Chapter Six
Moira’s senses picked up movement, and she eased her eyes open.
The warm satin sheets felt so good against her bare legs.
Cam was leaned back on the dresser, head cocked, arms crossed, abs flexed, one hand resting in front of his face as he watched her. “Hey, sleepy,” he said softly.
“Hey, creepy.”
His eyes were still blazing bright gold, but he wasn’t angry. A slow smile stretched across his face. “Already to the pet names, are we?”
“Nope. Pet names are against the UnValentine’s Day rules.” Moira sat up and looked around the loft. Outside the big window, it was snowing again.
God, she loved it here.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the window reflection and her hair was a mess.
“Look what you did to my hair,” she accused.
“I love it. I took like fifteen pictures of you when you were sleeping.”
Her mouth fell open. “Cam! You can’t just take naked pictures of a woman without her permission.”
“You weren’t naked, I made sure you were covered up, and I did ask, and you said, ‘mmm hmmm’ and I already sent every one of them to your phone. You can tell me which ones to delete or tell me to delete all of them. I hope you don’t though. I really like them.”
She frowned. Well, that sounded all right then. “I want to see.”
He picked his phone up off his dresser and sank down onto the bed beside her, opened up his photos and handed it over. Just like that.
She hesitated, the phone sitting on her palm. “You can just show me if you want to.”
He frowned. “Why would I care if you see photos on my phone?”
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I feel…” She handed it back to him. “I feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
His frown deepened, and he snatched the phone from her hand, then started scrolling fast through his pictures.
There was a dozen of her sleeping, his satin sheets covering her, but accentuating her curves, and her face was relaxed with sleep.
She looked kind of beautiful. And then he shocked her by flipping through more photos.
They were mostly pictures of the outdoors, and some food, a couple of a group of guys laughing while he stood in the middle of them.
A couple of a little kid playing hockey—his nephew, she would guess.
One with that kiddo up on his shoulders as they were both mid-laugh.
There was one of him with his arm around a woman, and he stopped on that one.
“My sister, Avery,” he explained. “You’ll meet her tonight if you go with me. ”
“I…” The words were stuck in her throat. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Mmm, let me guess. Your ex was territorial over his phone?”
“Very. He drilled it into my head that if I even looked at it over his shoulder, it was an indicator that I didn’t trust him.”
“How long did that go on?”
“Three years.”
He gave a dark chuckle and handed her the phone back.
“Go through the photos and text yourself the ones you want. I’m not territorial over my phone because I have nothing to hide.
If a man is defending his phone like that, drop him,” he gritted out as he stood.
He jogged down the stairs and disappeared, and she was left in his bed holding his open, unlocked phone.
What the hell?
She blinked hard and went through the pictures of herself.
Moira couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing something wrong, but she thought about it.
He’d given her his phone, and encouraged her to look through the pictures, and he wasn’t hiding it.
And he owed her nothing. They’d just met. They were strangers.
Her heart fluttered as she looked at the pictures he’d taken of her. She liked the way he saw her. She liked the way he took pictures, and the angles he chose.
She looked at peace.
So strange to find peace with a stranger.
So strange to find peace with anyone.
Moira texted herself one of the pictures.
She liked the way she looked in it, sure, but from this angle, she could see Cam in the reflection of the dresser mirror, and his abs and arms looked shredded.
The camera covered his face, but good gah, he looked so hot standing there taking pictures of her.
She wanted that one for memories.
She would never forget today, or the way he was making her feel.
But a little dark thought overcame her. This is what Cam did. He met women, fucked women, and released them back into the wild to continue their lives with a memory and a story.
He was good at this because he had done it before.
She backed out of the picture and looked at the grid of recent pictures and scrolled. She couldn’t find any pictures of women, but that was probably because he deleted them. Just like he would delete hers, so he could hand his next conquest the phone and pretend he didn’t have anything to hide.
All men had something to hide.
She pursed her lips and let the phone screen go dark, then got up and dressed, taking her time.
Downstairs, the kitchen was situated right below the loft, so she couldn’t see him, but she could hear Cam moving around the kitchen. The clink of pots sounded, and the rustle of packaging.
