Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
CAMDEN
Moving in with Savannah is like having a sleepover every night with my best friend. The best friend I fuck. It’s fantastic.
Every day for the last two weeks, I’ve made a point to get my ass home as quickly as I can.
It didn’t matter where I was. Work? It can fucking wait.
The guys? I’ve been hanging out with their old asses for years.
I can handle a little time apart. Even hockey games don’t hold the same appeal.
If I didn’t have to scout so many damn high school and college games, I think I could be perfectly content not watching another hockey game for the rest of the season.
I need at least that long to get fully acquainted with every one of Savannah’s curves. Her every sound and smile.
I’m happy. In a way I never knew was possible. Sure, I witnessed my friends fall in love, one after another. I watched them trip all over themselves when their women were close by. I didn’t get it then. I’m a sucker now.
“Baby girl,” I call as I throw the door open. Damn, I’m already aching for her.
“In the kitchen.”
I toss my jacket on the couch, knowing she’ll tease me about not hanging it up later.
I’ve discovered how fun it is to reprimand her for the mess she makes in the bathroom each morning, so it’ll be well deserved.
I love the sight of every open lipstick and spilled eyeshadow because my once barren bathroom is now full of life.
But I love spanking her for being messy even more.
As I enter the kitchen, tugging on my tie, I find Savannah bent over the open oven, wearing nothing but a tiny little tease of an apron. With her folded in half like this, ass in the air, her pink pussy taunts me, making my mouth water. Making me swell with need.
“Hungry?” she coos, swaying from side to side, giving me a show.
“Savannah,” I warn as I stomp up behind her and caress one cheek. “What if I’d asked one of the guys to come over for dinner, and we walked in and found you looking like a little slut?”
She stands, closing the oven, and turns around, a sexy smile on her face. “Guess you’d have to punish me.”
“Problem is you like the punishments.”
She breaks into a sexy little pout. “Seems like a you problem, then, huh?”
Chuckling, I dip low and kiss her. It’s messy and rough, one hand buried in her long red hair and the other squeezing her bare ass.
“Dinner almost ready?” I ask. “Or do we have some time?”
She smiles against my mouth. “We have some time.”
“Good.” I scoop her up and carry her into the living room. Settled on the couch, with her legs straddling me, she’s the most gorgeous sight.
“Missed you today,” she says, her hands on my chest.
Distracted by the way her nipples poke against the fabric of her apron and the way her tits spill from the top and the sides, I reach around her neck and untie the strings there.
Then I lift her tits so I can see my name inked on her bra line on the left side.
My name on her skin like this makes me feral.
It’s taking everything in me not to demand we go down to city hall and make it official.
I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck hard, and in response, she grinds against my lap, moaning.
“I always miss you. And I love coming home to you like this.” I swipe a thumb over her other nipple, then tug on it. “But make sure I don’t on Wednesday.”
Savannah pulls back, her muscles tensing. “Why?”
I grin. “Because my sister is coming to visit.”
Eyes widening, she tries to scurry off my lap.
I grip her hips, keeping her where she is. “She’s not coming now,” I promise with a huff of a laugh. “She’s fucking seven hundred miles away. You’ve got time to get dressed first.”
She smacks my chest with an annoyed sigh.
I grasp her wrist and kiss the inside of it. “What?”
“When were you going to tell me she was coming?”
My lips twitch, even as I try to hold back a smirk. “Now. She called when I was driving home.”
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, the emerald color dulling. “Do you want me to go back to my place? I don’t mind if you want alone time with her.”
Growling, I clutch her to my chest and lean back. “Baby girl, this is your place. Our place. And she’s coming because she wants to spend time with you.”
A shy smile spreads across her face. “Really?”
“Yes. That, and she has a few classes to teach.”
“Classes?”
“Yeah, the poles in the basement. She instructs pole dancing classes down there.”
A laugh sputters past her lips. “What?”
“My sister is a sex therapist. She helps women take back their sexuality after abuse or heartbreak. She’s very passionate about it.”
