Chapter 15
Cam peeled off her cardigan as she followed Brooks inside Nash’s safe house. Citrus hung in the air, suggesting the floors had been freshly cleaned. The polished walnut floors confirmed her suspicions.
“This is nice,” Brooks said, striding down the hall to the combination kitchen and living room. The space was easily half the size of Nash and Lexi’s house, but cozier.
Fatigue pulled Cam into one of the chairs at the island, and she studied the smooth countertops. They’d spent hours at Nash and Lexi’s, the conversation finally becoming light after Brooks and Lexi finished their heart-to-heart. Cam ached to ask Brooks what had been said, but given the tension she’d felt in the living room when she and Nash had walked in, she figured it was probably best she let him tell her on his own time. She’d enjoyed getting to know Lexi and Nash. It’d been a long time since she’d been able to let her guard down around people. Even before Isaac had stolen the drugs, she’d been too caught up in his drama and making sure he didn’t make her mom’s life difficult to spend much time with friends or dating.
But Nash had the air of a man with secrets. Ones she wanted nothing to do with. His vow to help Brooks kill Conrad made her tremble. Lexi had been unsurprised by his declaration—what kind of family had she stumbled into?
It was evident they didn’t care she was wanted by the police. Which was a pretty good indicator that they had some skeletons in their closet.
A safe house. What the heck did that mean? Questions burned her tongue, but it wasn’t as if Brooks would know the answers. Even if all his memories came back, the fact remained that he’d only met Nash today. And anyway, as uneasy as that conversation had made her feel, Nash and Lexi had welcomed her with open arms and given Brooks a great deal of peace and contentment by helping him remember more about his past.
“You okay?” he asked, a wry grin pulling at his lips. “You look a little anxious.”
She tilted her head. “I should be asking if you’re okay.”
He lifted a shoulder and crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back against the counter. With the island in the middle, there was just too much space between them. At some point over the last few days, she’d gotten used to having him near. More than that, she craved the attention of his hands, and right now she wouldn’t get it with him way the heck over there.
“I’m fine.” The steadiness of his voice confirmed his statement. “It was a little weird seeing Lexi, though.” His gaze dropped to his feet as he dragged his toe over the hardwood floor. “I recognized her, but I had a hard time putting her face to some of the memories.”
She nodded. “That makes sense. It was a draining day, I’m sure.”
He sighed and glanced at the clock. “What do you want to do? It’s still early.”
“Nine is hardly early,” she said, chortling.
“Let’s find the bedrooms then.” He pushed away from the counter and she got up to follow him.
Bedrooms.Plural. Now they’d have no reason to share a bed. Except for the blistering fact that she wanted him next to her. Holding her. Inside her.
Crap.
The wide expanse of his shoulders and his tapered waist made her belly constrict. She ascended the stairs in his wake and pinched the bridge of her nose as she clung to the rail. She bumped into something hard—Brooks’s abdomen—and started. Firm hands gripped her shoulders, preventing her from teetering backward down the stairs.
Brooks stood on the stair above hers, which brought her nose to his midsection. Titling her head back, she took in the straight slash of his brow line.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because you were holding your nose like you were going to pass out.”
A deep tingle started in her loins and swept up her body at warp speed. Her cheeks buzzed. “I was thinking.”
His grasp on her shoulders loosened, and one hand dropped to catch her elbow. He assisted her up the rest of the stairs as if she were a ninety-year-old woman, making her confidence take a beating. They turned down the hallway, and Brooks flicked on the light of what had to be the master bedroom.
Warm gray tones decorated the room. A neatly made king-sized bed took up the center of the space. She walked forward and trailed her fingers over the duvet cover. “Is there a spare room?” she asked, not taking her attention off the thin white stripes on the material.
Out of the corner of her eye Brooks moved, closing in on her. His chest brushed against her shoulder, and her heart pitter-pattered.
“Is that what you want?” His direct tone made her lift her gaze.