As she stepped carefully down the loft stairs, she caught the first whiff of tomato soup. He was heating up the meal she’d brought.
“I can cook that,” she offered.
He was spreading butter on both sides of the bread she’d brought. Okay, so he knew how to make a grilled cheese.
“Let me do it,” he told her. “Come hang out with me.” He patted the counter like it was a chair, so she obliged.
Moira sidled up to the counter, and without hesitation, Cam reached to her hips and gently lifted her up, settling her on the counter near the stove.
“Do you keep toiletries in your bathroom for your guests?”
He was shirtless, clad in a gray pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. His muscles were rippling with every moment. “My guests? There’s a bathroom in the office.”
“You know what I mean.”
He flashed her a confused look, then returned to slicing cheese for the sandwiches. “My nephew, Nathaniel, stays the night sometimes. He has a set-up here. My sister goes on dates sometimes, and when she does, Nathaniel stays here and hangs out with me.”
“I mean for women,” she said awkwardly.
“Ooooh,” he said, his soft brown eyes filling with understanding. “You’re asking if I keep toothbrushes here for women I spend time with?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want a toothbrush? You can use mine. Or I might have an extra if I dig around.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Cam inhaled deeply and set the knife down, settled himself in between her knees and rested his hands on her thighs. “What is this?”
She shrugged.
“Is it second-guessing what we did?”
“I just want to know how to do this, I guess.”
“You did just fine.”
“I mean if I want to do this back at home, how do I go about it? Do I keep toothbrushes for the men I sleep with?” Yeah, she said it for a reaction. No, she didn’t really plan on having a revolving door of men visit her home. This was a one-time gig for her. Cam didn’t need to know that though.
His brown eyes turned gold just before he looked away. “Sure,” he said. “Do that if you want.”
There was a grit to his voice, and she regretted saying what she had said.
“So, you don’t have extra toothbrushes for wom—”
He yanked her off the counter and folded her into his arms, stormed to the bathroom and set her onto her feet, opened all three drawers of his bathroom, and the cabinet underneath.
He gestured to it. “Have at it. I already told you to make yourself at home here while I was gone. I didn’t have any restraints on it.
You could’ve gone through my entire damn house if you wanted to.
You won’t find pads, or make-up remover, or extra toiletries or shampoos or hairbands, or any of that shit.
I know what this is,” he gritted out, eyes fiery.
“Oh yeah? What is it?” she asked primly, lifting her chin higher into the air.
“You making a stranger pay for what your ex did. I’m not doing anything wrong.” He held her gaze for a moment more, and then made his way back to the kitchen, leaving her there to crumple back against the wall near the drawers.
He was right. God, what an annoying man. He was smart. Maybe too smart. She was at risk here, the longer she stayed. He was starting to understand her, and a man who understood a woman like her could gain the power to manage her. Moira didn’t want to be managed. Not ever.
She closed the drawers and the cabinet without looking inside. She’d heard the truth in his voice. She would find no trace of his other conquests here, just like his next conquest would never find a trace of her.
And this was the game, right? This was what she’d signed up for.
She’d known from the second she stepped onto that shuttle to come here with the intention of seducing him…
he would owe her nothing. Not ever. She had no right to accuse or question or even to be curious.
Cam was right. He was essentially a stranger, and she was making him pay for the distrust Erik had instilled into her.
“Are you going to enjoy lunch?” he asked as Moira returned to the kitchen, his muscular back to her as he heated the grilled cheeses on a griddle. “Or are you going to pick me apart some more?”
“I was thinking of picking you apart more,” she admitted.
He flashed her a wicked, golden-eyed glare over his shoulder.
Slowly, he reached for the nob on the stove and turned the heat off, then turned for her, canted her head and devoured her with a narrow-eyed glare.
And suddenly, Cam moved so fast, she gasped.
He caught her and dragged her to him, nipped at her throat and settled his lips by her ear as he said, “I know how to make you shut the fuck up.”
He dragged his fingertips up between her legs, and she uttered a little moan, and rolled her eyes closed.
Not fair. He didn’t play fair. She was trying to build her walls up again, and he was stealing the bricks she was using to maintain distance between them.