thank fuck.
I stride to the mini fridge and pluck out a bottle of water. When I turn around again, she’s settling back against my pillows, her legs tucked beneath the throw blanket that’s usually draped at the foot of the bed.
I can’t imagine that dress is comfortable, so after handing her the bottle of water, I pad into my closet and dig out a T-shirt and sweats. When I come back out with them, she tilts her head and frowns, her eyes full of confusion.
“Thought these might be more comfortable. They’re here if you want. But obviously, you’re more than welcome to go back down to the party if you prefer. Or sit here in that dress. You’re in charge here.”
Savannah shifts up onto her knees, and then without tearing her eyes off mine, she shimmies her dress up her thighs.
“Fuck,” I mutter, but I can’t tear my attention away from her body. With a heavy swallow, I force myself to say, “Want me to give you some privacy?”
“Please don’t,” she murmurs as she drags the dress up, exposing her bare pussy, her wide hips and creamy stomach, and fuck, those tits. I knew they’d be incredible.
She’s completely naked for mere seconds. I refuse to blink as she snags my white tee from the mattress and pulls it over her head. When she’s covered, the shirt falling to her mid-thigh, she sighs and plops back onto my bed, ignoring the sweatpants, and settles beneath the covers.
Her wild red hair fanned out over my shirt like that? I swear to god she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s better. Thank you,” she says, burrowing into the pillows.
I’m three feet from the bed, paralyzed. Pretty sure her naked body has been tattooed on my retinas.
“Can you sit with me?” she asks, her voice soft.
My legs move accordingly. They know who’s calling the shots here, and when I settle beside her, one leg still on the floor, she snuggles against me.
Cheek pressed to my chest, she peers up at me. “Will anyone come up here?”
I survey the wide-open door and shake my head. “No. But I can close the door if you’d be more comfortable.”
“Then will you lay with me?”
I smile. “Yeah, baby girl, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
She hums, the sound going straight to my dick. “That’s a dangerous promise.”
Chuckling, I press a kiss to the top of her head.
Then I ease her back onto the pillows and head for the door.
With a centering breath, I close it, keeping my back turned for an extra second.
Tonight has been fucking strange. Ten minutes ago, another woman was grinding on top of Savannah in a way that made me pretty confident an orgy was about to break out in my basement.
Now I’m toeing off my shoes and climbing into my bed, fully dressed, my only hope for the night that she lets me keep her in my arms.
The fuck is going on with me?
When I’m settled beside her, my back against the leather headboard, she nuzzles into my chest.
I let out a long exhale, and the heavy weight of anxiety I always carry leaves my body along with my breath.
She clutches my shirt, her own breathing steady. The room is nearly silent. The only sound the faint noises from the party. It should be awkward. I only met her an hour ago. And yet…it’s not.
In fact, the longer we sit, the more I relax. When she finally tilts her head up and assesses me, I’m completely at ease, until she utters four simple words: “Do you want kids?”