His jaw was clenched. His eyes lit with desire. The stormy blues challenged her, almost begging her to make a move, as she’d done the night before.
Not a chance.
If he put sex on the table, she might just eat it up. But no way she was putting her ass out there again. She wet her lips at the image that thought brought to mind. Gosh, he’d be good in bed. She let her gaze roam over his body leisurely: Solid muscle confined behind cotton but not in the least bit concealed. A still-scruffy beard that promised to tickle every crevice of her body. Long fingers that would penetrate her and bring her to the brink of oblivion. Finally, she let her gaze drift over the bulge in his pants, so large that its constraint looked painful.
Sliding her tongue over her bottom lip and tasting her own urgency, she swept her gaze to his face. “No,” she whispered.
With his body so close she didn’t dare flinch. He’d either take her movement as a green light and strip her naked, or break contact. Indecision pulled her in opposite directions. If she was being honest with herself, it was the lack of contact she dreaded.
He weighed her carefully with his gaze. Lifting his hand, he brushed his knuckles over her shoulder and stopped at the curve of her neck. His fingers were light, barely touching, but so large they promised to do anything she asked for—and more.
“You’re okay with me sleeping in the bed with you?”
Shoot, shoot, shoot. Her mind whirled like she’d had too many shots of tequila. Did she want to share her bed with him? Heck yes. Did she want him to fuck her? Also, yes. But what was he asking?
“It’s an easy question.” His lips jumped on a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He danced his fingers down her spine. “For the record, I just mean sleep. Unless...” One eyebrow bounced, doing all kinds of swirly things to her stomach.
She pressed her hands against her abdomen as if doing so would stop the desire threatening to make her tackle his sexy ass to the bed. “I know what you meant.” She lifted a shoulder. “And yes. I’m okay with it. We slept together two nights in a row anyway.”
Humor danced in his eyes, and his slanted cheeks pulled back. Her pulse beat against her throat. God, he had the most mouth-watering smile. She rolled her toes into the carpet to stop herself from rising up and kissing him.
He took a step back and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Awesome. I’m going to jump in the shower before bed.” He lifted the material over his head and dropped it on the floor.
She glued her gaze to the impressive map of tattoos covering his chest and midsection. Dark ink broke up his tanned skin, which covered hard-worked muscle. He was like a fine piece of art waiting to add her to his canvas.
He brought his fingers to the button on his jeans and loosened it. “You can join if you want.”
She spun on her heel and bumped clumsily into the bed. “Uh. No. I’m good, thanks.”
Brooks’s chortle reached her ears, and heat scorched the back of her neck. He was toying with her.
She kept her chin tucked as he sauntered off to the bathroom. She was getting too caught up. Just last night he’d warned her that he was afraid to hurt her. Which should have scared the shit out of her, but no. Her twisted libido went into overdrive, and it thrilled the crap out of her.
The water turned on in the master bathroom. She glanced at the door. He hadn’t shut it all the way. An open invitation? She scooped her phone from her bag, and it vibrated with a new message. She needed to check in with her mom, but she so couldn’t do that right now. Not when she’d ask a dozen questions about Brooks. A tingle of worry touched her spine. Her mom hadn’t called for a full twenty-four hours, which was highly unusual. But she should have expected that, given their last phone call. Linda often backed off when she was angry, and seeing Cam’s face all over the news without a full explanation would have driven her into a frenzy.
She pushed all thoughts of her mom from her mind. Tomorrow she’d handle it. Today, she needed to get to sleep before she did something she’d regret. She opened the text message. It was from Lexi, who’d insisted they all trade numbers for emergencies.
Hope you guys like the place. I have some clothes and toiletries there. Feel free to use whatever you need.
Cam smiled and typed back her thanks. Since meeting his family, it was hard not to see Brooks in a different light. It almost normalized him. He wasn’t just a badass rebel looking for revenge. He had a past and a heart, and if she stuck around longer, it’d be really hard to part with him when all this was over—or when he ended up in jail for murder.
