Chapter 13
Cam rested her palm against the wall of the shower. Water washed over her shoulders and chest and ran between her legs. She ran her fingers under the spray, washing away her slickness. The walls of her vagina throbbed, wanting more.
She turned off the taps abruptly. She should have known bringing herself to orgasm would pale in comparison to what she really needed—Brooks. Stepping out of the shower, she yanked a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her body. Steam cloaked the bathroom, making the air thick. Crap. In her hurry to wash away her embarrassment after throwing herself at Brooks, she’d forgotten her clothes in her bag. Brooks probably wasn’t back yet anyway.
She opened the door.
A black wall of chest blocked her vision. She slapped her hand to her throat and gasped, her body rising so high on her toes she almost levitated. “What are you doing?”
Brooks mouth slashed into a grim line. “Food’s ready.”
Her nerves hummed, falling into harmony with the strumming of need still infringing on her senses. “Why are you outside the door?” Jeez. Had he heard her moan?
“I was just about to knock.” He peeled his arm away from the doorframe above her head and skulked to the small dinette table pushed against the wall.
Two wrapped submarine sandwiches sat on napkins. “I just got you the same as mine.” He turned to face her, his thigh against the table. “You okay? Your cheeks are pink.”
She pushed her wet hair away from her forehead. “Fine. Just had a hot shower.” She took the last few steps to the bed, where her bag sat, stuffed full of both their clothes. She rifled inside, and new heat flamed her flesh.
When she’d put together her go-bag, packing lightly had been of utmost importance. She had one pair of clean pants, which she’d intended to save for tomorrow, and only an oversized sleep shirt for bed. Pulling out the shirt and clean underwear, she eyed the material in the bag. She hated to wear dirty pants, but sleeping next to Brooks without bottoms would be dangerous. Then again—
“Are you missing something?”
She glanced over her shoulder as Brooks sat in one of the small chairs at the table. He tented his fingers beneath his chin.
The sleep shirt was long—not like she’d be walking around in underwear and a tank top, which she normally wore to bed. “No, I’m fine.” She returned to the bathroom and quickly changed. One glance in the mirror showed she still wore the bandage on her chin. She yanked it off and winced. The cut felt tight, but was at last closed up. She hung up her towel, and came back out.
Brooks was unfolding the wrapper on his sandwich, but his gaze left his food to skim over the heather-gray hemline of her shirt, which rested several inches above her knees. She pulled out the other chair and sat.
Warm blue irises found her face. “Lose your pants?” Amusement slanted his grin. His gaze dropped to her braless breasts and fire singed her cheeks.
Given the room’s dim lighting and the loose fit of her sleep shirt, she’d expected most of her assets to be hidden, even without a bra. She’d been wrong. Her nipples tightened in response to his attention, and she pressed her knees together to keep the heat from pooling through her panties.
“It’s a nighty. I didn’t expect to share a room with someone when I packed my bag.” She opened the paper surrounding her sandwich. The scent of chicken and tzatziki sauce made her mouth water.
Brooks dove into his food as she bit into the soft, garlicky bread and tangy tomatoes. He’d picked a darn good sandwich. He chewed, took another bite, and then washed it down with a sip from one of the two bottles of water. “About that,” he said.
She lifted her eyebrows, more interested in filling her stomach than forming words at the moment.
He swiped his mouth with a napkin. “When did you pack that bag?”
She rubbed her ankles together. She’d already told him about Isaac, so there wasn’t much else to hide, but the fact that she’d been living in fear so long, and the lengths to which she’d gone to conceal her mom, get a gun, and other survival items, made her sound a little bit loony.
“When I got settled in Timber’s Terrain.” She sunk her fingertips deeper into the soft bread. “I never wanted to be in the position of scrambling to run again. I knew I could leave almost everything as long as I had that bag ready.”
He chomped three more bites of his sandwich, finishing it off, then sat back in his chair and dusted off his fingers. Swallowing, he stared at her. “You think he’d come all this way to find you?”
“I know he would,” she said, without missing a beat. “He lost his career because of me, did time inside, and was already filled with resentment before all that. He wants me dead.” She unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and sipped. The cold water rushed down her throat, cooling her from the inside but doing absolutely nothing to tame the desire that flowed over her flesh.
