Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

“Stop,” Cam said, and her stomach dropped like on the first hill of a roller coaster. Had she waited too long? Had he rethought his ultimatum during the five minutes she’d paced the living room, warring between desire and her common sense?

Heat that had nothing to do with the water pouring from the showerhead reddened her face and neck. Dammit, she wished she was better at controlling that fucking blush. It always gave away feelings she’d rather keep to herself.

“Do you want me to go?” She was already reaching for the door, but his hand shot out and caught her wrist.

“Eva, don’t.”

She stared up at him, confused by the touch of desperation in his words.

“If you run…” He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. She saw it in his eyes. If she left now, they were done. Completely done. No more superhero movie marathons or Sunday football games or karaoke nights. No more drinking games or crazy bets. No more Cam.

Her chest constricted. “I don’t want to run, but you told me to leave.”

“I told you to stop,” he said, voice rough. He let go of her wrist and dropped to his knees in front of her. The water beat down on his head, streamed over his face, but he didn’t seem to care. “As in, stop moving. You can’t touch me yet. I’m too wound up and I want to see you.” His breath fanned her stomach moments before his lips teased the skin there and his tongue flicked out to play around her bellybutton. He slid lower, nipping her hip with his teeth as one hand parted her legs, strong male fingers brushing lightly back and forth over her entrance. She gasped and arched toward him, clutching the towel bar on the wall behind her for support.

Cam kissed his way up her bowed body until his mouth found hers. “You’re already wet for me,” he whispered against her lips. His fingers parted her and drew circles around her clit. She trembled and his other hand circled her waist, steadying her.

“Do you want to come now?” He gave the sensitive nub a tweak that sent lightning bolts of pleasure zig-zagging across her vision.

“Yes, yes, yes.” The sounds coming from her throat were like nothing she’d ever heard from herself before, and she didn’t give a damn. She rocked into his hand, wanting more of those talented fingers, but he drew away, chuckling into her mouth before sealing his lips to hers in a flaming hot kiss.

“Or maybe I’ll draw it out,” he said and tugged on her lower lip with his teeth. “Make you wait. Beg for it.”

“Don’t you dare,” she gasped. “I’ll hurt you.”

He laughed. “How? I seemed to have you pinned.”

And he did, her back plastered to the tile wall with one of his hands holding both of her wrists captive over her head, her thighs parted by his hips. How did that happen? But she didn’t get a chance to freak out over how fast she’d lost control of the situation, because his mouth found hers again, his fingers hit all the right spots between her thighs, and pleasure blinded her to everything else but the man in front of her.

His lips traced a hot path along her jaw to her ear. “You’re gonna wait,” he told her even as he caressed her clit again. Overloaded with sensation, her leg muscles gave out. She would have collapsed if not for him holding her up.

“Yeah, you’re gonna wait. Know why?”

She shook her head, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks. Jaw set, Cam let go of her wrists and turned her so that she faced the wall. His hand traced the curve of her spine, cupped her ass, then left her. She glanced over her shoulder, watching him take himself in hand and guide the flared head to her opening.

His breath hissed out between clenched teeth, and his chest heaved as he pushed inside. “You’re gonna wait because I want to feel your pussy squeezing me when you come.”

He pumped his hips, slow at first and then faster, harder until she lost all sense of herself. All that mattered was their connection and the growing sense of pressure building in her core. She pushed back, meeting his thrusts with her own, needing him even deeper.

When he reached around and found her clit again, she shattered, screaming his name. Behind her, Cam roared with satisfaction, his body spasming with his own release.

Then, silence. Except for their sawing breaths and the water splattering against the tile floor.

Cam leaned over and pressed a kiss to the base of her neck before dislodging their bodies. She shivered, half from the chill of having been out of the warm water for too long, and half from the sensation of loss as he pulled out. He gathered her into his arms, her back secure against his hard chest, and switched their positions so that the water rained down on her. She shut her eyes, relaxed into him, and allowed him to run the soap over her sensitive breasts and belly. For a short moment, she felt more secure than she ever had in her life. Cared for. Loved, even.

Her eyes snapped open. Hell to the no. That’s not what this was about. She wasn’t looking for love anymore. Growing up, she’d yearned for a perfect life. She’d watched TV and imagined herself in those happy families. Later, in college, she made one up so she never had to tell anyone the truth of her upbringing. But when she thought of her four oldest siblings growing up in loving homes with doting parents, jealousy ate her up inside. She’d wanted that. Still wanted it in her weaker moments.