She splays her hands over my bare chest. “And here I thought you were the ultimate playboy with a bunch of stripper poles in your basement. But really, you’re just a caring brother.”
I stroke her hair. “You are painting me as entirely too good of a guy.”
A smirk plays at her lips. “Let me guess; you’ve fucked a few of her clients.”
I snort. “You barely sound jealous.”
“Like you were jealous when I told you about my past.” She cocks a brow.
I cup her ass and squeeze. “Just because I gave you orgasms, baby girl, doesn’t mean I wasn’t jealous. I hate thinking of you with anyone else. I know you’re open to sharing, but I don’t know if I could now that I have you.”
Just the idea makes my chest tighten. I’ve had friends who were into that, and in theory, it’s hot, but now I can’t imagine someone else touching her.
“That’s the beauty of this, baby,” she says, her tone soft. “It’s your decision whether or not we share. Because I’m yours.”
I study her, memorizing each freckle, still amazed that she really is mine. “I love you.”
Her face softens, the sexy, taunting seductress fading away.
I love that side of her so much, but I love this expression even more.
Because like this, she isn’t putting on a show.
There’s no artifice. She’s just this beautiful girl who feels safe opening up for only me.
“I love you.” She nibbles on her lip, her focus lowering. “Can I ask you something?”
I hum. “You want to know why my sister took off, don’t you?”
And awkward laugh escapes her. “How’d you know?”
“Figured it was only a matter of time before you asked.” I twirl a strand of her hair, watching the way the many beautiful shades of red blend together.
I hate telling this story. But if anyone needs to hear it, it’s Savannah. I want to spend my life with her, so there can’t be any secrets between us. At least not big ones like this.
She shifts off my lap and pulls a white chenille blanket off the back of the couch. It’s one she brought from her place, a simple, cozy piece. She settles under my arm, putting herself in a position where I won’t be forced to look at her as I speak.
My heart pangs. I appreciate her thoughtfulness, but it’s completely unnecessary. I can barely go a few seconds without glancing her way. She’s too pretty, and as much as it hurts to talk about this, opening up to her doesn’t feel so awful.
“My sister and I were extremely close growing up,” I start. “We shared a lot of the same friends. We’re twins. I’m not sure I’ve mentioned that before.”
Savannah shakes her head, giving me an encouraging smile.
“I played hockey. She was a figure skater.” I shrug. “We basically lived at the arena, and since hockey is nonstop, she spent a lot of time watching me play, and our family traveled for games pretty often. In high school, she dated one of my best friends. He and I played hockey together.”
I smile, though the expression isn’t a happy one. More ironic.
“My teammates always gave me shit about it because I didn’t mind. I loved that my sister was dating my best friend. He was a good guy, you know? Or at least I thought he was. So why wouldn’t I want my sister to date him?”
She peers up at me, her teeth sunken into her lip. “I’m guessing he wasn’t as great as you thought?”
I curl a piece of her hair around my finger, focusing on the movement. “No. Turns out he just liked attention, and when he got it from my girlfriend, he was all too happy to forget that Cora was his.”
Savannah’s jaw drops open.
“It gets worse,” I warn her. “She wasn’t just my girlfriend. She was my sister’s best friend. His girlfriend’s best friend. The four of us were as close as people can get.”
“Camden.” Savannah shakes her head, frowning, like she doesn’t know what to say.
Of course she doesn’t. She would never do something like that. It was the definition of fucked up, and she’s good and kind. She’d never do that to a friend.
“I caught them at his house. We made plans to hang out after practice, but he must have forgotten. When I got there, I walked in on the two of them butt-ass naked, fucking in his bed.”
Sav drops her head back against the cushion and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Yeah.” I huff out an irritated breath. “I was fucking hurt and angry. I didn’t know what the fuck to do, and in the end, I did the wrong thing.”
To this day I don’t know why I didn’t tell my sister. When I found out, I went silent. I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I didn’t want to hurt Cora. And it was easier to ignore it all. We were in the middle of hockey finals, and while I couldn’t look at Jeremy, I couldn’t not play.