Brooks folded his arms across his chest. The movement made the muscles on his arms bulge, stretching the ink of his tattoos. She stared, transfixed by the symbols and lettering that was scattered all the way down to his knuckles. So hot.
Dangerous, Cam. Dangerous.
“Then I guess I’d better find him.”
Unease picked at her flesh. She hated what Isaac had done, but she didn’t wish death on him. More than anything, she wanted him to get his life on track, but the last few years had proved that wouldn’t happen. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
Brooks watched her with precision. She clenched her abdomen under his gaze. Even focusing on her eyes, he made her skin burn with desire. Had he not commented on her bare legs and glanced at her nipples, she’d hardly know he’d been affected by her. And maybe he wasn’t. He’d shot her down once, and she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to do it again.
“You’d rather live in fear the rest of your life? Have your mom tucked away in another state, where you can’t see her?”
Right. He was still talking about Isaac and her mind was battling the yearning in her body. She needed wine. Screwing the lid on the water bottle, she sat forward. “Of course not. But I also don’t want his death on my conscience. He’s my nephew, for god’s sake. He has his issues, but my sister loved him.”
“What’s your solution then?”
Ugh. Every time she looked at the long-term portion of her plan, she fumed. Sending Isaac to jail hadn’t helped the first time. He’d gotten a slap on the wrist and been released back into the population. “I hoped he’d get clean in jail.” She picked at the label on the plastic bottle with her thumbnail. “And that maybe, once he was clean, he wouldn’t hate me so much.”
Brooks settled his palm on her knee. The warmth of his skin sent torrents of heat through her body. Ah, it felt so darn good to be touched. She lifted her eyes to his face. “You saved your mom’s life,” he said. “That’s something to be proud of. But you need to know, if Isaac comes after you while I’m around, I ain’t holding back.” He peeled his hand from her flesh and stood. “It’s late. I need to get some rest.”
He picked up their garbage from the table and dumped it into the trash can then dug through her bag for his toiletries and went to the bathroom. The door clicked shut, and she swung her gaze to the bed in the center of the room.
It’s going to be a long night.
***
Brooks scrubbed hisface on the rough, overly bleached motel towel and then rubbed the material down his body. He’d used the beard trimmer, and although he still had scruff, it at least appeared manicured. The fact that he’d jerked off in the shower minutes after Cam had pleasured herself was sad as fuck. If he’d had bigger balls, he’d have run with her kiss earlier and made her pant with ecstasy. Instead, he’d left them both unsatisfied.
After jabbing his legs into his briefs, he hung up his towel. Cam hadn’t bought him pajamas on her trip to the store, and even if she had, he wasn’t the jamma-wearing type. He clicked off the bathroom light and strode to the bed. The lamp on his side of the bed was lit. Cam’s lithe body was shuffled over far enough on the opposite side of the bed that if he sat too hard, he’d probably fling her off. Moving the covers aside, he slid in next to her. A good two feet separated their flesh, but her scent already permeated the sheets.
He’d never get her lavender smell out of his head. Worst of all, he never wanted to. Not only did she remind him of all things feminine, but her aroma called to him. Touched a part of his senses he couldn’t identify and washed over his angst like refreshing rain.
She was good for him.
But he wasn’t for her.
Cam lay on her back, her gaze intent on the ceiling, as if she were watching TV. He propped his hands behind his head and focused on the yellow stain above them. “Whatchya watching?”
Her sharp laugh shook the bed. She turned her head to face him. The strain he’d caught on her features had fallen, and amusement danced in her eyes. “I was lost in thought.” She sharpened her gaze on his jaw. “You shaved.”
He ran his knuckles over the still-rough hairs. “Yeah, just a trim.”
“It looks good.”
He didn’t move his body other than to turn his cheek slightly so he could stare at the delicate lines of her face. “Want to share what you were thinking about?”
She tucked her chin and shook her head. “Nah. It’s late and I’m beat. Can you get the light?”