It was just a pipe dream, though. She wasn’t built for that kind of love, and the one glimmer of hope she’d had died in Key West when she found out Preston had cheated on her. So this thing between her and Cam was not about love. Just friendship and sex, plain and simple.

But did Cam know that? The way he was handling her, like something extremely precious to him, suggested not.

She shrugged out of his arms and faced him, the water beating on her back beginning to run cool. “We need to set some boundaries.”

His brows slammed together. “Uh, don’t ya think we just smashed through all the boundaries?”

“Exactly why we need new ones.”

Cam’s jaw tightened, then he reached around her to shut the water off and opened the shower door. “I have a feeling we should get dressed for this conversation.”

She nodded and followed him from the shower. Wordlessly accepted the towel he offered and tucked it around herself as he went to the linen closet to get another one. His back to her, he dragged his towel through his hair, did a quick run with it down his front and backside, then wound it around his hips and faced her again. The green terrycloth dipped in front to show off the V of muscle at his hips and highlighted his still semi-hard erection. Her eyes traced the length of him—couldn’t help herself. Who would have guessed under his laid-back, jeans and T-shirt style, Cam was an all-around physically impressive male specimen?

She moistened her lips, and lust flared hot in his eyes before he strode toward the door.

“I think I have a pair of your jeans from the last time you crashed here,” he said over his shoulder. “I can give you a T-shirt to wear while your clothes from yesterday wash.”

She bent to retrieve the Redskins jersey she’d worn as a nightshirt and pulled it on over her towel. “It’s fine. I’ll wear this.”

He glanced back, did a double take as the towel pooled around her feet, and made a low rumbling sound deep in his throat. He turned to his dresser, tore through it with a renewed sense of urgency, and tossed a pair of pants at her. She caught them. Her favorite slouchy jeans.

“So that’s where these went. I’ve been looking for them.”

“You spilled coffee on yourself last time you were over and I threw them in the washer. You left without them.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about that.” She stepped into the soft denim and buttoned the waistband, then remembered she wasn’t wearing a bra and backtracked to the bathroom to put it on. By the time she returned to the bedroom, the door stood open and Cam’s towel lay abandoned at the foot of his bed. She found him in the kitchen, wearing another pair of his endless supply of sweatpants and no shirt.

As he busied himself with making yet another cup of coffee, she took the opportunity to study his hard-cut muscles, highlighted by the tribal swirls of his shoulder tattoo. Funny, she’d seen him shirtless plenty of times in the past, and never once had the thought “gorgeous sex god” popped into her head. Now, it wouldn’t leave. She considered walking up behind him and tracing the indent of his spine with her tongue…

No. Talk first.

Then, if it went well, they’d see about more sex.

“All right, what kind of boundaries?” Cam dumped his cold coffee from breakfast in the sink, then settled against the counter with the fresh mug in hand. His front view was even sexier than the back, flat copper nipples pebbled in the cool air, abs and pecs more often seen on fitness models than ex-homicide detectives, and an intriguing trail of hair pointing from his shallow bellybutton to the waistband of his pants, which tented when her gaze zeroed in on the bulge there.

He shifted and cleared his throat.

Shit, she had to stop doing that.

Eva returned to her seat at the island bar, pushing away the breakfast plate she’d left when she chased him into the shower. “Well, obviously things have changed between us since Key West.”

“Obviously,” he said, deadpan, and lifted his mug to his mouth. “You never used to eye-fuck me like you just were.”

Heat crept up the back of her neck. “Right. And we’re both single and unattached…”

“Uh-huh. So what are you saying?”

“The sex is…” God, she couldn’t think of a word. Amazing wasn’t high enough praise but, really, did she want to stroke his ego like that? If she did, she’d never hear the end of it, so she started over. “I wouldn’t mind continuing our physical relationship.”

One dark brow arched, and his lips twisted into a wry smile. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh, hell. I
want
to continue, but we can’t let sex ruin our friendship. We’re friends first, and if this chemistry between us is going to change that, then I’m not willing to give up our friendship for a few good nights together.”

“I’d like a lot more than a few.”