She rolled her eyes skyward. Another dang reason not to get involved. No way she’d wait while Brooks did twenty-five to life.
Sifting through the bottom of her bag, she found a pale pink cami tank and boy short panties. Two could play his game. She removed her clothes and pulled the tank on, then stepped into the white underwear. Turning to the full-length mirror on the wall, she immediately brought her fingers to her ratty hair. She really should have opted for that shower.
Only not with Brooks. No. That wouldn’t be good.
She finger-combed the knots from her hair—something to worry about tomorrow. Her nipples poked through the thin fabric, and the boy shorts left little to the imagination. The shower shut off and her belly tightened.
Digging through her bag, she pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste. The bathroom door creaked open and Brooks padded out, his hips swathed by a charcoal-colored towel. Droplets of water coated his chest. He stopped in his tracks. His gaze went from her legs, to her stomach, to her constricted nipples before finally reaching her face. A muscle in his jaw flexed.
She approached the bathroom. He didn’t move. Her pulse slowed as she entered his personal space. His hands didn’t reach for her even though his eyes burned with carnal desire.
“S’cuse me.” She rounded his body, entered the bathroom, and shut the door with a click.
Tension radiated up and down her body. She grabbed the vanity for support. She was playing with fire. Tempting an already lust-filled man to... what? She couldn’t strut around in clothes like this, sleep in bed next to him, kiss him randomly, and expect him not to want her.
Only he didn’t.
He hadn’t made a move. Just teased. If he wanted to bang her, she’d already be panting beneath him—that was a given. No, Brooks didn’t want her like she wanted him. He didn’t get turned on by her every touch, didn’t heat with desire and want her to do insanely good things to his body.
She wet her toothbrush.
She wasn’t going to get laid by Brooks or anyone else any time soon. Once he was asleep, she’d take care of her own needs—again. And maybe then she’d get through this ordeal without embarrassing herself further.
***
Fucking little vixen.
He shuffled in the bed. She acted all doe-eyed and innocent then kissed him and practically made him beg to sleep in bed with her... Shit, who was he kidding? He’d been seconds away from dropping to his knees and saying pretty please.
Pathetic.
Then she walked around with a sheer piece of fabric over her full, fuckable tits. Jesus. On top of that, she knew he had a hard time with control. Maybe she wanted him. Maybe she was messing with him. Maybe he just needed to suck up his fear and dive right in.
Learning more about his past had given him some reassurance. Seeing pictures of himself growing up with Lexi in his childhood home with his parents... he’d been loved. Deep down, he’d feared he’d been raised to be a monster and that was why he’d blocked out his past—and why the drug had made it so easy for him to hurt people.
But that wasn’t so.
Lexi had assured him he’d never hurt a fly. As soon as he’d smelled that something wasn’t right with Lionsgate, he’d risked his life to right the wrongs. She’d painted him as a saint, and although he wasn’t falling for that, he could concede that he wasn’t a monster.
But could he handle sex without going overboard? He’d knock himself out to protect her if he got too rough. But did Cam want him? Her kiss the previous night told him she did. Unless it’d been an impulsive act of pity.
Nah. She wouldn’t have chosen to wear that outfit to bed if she didn’t want him.
The bathroom door opened and the light clicked off. Darkness hung over the room. His eyes fought to adjust to the change and caught Cam’s outline moving softly to the bed. The rustle of covers came next, and her slim leg bumped his. He slept only in his briefs and wouldn’t apologize for it. He’d deliberately taken up more of the bed than necessary just so he’d be closer to her.
She flopped onto her side, her back to him. “’Night,” she said on a dainty sigh.
The sweet, fruity scent of her shampoo mixed with the feminine scent of her skin floated his way. His cock hardened in his briefs, stretching the material. Every atom in his body ached, begging for him to obtain the release he desperately needed. He turned on his side, facing her back. Moonlight streamed in through the window and touched the blonde hair spread on the pillowcase. The line of her neck coasted down to her shoulder, where the blanket touched her skin.