He rolled over and pulled the switch. Darkness fell around the room. He shifted his weight to his side, so he faced the center of the bed—and Cam. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and made out the outline of her face. So soft. So pretty. She stayed on her back. His hands ached to touch her. Shoot, every cell in his body vibrated with the need to move closer to her.
Gentle breaths broke from her lips. The rhythm was too controlled to suggest that she was sleeping. Desire scorched its way along his body, the impulse to grab and kiss her almost too great. Then she flipped over, turning away from him. A cavern of disappointment ate at his heart. As much as he wanted her sexually, he wanted something else from her too. Something she’d offered from day one and that had kept him alive this whole time—her presence.
“Brooks?” The low, tentative question made him snap his gaze to the satiny, wheat-colored strands at the back of her head.
“Mmm?” he asked, not daring to fully use his voice, afraid it would sound weak.
“Can you come closer? I’m cold.”
Satisfaction plucked along his nerve endings. He scooted closer, until his knees bumped the backs of her legs. He lifted his arm to snuggle it around her waist then froze. She’d asked him to keep her warm, not get all over her. Resting his hand on her hip, he moved his face so it was only inches from her neck.
Her fingers found his wrist, firm but gentle, and pulled his arm against her stomach. A great sense of relief broke through the dark cloud of pain that had threatened to pull him under minutes ago. He inhaled her sweet scent and closed his eyes. The smooth skin of her bare legs on his thighs made his head spin. Her body fit perfectly to his, her shoulders so slight that his body framed her. His hand ached to roam under the nightshirt she wore, but he forced his fingers flat against her ribs, inches from her breasts. The rapid beating of her heart tapped against his thumb, driving him wild.
She wiggled her hips, a content sigh falling from her lips. “G’night.”
“Mmm,” he said again.
Jesus. Being this close to Cam reduced him to primate talk. And the pathetic part was, he’d already whacked himself off and still needed her in ways he couldn’t have.
Not yet anyway.
When all this was over and he had a firm grip on his life, then maybe he could be the man Cam deserved. But not when he still had the traitorous drug ramping through his veins, not when his every breath depended on his getting revenge.
Pulling her close, he tucked his face into her hair and closed his eyes. Instead of the harsh darkness that normally pulled him under, it was her sweet presence that lulled him into a peaceful state.
***
A bright lighttouched Brooks’s cheeks. He squeezed his eyes against the sunlight escaping the cheap blinds and buried his face into the warm, soft body in his arms. Cam. His hand lay tucked under her side, his fingers just touched her hipbone. The delicate material of her panties rubbed against his pinky finger.
He was molded to her frame, making it evident that neither of them had budged all night—except for his stealth hand, which had a mind of its own. The hemline of her shirt bunched around her hip beneath his forearm. Aside from panties, she was naked from the waist down. His cock throbbed, threatening to split open if he didn’t do something fast to relieve the tension.
Cam stretched her legs, breaking the contact of his knees and her thighs. A cool draft washed over his skin in their absence. She turned in his arms, the movement bringing his palm to lie flat on her tummy.
“Hey,” she said softly. The light touched her makeup-free face. The green tones in her eyes were mixed with yellow and encircled in a ring of dark blue. Christ, she was gorgeous. Her dark lashes framed her almond-shaped eyes. Her skin was pale, but a rosy tint crawled up her neck.
“Morning,” he said, his voice gruff. If he were a gentleman, he’d have removed his hand and given her space, but right now, doing that would be equivalent to cutting off a limb. He propped his head up on his free hand and let his gaze roam lazily around her face. “You’re the prettiest sight I’ve ever woken up to.”
Her light laugh tinkled the air. She stretched, and her fingers tangled in the strands of her hair. He caught a lock and twirled it around his finger.
Her gaze went to the strand he toyed with, and a distant look appeared in her eyes. “I’m always surprised when I see my hair’s blonde.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “It’s not your natural color?” Now that she mentioned it, he could see the different shade at the roots. “It suits you.”
“Nope, my natural color is light brown.” Her gaze lowered. “I wanted a disguise.”
Anger flared inside him. Just the fact that she’d been on the run, hiding from someone and scared, was enough to set his nerves on edge. Getting upset about her past wouldn’t help. “You can always go back, but I like this, too.”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thanks. Did you sleep okay?”