“What did you do?” Savannah asks softly, bringing me back to the present.
“I didn’t tell my sister. I—” I squeeze her hair in my fist but relax it when I realize I’m tugging a little too hard.
“I broke up with my girlfriend, and at practice, I couldn’t look at my best friend.
Couldn’t talk to him. But otherwise, I acted like everything was okay.
I just…” I shrug. “Pretended it didn’t happen.
I focused on hockey and ignored everyone.
Started drinking a lot, fucking around with other girls.
Anything to bury the hurt of their betrayal. ”
Savannah presses her hand to my cheek. “You were just a kid.”
“She got pregnant,” I breathe. “My ex-girlfriend.” I frown.
“So yeah, I’m not the kid in this mess. The baby was.
And my sister was the victim of it all too.
Because when rumors of her pregnancy got out, my ex swore the baby was mine.
She didn’t want to ruin her friendship with Cora, and I guess Jeremy had no interest in being a father.
I don’t know. So she told her the baby was mine and that I wasn’t stepping up to help. ”
“That bitch,” Savannah mutters.
I chuff out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. My sister was so angry. We’d never fought before, but she called me every name under the sun.
She caught me when I was drunk. It wasn’t hard to do.
I was always drunk back then. I lashed out and told her the truth.
And right there in front of me, the fight left her and her heart shattered. I did that to her.”
“No,” Savannah says fiercely, grabbing my face again. “They did it to her.”
“Yeah.” I huff. “Well, I was no hero in this story. My sister took off.” I close my eyes, finding the image of my parents that day waiting for me.
We searched everywhere, with no luck. They were devastated. It took a couple of days before the letter came. She wrote that she was safe but that she needed to get away.
“We lived in Vegas, so you can imagine the kind of people she got caught up with. The life she led for years after that.” My gut twists into a painful knot. “The things she was forced to do.”
Cora hasn’t opened up about much that happened during that time, but I’ve sat in on some of her pole dancing sessions. The way she speaks makes it clear she’s experienced the kind of abuse she treats.
“Anyway, that’s why she ran away. She couldn’t face the pregnancy and the lies and betrayal. But she put herself back together. She put herself through school and got her damn master’s degree, and now she’s dedicated her life to helping people.”
Savannah sighs. “That’s incredible.”
I nod.
Her hand is on my cheek again, her skin warm, her touch gentle. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“I’m not,” I say honestly. “I probably would have married that girl. And I’d probably still be friends with that asshole. Had I not caught them, she would have passed the baby off as mine, and I probably would have married her and been stuck with her for life.”
I squeeze my eyes shut again. Just thinking about Tara makes my blood pressure rise. I despise the woman for everything she was and everything I imagine she still is.
“I played one season in Vegas. Long time ago. And I saw her and her daughter one night. The little girl couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven.
And they were in a bar.” Frustration and pity—for the girl, not Tara—swirl in my gut.
“I should have done something. I could see her daughter didn’t want to be there.
Her expression was so sad. She looked so lonely.
She was parked at a table, playing with this doll with pink hair. I can still picture it.”
Savannah tenses in my arms.
Shit. We haven’t talked much about her childhood, but from the bits and pieces I’ve discovered, it probably wasn’t a whole lot different. Her mom probably wasn’t much better than Tara.
“Anyway.” I sigh. “Instead of stepping in, I walked away. Left her there in the bar while her mom flirted with a man nearby, ignoring her completely. I went straight to another bar and got drunk. Called Daniel that night and said some awful shit to him. I’m lucky he still talks to me after that.”
I blow out a breath and stroke her hair, comforting myself.
She’s gone still. Fuck.
I cup her cheek and force her to look at me. I was an asshole back then. What I did wasn’t right. But I’m not that person anymore, and I fucking hope she can see that.
“It’s better for the girl that I wasn’t her father. I was a disaster. Took me a long time to get my shit together. But I’m okay now—finally—because I have you.”