Fierce desire overtook him.
He brought his hand to her hip underneath the covers. She didn’t flinch, but awareness sizzled the air. He stroked his thumb over the satiny skin that separated the top of her panties from the bottom of her tank top. Each sweep made his core rev.
Her hips wiggled, spurring him on. He inched closer and stretched his arm over her head. “Are you awake?”
Slowly, she turned so her gaze met his. “Kind of hard to sleep.” A playful note pulled at her words.
He brought his free hand to her cheek. His other hand rested just above her pelvis. He’d fit nicely inside. Pushing himself up on to his elbow, he stared at the shaft of light that caught her pale skin. Round eyes watched him with caution. Her bright-white teeth nipped at her bottom lip. Lowering his mouth, he touched his lips to hers. Her hand went to his throat, toying with the now-neat scruff of beard. He delved his tongue between her teeth, and her abdomen spasmed beneath his hand.
Her taste filled his mouth, warm and minty. Her slickness coated his tongue, driving his lust through the roof. He kept his hand on her flesh, anchoring him to her for stability. He couldn’t lose himself. Couldn’t get so caught up in his own need that he lost control. But he had to explore her tantalizing landscape.
Sliding his hand under her shirt, he cupped her breast in his palm. Her tongue moved against his, and a soft moan broke through her mouth. Heat singed his spine, and sweat beaded between his shoulder blades with the effort it took to rein himself in.
As he brushed his thumb over her nipple she jolted, and a sharp cry left her throat. He kissed her now-plump lips then moved the material of her tank aside so he could bring his mouth to her taut little nub. The hard, slightly wrinkled sweetness filled a deep yearning as she gasped beneath him.
“Ah, my god,” she panted.
Jesus. “We haven’t even gotten started, babe.” After pressing a kiss to her tit, he went to the other, leisurely licking and sucking. His fingertips grazed the three-inch-long scar, and he bit back a growl. Damn, he hated that she’d been hurt. He moved his mouth to press a kiss on the mark then returned his attention to her nipple. She gripped his shoulders, hanging on for dear life.
Slowly, he kissed his way up her chest to her neck and over her cheek. More than anything he wanted to be inside her, but the tapping of blood against his temples told him he needed to move slowly. He placed one firm kiss to her lips then turned her over to face the wall.
“What are you doing?” she gasped. The anticipation in her voice was spliced with a niggle of disappointment.
Her knees lay stacked on top of each other. Pushing the leg that was on top, he forced her to bend her knee. “Testing the waters,” he grumbled.
If he could savor touching her without going off the deep end, he’d know he had enough discipline to go easy during sex. He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh and moved the material of her underwear out of the way. Trailing his fingers over the perfect shape of her ass cheek, he sought her smooth crevice with his fingertips.
She jerked, and another sharp cry escaped her lips. Satisfaction rippled over him. Joining his index and middle fingers, he stroked over her folds, spreading her slick heat. Her rapid breaths broke through the air as he inserted two fingers inside her. The small of her back arched, and her ass shot toward his dick. His head swam. Her slick cushions constricted on his fingers, begging to be fucked. Closing his eyes, he took one steadying breath, but the scent of her sex, so sweet and tempting, filled his nostrils.
“Ah. More, Brooks.” Her needy pants made his cock twitch.
Nuzzling her neck with his beard, he pushed deeper. Her fingernails caught his wrist, which lay above her head, and the sensation drove him wild. Turning his mouth into her pillowy softness, he kissed and sucked beneath her ear. Cam jerked forward, but his fingers anchored her to the bed.
Her hips pressed back against him, and her legs widened while he fingered her. Adjusting his hand, he brought his thumb to her clit. As he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the small pearl, she cried out. Her body spasmed, and the walls of her vagina squeezed his fingers so tight he lost feeling in his hand. Her juices flowed over his knuckles and her body slowly stopped bucking. He continued a steady rhythm, in and out, in and out, until her pulsing stopped. Pressing another kiss to her neck, he slid his hand out from between her legs. Cam didn’t move.