His lips curved more than he intended. “Better than I have in a while.” He slid his thumb back and forth along the flesh above her belly button. Her muscles tightened, and goosebumps broke out on her skin beneath his palm.
Her hand lifted to his cheek then rested on his shoulder before coasting its way down the length of his arm. “I’m glad.” The throaty ring in her voice alerted him to her arousal.
Last night, he’d vowed to keep his hands off her until he settled his business with Conrad. But Jesus, Joseph, and Mary that would be next to impossible. Especially when she was here beside him, in need, all but demanding he touch her. He swallowed, and the sides of his throat met, reminding him that he needed water before he kissed her.
Ring, ring
Cam bolted up. The sheets pooled at her waist. She twisted to the nightstand, giving him a delicious view of her ass in black bikini panties. Lord, have mercy.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly. She turned to face him, and disappointment filled him as her butt sank out of his view. “Uh, yeah. That was me. He-he’s here.” Cam tilted the phone away from her lips. “It’s your sister,” she mouthed.
He sat up. Pressure built in his chest and rose to press against his temples. His sister.
“One sec.” Cam held out the phone, her hand trembling.
He accepted the device, his hands closing around the phone on their own will. A wall of protection slapped up around his heart. What if he was wrong? What if he’d made up the name and his sister didn’t exist and this was someone calling to set the record straight and convince him he’d entirely lost his mind?
He brought the phone to his ear and rolled to sit at the edge of the bed. Cam’s palm on his spine anchored him. “Hello?” The word rolled out slow, tentative.
“Oh my god,” a female voice squeaked. His mind immediately analyzed the words, searching for familiarity, but the woman’s sobs made it hard to discern. “Brooks? Is it really you?” This time, the words came out stronger. More determined.
An image of a dark-haired little girl flashed in his mind. Her plump arms reached for him, wanting him to pick her up. Then came an image of a defiant, sassy-pants teenager. Lexi. She had laughing blue eyes and a bright smile. This time, the image didn’t dissolve like cotton candy in water.
“Yeah, it’s me,” was all he could muster.
“Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you for eight and a half months. I can’t believe you’re calling me. I thought...” Her voice broke on another cry.
He stood, and a fierce protectiveness surged forward in him. “I’m okay. To be honest, I’ve lost a lot of my memory, but some of it’s coming back.”
“The woman who left me a voicemail—Camryn Royce? She’s all over the news. Is she holding you hostage?”
“No,” he ground out. “God, no. She saved my fucking life.”
A beat passed.
“Well,” she said, a sniffle following. “That’s all I need to know. You don’t need to worry. We’ve found each other now, and I won’t say anything about her to anyone. Where are you? Can I come get you?” Her take-charge manner synced with the images and vivid memories that filled his head. Lexi wasn’t one to sit on her ass. Nor was she the type of person to wait for instructions.
“We’re in Oregon. We can make it to your place later this afternoon,” he said, checking the digital clock on the nightstand: 10:14 a.m.
He grabbed a pen and a pad of paper from the drawer, and Lexi rattled off her address.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Brooks.” Lexi’s shaky voice pulled at his heartstrings. “Be careful, okay?”
“I will.” He disconnected and blew a breath through his lips. Various emotions channeled through his mind, too many to grab onto. Lexi’s voice morphed her image in his mind, but every time he focused on her features too hard, she vanished. She’d been stunned that he was alive, and just hearing her relief at the sound of his voice filled a hole in his heart.
He turned to Cam. She dropped to her haunches on the bed. The loose nighty or sleep-thing, whatever she’d called it, brushed the tops of her thighs. The fact that he’d slept plastered to her all night and hadn’t tugged her panties off and gotten inside her showed he had a lot more self-control than he’d thought.
Her gaze flitted down his body and settled on his dick. She swallowed. The smooth lines of her throat bobbed. Need spiraled inside him. She stepped off the bed. He curled his hands into the blanket to stop himself from pulling her back down to the mattress.
“I’ll get dressed. If we leave now, we can make good time.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
He dropped onto the bed and covered his cock with his hand. His neglected little buddy strained against the thin cotton. He needed to get a grip on his libido. They had a long day of driving ahead.