Chapter 23 Nadine
NADINE
Erik and Molly’s household is pure chaos.
Laughter and music and so many people they put out folding chairs for more seats.
The scents of roasted turkey, garlic mashed potatoes, and my father’s famous empanadillas and coquito float from the kitchen.
Molly isn’t much of a cook, nor was anyone interested in standing in front of the stove for hours on end to feed over a dozen people, so she had our meal catered, but Dad couldn’t not bring the food and drink he’d grown up on to show off to the newbies.
He hands out the little turnovers and passes around glasses of what is essentially Puerto Rican eggnog, waiting patiently for their review.
Most everyone usually enjoys them, but for those who don’t, they tend to pretend to keep him happy.
Between the Riveras—our parents and all five of us kids congregating together, as well as Felix’s girlfriend—Molly’s family—including her parents and brother—and Camden and Paisley, it’s a nice time. We eat and laugh and eat some more.
I watch Paisley have fun, loving that she can easily communicate with everyone because they all know ASL, and my mom takes an immediate liking to her. No one will ever be able to replace her parents, but Paisley stays by my mom’s side most of the day.
At some point, my gaze drifts across the room to where Camden stands, cradling Kai with an unexpected tenderness.
The sight of this giant man, cooing at my nephew, nearly brings me to my knees, and I think back to last week when he crawled to me, literally on his knees, all but begging me to give him a chance. Give us a chance.
As promised, he has not pushed me about our conversation. He’s given me space to process my feelings and think about what I want. We have both gone through enormous changes this year, and I’m not someone who is able to make decisions on a whim.
I have to think and overthink. Make sure I’ve considered every angle and have processed every possible outcome. It’s not the best way to cope with anxiety, but it’s simply what I need to do to feel comfortable.
And watching him with Kai cements what I know to be true—he is who I want. He may not be perfect and has done things that I don’t agree with, but he’s changed. He said he wants to be better for me, and I believe him.
I’ve witnessed it.
I know his heart.
I know that, deep down, he is a man who wants a family. He wants his sister to be safe and happy, and he’s trying so hard to show the world that nothing he’s been through has broken him, I’m afraid he will crack.
If he’ll allow me, I’d like to be his soft place to land. I’d like to be the person who holds him together when he needs it. Show him he can break and still be loved.
He lifts his gaze as if he knows I’m staring at him. There is a softness to his dark eyes, a vulnerability he doesn’t let anyone else but me see. The raw and unguarded part of him.
For a moment, the room falls away. Everything goes silent, and it’s only the two of us. Acknowledging the shift that has taken place. It might as well be the tectonic plates moving for how my heart leaps out of my chest.
His lips curve into a small, private smile, and I feel my neck and cheeks heat, a whole silent conversation floating between us.
That I’m ready.
And he’s all in.
At his single dip of his chin, I know we’ll be leaving soon.
With Erik and Molly hosting everyone, and most of my family and Molly’s staying over, I will be sleeping at Camden’s tonight so they have an extra bedroom to use for whoever needs it.
And it could not have worked out better, according to the way Camden carefully sets Kai on his play mat and makes his way to me, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip before his top teeth drag along it.
With a scruffy jaw and thick cream sweater pushed up to his elbows, he’s killing me. Death by lust suffocation. I barely manage an inhale when he asks, “You almost ready to go?” When I nod, his answering grin is feral. “Me too.”
Though it takes another hour to get through all of the goodbyes as if we won’t see each other tomorrow, and by the time I’m finally seated in the front seat of Camden’s car, I’m buzzing with nervous energy.
Paisley passes out almost immediately in the back seat, her cell phone held loosely in her hand, head tipped backward, mouth open.
I swear the girl could fall asleep anywhere, at any time.
But up front, I’m wide awake. My skin electric when Camden moves his hand from the gear shift to my thigh, squeezing with a rumbled, “I love this.”
He tugs at my plaid wool skirt that comes to my knees but is hitched up because of his efforts, rubbing his palm up and down my leg, from mid-thigh to my knee, where the top of my boots hit. “Like a naughty schoolgirl.”
I adjust my position, spreading my legs a bit wider, and even though he keeps his attention on the road, his fingers inch up higher, closer to the sensitive place between them.