The beating of his heart slowed to an almost tolerable pace. Desire as thick as tar filled his psyche. He’d done it. He’d gotten her off, and although it had almost killed him to hold back, he hadn’t ripped off her panties and fucked her senseless.
She tossed beside him on the bed. Her hands pressed into his chest as she rolled on top of him. “Your turn.”
Her lush little ass sat across his cock, making a million wild images take hold of his brain. None he could act on—at least not yet. Jesus, he hadn’t had sex since being taken captive. It felt as though there were a ferocious animal inside him that couldn’t be satisfied.
She rocked her hips back and forth. “Brooks?” Sliding her hands from his pecs to his shoulders, she leaned forward on top of him. The locks of her hair trailed over his arms, her breasts spilled out the front of her tank top, and the hem of her shirt rode up over her belly button, revealing the indent of her navel, partially hidden in the shadows.
When the hell had a belly button ever turned him on?
I’m losing it.
He caught her hips in his palms with the full intention of tossing her to the side, only he couldn’t.
She brought her lips next to his ear. “I want you.” Her raspy breath made his blood pressure skyrocket.
He clamped his fingers onto her hipbones to stop himself from rolling on top of her. Her fingers went to his hair, stroking the strands above his ear. “You don’t want me?”
Like fuck he didn’t.
“Of course I do.” The statement fell off his tongue before he could contain it.
“You think you’re going to hurt me?” Her fingers kept moving, soothing him and touching his heart. He closed his eyes, letting the gentle scrape of her nails on his scalp push away his fears. Stupid that he could be so easily tamed, like a dog. But at the same time, he reveled in her touch.
“You don’t sound too concerned about that.”
Her ass shifted so it was on his cock again, and a groan sounded from the back of his throat. She was going to kill him.
“You haven’t hurt me yet. Why would you now?”
“Because I don’t know what that drug did to me. Don’t know if I can stop myself...”
She let out a soft chortle. “I hope once we start you don’t want to stop.”
“It’s not that.”
“Brooks?”
He rubbed his fingers along the hem of her underwear, inching up. God how he needed her... more than his next breath. She kissed his cheek, then his lips, her fingers smoothing over the scruff of his beard as she shimmied between his legs. His body ached at her absence. He was screwing everything up. He might not get this chance with Cam again.
She snagged the waistband of his shorts and tugged the material down, freeing his cock. Her small hand closed around his flesh, and he clenched his teeth as her hand moved up and down leisurely. Dipping his chin, he took in her slight frame kneeling between his legs. Her eyes caught the moonlight, the color hard to discern but the intensity branding. She lowered her face, and her fair fell forward to dangle beside her cheeks while her lips touched his knob.
“Ah, Christ,” he wheezed. Her hot mouth enclosed the top of his manhood. Her tongue flicked in gentle circles while her hand jerked him off.
He caught the comforter in one hand, and his other went to the back of her head, following her movements. Pleasure arced through him, spreading from his core to his toes and back up. Heat swirled in his chest as his balls clenched, preparing for release. Her teeth nicked the head of his penis, sending a thrill of pain and pleasure racing over his nerve endings. She tightened her fingers as his muscles bunched into tight mounds.
He closed his eyes as his ecstasy climbed higher and higher, threatening to send him into oblivion. She sucked on his head while pumping her fist rapidly, and his release gushed out of him.
“Ahh,” he breathed. His body convulsed, riding the waves of his orgasm as she squeezed every drop from his cock. “Fuck, Cam.” Slowly, the pulsing became less frantic and his senses frazzled back into focus. The bed shifted, and Cam lay on his chest.
Jesus Christ. She’d just rocked his fucking world.
Letting her go after this would be next to impossible... and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.