Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Cameron
My sister had been helping me to prepare for Rylee’s weekend visit.
Since she considered my house a soulless man-cave, she’d been sending me links to all this crap she thought I should buy, to ‘soften the space.’
I thought it was B.S., but wanted Rylee to feel comfortable, so I took Eden’s advice and bought everything she thought I should.
Candles, throw pillows, cozy blankets, bookshelves, rocking chairs for the porch. Even fresh flowers. And I had to admit; the place did look more inviting.
So, I didn’t know why the hell I was so nervous, as I waited to pick Rylee up from the airport Friday night.
I was waiting inside the terminal, near the pick-up gate when I spotted her.
She was wearing faded jeans, white running shoes, a black tank top, with a grey and black plaid shirt tied around her waist. She looked adorable, and as country as any girl I knew.
But when I started to make my way towards her, I stopped dead, as a fan spotted her, and a crowd started to gather. It grew larger with more people asking for autographs and pictures.
I thought of Austin’s comments about her career blowing up, and realized I was witnessing it in real-time. Damn. I didn’t know how I’d handle dating a full-blown celebrity, but that’s exactly what Rylee was on the verge of becoming, and it was unnerving.
The crowd finally parted when she pointed to me before saying a few words to them.
I didn’t have time to brace myself before she jumped into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me like she’d missed me as much as I’d missed her. I was aware that the group who’d gathered around her were now taking photos and videos of us.
“We’re making a bit of a scene,” I whispered in her ear. “Let’s get out of here, so I can have you all to myself.”
She growled in my ear. “Hmm, I like the sound of that, Sheriff. Are you going to take me home and have your way with me?”
I laughed before setting her down on her feet and reaching for the handle of her suitcase. I wheeled it along behind us as I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. We drew stares and whispers, from people who probably recognized her but couldn’t place her.
I was used to drawing attention in the communities I served, but that meant shaking hands and making small talk with locals. Not signing autographs and posing for selfies. In spite of having a famous sister, Rylee’s world was new to me.
“You okay?” she asked, side-eyeing me. “That wasn’t weird for you, was it? All the people asking for autographs?”
“It’ll take some getting used to,” I admitted as we walked through the sliding doors to the parking lot. “But this is your life, babe. Your music is your passion and gives you purpose, so whatever I have to deal with is worth it.”
She tugged on my hand, bringing us both to a stop. “The fact that you get me, already, blows my mind. You know what matters to me and why, and you’re willing to make sacrifices because you know my music… saved me.”
I let go of her suitcase and hauled her against my chest, holding her close while I collected myself. Thinking about the upbringing she’d had, and all that she’d needed to be saved from, made me realize music was more than her career.
It was her medicine. Her therapy. Her reason for being.
She rolled forward on her toes, kissing me. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“Just accepting me for who and what I am. Nobody’s ever really done that before. And it means a lot.”
Her words had the ability to break me or piece me back together. No wonder she was an award-winning singer/songwriter already. She’d tapped into her gift and wasn’t afraid to use it. Professionally and personally.
“You mean a lot to me.” My voice sounded too gruff to play it off like her words meant nothing, so I cleared my throat. “And that means the things you love matter to me. Because seeing you happy is becoming one of my top priorities.”
She dropped her head, resting her forehead against my chest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said last night, about my career having to be my top priority for the foreseeable future.”
“I get that, baby. You don’t have to explain.”
When I tried to walk away, she fisted my jacket in her hands and hauled me back. “But I think I do. Because in hindsight, that came out all wrong. See, I don’t think I get to choose what my top priority is. I think life is choosing it for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my top priority would be the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. That used to be my career. Now it’s you.
” She shrugged, looking adorably uncertain.
“I’m not sure how that happened. I just know that’s been my reality since I met you. ”
She was killing me. Making me weak when I prided myself on being strong. But I wanted more of this feeling.
“I feel exactly the same way,” I said, kissing her softly.