I keep my voice as steady as possible when I tell him, “You have a teacher look about you today. Just add in your glasses.”
With his perfectly tailored brown pants and cable-knit sweater, he could pass for old money or an academic. I don’t mind either one, but he clearly has a preference.
“You role-play?” he asks, and my pulse accelerates. “I can keep you after class for detention and teach you some things.”
I swallow thickly. “Not particularly interested in that fantasy.”
“No?” His fingers tighten to a bruising grip. “What are your fantasies?”
I check over my shoulder to make sure Paisley is still asleep before answering. “I’m not sure it’s all that exciting.”
“Tell me.”
I tug at the collar of my shirt, suddenly shy.
“What?” He squeezes my leg even harder.
“I’m asleep, and you…” I clear my throat as he shifts, and I understand his need to move. I feel it too. The need to crawl out of my skin. Only to make a home under his.
“Tell me, honey.” Desperation drips from the endearment. Like his life depends on it.
“Lately, I’ve been fantasizing that you come home and find me asleep. You wake me up by sliding inside me, and by the time I open my eyes, you’re already almost there.”
“Fuck me.” He groans and removes his hand from my leg to readjust himself. “You know how many times I’ve wanted to go into your room? How many times I’ve thought about sneaking under your covers? And you’ve been fantasizing about that the whole time?” He grunts. “I’m dying here.”
I might laugh if I weren’t close to expiring myself.
Merely admitting that has turned my nipples to hard points, and I can feel my heartbeat pulsing between my legs.
“I think about using you however I want,” he confesses, driving with his left hand on the wheel, his other over his apparent erection. “You never say no to me. Whenever I want to fuck you, no matter where or when, you never say no.”
I inhale sharply, imagining it. Being bent over the kitchen counter as soon as he walks in. Pushing me to my knees in the shower. Stripping me down on the terrace at night, sinking into me as the city lights twinkle around us.
I find myself nodding, grating out an “Okay,” and he blows out an audible breath.
The rest of the ride is silent, save for the quiet music or the hum of the engine.
By the time he parks the car in the garage, I’m hot and sweaty.
In the elevator, I fidget with my hair, trying to cool off my neck while Paisley leans into her brother’s side, yawning.
Upstairs, she shuffles off to her room, and as soon as her door closes, Camden takes my hand in his, practically running with me down the hall to his bedroom.
I’ve seen it before, with the glass wall and neutral tones, but I’ve never stood here in the middle of the room while he’s circled me.
His eyes are almost black as he drags his fingertips over me, blazing a trail in their wake.
When he finally stops behind me, his mouth is hot on my neck, and I am on fire.
Needy and overheated. My clothes are itchy and heavy, and I help him to undo the buttons of my blouse, peel my skirt down over my hips until I’m left in only my bra and underwear.
Then he spins us to the mirror so I can watch in the reflection as he learns the topography of my body.
His hands cup my breasts. They’re small, and I might be self-conscious about them if not for the way he murmurs words about how he can’t wait to kiss them.
Then he smooths his palms over my stomach to my hips that are so much wider than the rest of me, down to my dimpled outer thighs.
He tells me how much he loves my legs, how he often finds himself staring at my ass.
“You are perfect. Exactly the way you are.”
So, no, I don’t care I’m short and pear-shaped, that my breasts are nothing to write home about, or that I have a PMS breakout on my chin, because Camden can’t get enough of me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps against my ear, a moment before nibbling on it. “And you’re mine.”
I nod, turning in his hold to work on his belt. “You are mine.”
He curves his hands around my jaw, smiling into a kiss. “I’m yours.”
He sweeps his tongue into my mouth, not bothering to help me with his zipper or pants, and I let out a small, frustrated growl, which earns a laugh.
“A little help,” I say, and he steps away only long enough to whip off his sweater and step out of his pants. Then he’s back on me again, mouth seeking, hands roaming.
Mine are too, fingertips tracing over the hard muscles on either side of his spine and down his sides.
When I trail over the ripples of his stomach, he sucks in a breath like it tickles, so I do it again, and he pulls on my lip with his teeth in reprimand.
Then he unclasps my bra so it falls off and continues on to my underwear, soft pink with lace on the sides, making a sound of approval.