Oh boy, so would she. Especially when he stood there with his hair still damp, looking…lickable, as Shelby would say. Yeah, it was the only term to describe him right now. Mouthwatering and gorgeous and completely lickable.

Pretending nonchalance, she shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see how it goes, but if it ever starts to interfere with us, it ends. Deal?”

He considered it for so long, her stomach began to flutter with nerves. But, finally, he finished his coffee, pushed away from the counter, and stood across the island from her. “Before I agree, there’s something else we need to talk about.”

For the life of her, she couldn’t begin to guess what that something was, but the seriousness of his expression chilled her. “Okay.”

“I don’t know how to ask this tactfully, so I’ll just come out and… Aw, damn.” He rubbed his jaw, his beard stubble rasping against his palm, then met her gaze. “Could you be pregnant?”

She sat back, her head reeling as if he’d just dealt her a physical blow. “What?”

“I ask because if so, that changes everything. We didn’t use a condom in there.” He tilted his head, indicating the direction of his bedroom. “Honestly, it’s been so long for me, I don’t even know if I have any condoms in the house. And I don’t exactly remember, but pretty sure we skipped the safe sex discussion in Key West, too.”

She blew out a breath, taking the moment to calm her racing heart. “No, I’m not pregnant. I’m on birth control.”

“Even though you’ve been single?”

“Let me clarify, I’m
always
on birth control, single or not. I don’t make a habit of one-night-stands, but shit happens—like Key West, for example—and I refuse to end up like my mother with nine kids by eight different fathers.”

Cam’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you had any siblings besides Shelby.”

“They were placed in foster care before Shelby or I came along. We’re ten months apart and have different fathers, but by the time we were born, CPS was sick of finding homes for Mom’s kids and decided she had
settled down
enough to raise us.”

Eva winced at the bitterness so very evident in her words. Some of her siblings had gone to good homes and were doing all right for themselves now. Others had ended up in worse situations than she’d grown up in and were either dead or in prison. She supposed she should count herself lucky she didn’t end up with foster parents who could care less about her—because for all of her mother’s faults, nobody could ever say Katrina didn’t love her children when she was sober.

“I stay on birth control,” she said, evening her voice out, “because any kids I have will be wanted, planned for. They’ll have embarrassing baby photos and college funds. Their lives are going to be as close to that perfect 1950s sitcom family as possible.”

She couldn’t stand to see the sorrow in Cam’s expression and dropped her gaze to the counter. Up until his parents died, he’d had the life she’d always wanted, and a secret part of her, tucked away deep inside the darkest chambers of her heart, had always hated him for it. “So, um, we’re safe. No surprise babies.”

Cam watched her across the island, and she had to fight to keep from fidgeting under his scrutiny. After a minute that seemed like an hour, he nodded. “Good. Takes a weight off.”

Okay, she definitely shouldn’t experience a pang of hurt that he was relieved about there being almost no possibility of pregnancy. Yet, there it was, digging claws into her heart.

Fucking hell. Was there a prize for most emotionally wrecked? If not, there should be. She’d win it, hands down.

Chapter Fifteen

He’d always known Eva’s childhood hadn’t been a cake walk, but she’d never before offered up any details, and he’d never asked. Now, Cam knew without doubt the small glimpse she’d just given wasn’t the worst of it, and his heart broke for the little girl she’d once been.

He finished his coffee in a hard swallow and hoped like hell she didn’t notice the tremble of his hand as he set the mug in the sink. Fucking child services should have done more to protect her and Shelby, and the fact they had failed the two girls so miserably pissed him off in a big way.

He needed to pummel something. Like, right fucking now. “I’m gonna hit the gym.”

Eva shook herself from whatever internal demons she’d been battling, and her gaze refocused on the here and now. She frowned. “But you just showered.”

“So, I’ll shower again.” He couldn’t stand around chatting with her, not with the ball of useless anger at her mother and the flawed child care system eating at his gut.

Without waiting for her response, he left the kitchen and strode past the doors of his and Vaughn’s rooms to the master bedroom at the end of the hall, which they’d elected to convert to a gym when they moved in because of its massive size. His feet sank into the padded mats covering the floor as he crossed to a line of shelves along one wall and grabbed his fingerless boxing gloves from their spot on the third shelf. Flexing his hands to make sure they fit correctly, he finally let the anger explode in a burst of movement. He spun and nailed the nearby heavy bag with a roundhouse that sent it swinging.