There were people coming and going, and I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to me now was this woman, and erasing any doubts she had about us.
“I love this feeling,” she whispered. “The way I feel when I’m with you. The only other time I’ve ever experienced a high like this is when I take the stage.” She looked up at me through a veil of long lashes before she asked, “What do you think that means, Sheriff?”
I knew what I wanted it to mean. I wanted it to mean she was falling in love with me, because I was pretty damn sure I was falling in love with her.
But she’d told me no one had ever said those three little words to her, and I didn’t want her to hear them for the first time standing in the parking lot of an airport.
“I think it means we’re building something real here. Something that could last.”
And I wanted that more with every passing day.
I had to admit, my sister had been right. Rylee fell in love with my house, claiming she could make it her home away from home, if I wasn’t stingy with the invites. As far as I was concerned, every square foot of my house already had her stamp all over it.
The table where we’d had the surf and turf I’d grilled for dinner. The living room where we’d curled up in front of the fire, talking about our high school years. The porch where we’d watched the sunset over a bottle of red wine. And now the bed where I was laying her down.
I knew every time my head hit the pillow from now on, I’d catch a whiff of her scent, hear her sultry voice, and see her curled up in my duvet, looking like an angel while she slept.
But right now, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d been waiting all week to make love to her again and I couldn’t wait another second.
I was crawling over her, pinning her with my weight, as I kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, “I can’t get enough of you. Pretty sure I’m addicted.”
Her laugh was husky as her nails glided over my back. “That’s an addiction I can get behind.”
I’d already pleasured her and she’d returned the favor. We’d gotten the desperation of first releases out of the way, making room for something deeper, slower, even more intimate as we locked eyes before I kissed her.
Letting go of the angst of the past week, I felt the stress melt away as she deepened the kiss, pulling me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist as she moaned into my mouth.
“I need you,” she whispered.
I’d never tire of hearing those words. Knowing how much it cost her to say them, made them rarer and more valuable.
I inched inside of her slowly, watching the air seep through her teeth as she adjusted to the invasion. “Feels so amazing…” She gasped as I moved slowly, letting her feel the power of a connection that seemed to defy words.
My body took over when the pleasure caused my mind to check out, moving instinctively, like I’d been making love to her forever.
I already knew what she liked. How fast, how deep, how hard, to come undone for me.
And I used that knowledge to draw it out until she was gasping and pleading, digging her nails into my back and moaning my name.
There’d been plenty of women before her, but it was hard to imagine another after her. I was pretty sure this girl was it for me. And that scared the hell out of me, because there were no guarantees I’d be allowed to keep her.
That thought unleashed something deep inside, a fear I’d kept buried, causing me to pick up the pace, trying to chase away the demons taunting me.
She surrendered to her release, but I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t let go of her.
God help me, I’d be wrecked if this thing ended.
Finally, without warning, my climax slammed me as I emptied into her. The significance wasn’t lost on me. She was the first woman I’d ever trusted enough to forgo the condom. And I needed her to be the last.
I rolled onto my back, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. I couldn’t say a word, pretending I needed the time to catch my breath. But I really needed a minute to talk myself off the ledge because I was spiraling into a pit of fear at the thought of losing her.
She tipped her head back, her hand resting on my chest. “You okay, babe? Your heart’s still racing.” Her half laugh was teasing when she said, “I haven’t worn you out, have I?”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I considered telling her the truth. Just the thought of being that vulnerable made my gut clench, but if we couldn’t be honest with each other, even when it was scary, we couldn’t build the kind of relationship I wanted.
I rolled over on my side, tucking a strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear. “Truth time. Don’t get freaked out, okay?”
Her eyes widened and she reared back a little. “You’re not gonna tell me you’ve got some weird fetish, are you?”
I laughed, loving her knack for bringing levity to any situation. “Yeah, I have a fixation with this sexy little country singer that keeps me up at night.”
She grinned. “Hmm, that’s the kind of compulsion I can totally support.”