Child
protective
services. Protection was their job, goddammit.

And fuck Eva’s mother for living the kind of selfish lifestyle that made their half-hearted intervention necessary in the first place.

Cam lit into the bag, attacking it from every angle until his knuckles ached and sweat blinded him, but the anger still sat like molten lead in the pit of his soul. His mind kept conjuring up the image of a small, dark haired girl watching
Full House
with longing in her big, dark eyes as her mother lay passed out on the couch from another round of binge partying, and it just added more fuel to the fire of his rage. He didn’t stop until he hit the bag so hard, it swung back and plowed into his stomach. Air left his lungs in a whoosh, and with it, finally, his anger. He bent double, placing his hands on his knees and dragging in lung-filling drafts of air.

“Feel better?”

He straightened, not all that surprised to see Eva propped in the doorway. “No.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Listen, I’m sorry if I pissed you off, but if you want to continue sleeping together, those are my terms.”

“What?” He stared at her, his mind backtracking over their conversation before her past came up. “Shit. No, that’s not—I’m good with that.” Well, mostly. Friends with benefits wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, but it was a step in the right direction. “I mean, no strings sex between friends? What’s not to like?”

Eva nodded toward the punching bag. “So why go all Hulk on that thing?”

Because she’d deserved better than what she’d gotten, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change the past.

He shrugged. “Needed a workout.”

“The athletic shower sex wasn’t workout enough for you?”

Yeah, it had been, and he’d pay for all the abuse he’d subjected his muscles to this morning. “Nah. I’m foggy if I don’t get in a good session with the bag.” He unstrapped his gloves and discovered not only had he beat his knuckles raw, but his fingers had stiffened up. Fuck, that was going to hurt in a few hours. He returned the gloves to their spot and casually shook out each hand before bending to grab a water from the mini fridge on the bottom shelf. “So…have you checked the weather reports?”

Great. Now he’d stooped to small talk about the weather.

“Yes.” She watched him drink down half the bottle. “We’re at fourteen inches and counting. City’s declared a state of emergency, along with Baltimore, New York, and Boston. Nobody was spared with this storm. It’s already being touted as the superstorm of the century.”

“Hmph. Seems like there’s a new one of those every year.”

“You’re telling me, but this one’s definitely a record breaker. I called the office, and they don’t want anyone attempting to come in until the roads are cleared, so I’m going to do what I can from here.”

“All right. You can use Vaughn’s computer. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

With a nod, she straightened from the door jamb, then hesitated before turning to leave. “Cam?” She tried to hide it, but a sad kind of fear clouded her eyes. “Are we okay? Still friends?”

He thought of that little girl, and his heart broke all over again. So many people had let her down. He’d be damned before he was one of them. “Yeah, Eva. Always.”

…

After the strange morning, Eva feared the rest of the day would have the same Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole feel. But Cam’s presence was more of a balm than anything else and, true to his word, he stayed out of her way for the rest of the afternoon and let her get caught up on the piles of paperwork she’d been neglecting. In fact, having him at his own computer in the living room while she slogged through the hated administrative work felt enough like when they’d been partners that she experienced a pang or two of nostalgia throughout the day.

Eventually, Cam did interrupt her for dinner and threw a frozen pizza in the oven. It was nice to bullshit with him over pizza and beer like they always used to, but as dinner wound down, his demeanor changed. Heat flared between them, gasoline tossed on a banked fire, and the hungry look on his face made her go wet with anticipation. He reached over the counter, gently closed the lid of her borrowed computer, then led her by the hand to his bedroom, where he completely rocked her world.

Again.

She really had to be careful, because she could get used to this routine.

The following morning, she woke up before him—big surprise—and checked outside. It had stopped snowing, but the road was still impassible. As long as the snow continued to hold off, she figured the roads would be mostly clear by the end of the day, and life in the city would return to normal by tomorrow.

Why wasn’t she more relieved about that?

Sighing at herself, she turned away from the window and rummaged through the kitchen for breakfast. She found Honey Nut Cheerios in the cupboard and a nearly empty gallon of milk in the fridge with a good expiration date. Worked for her. She munched on a bowl of the cereal and wondered what she should do today. She’d completed all of her backed-up paperwork via remote access to the department’s network, but couldn’t stand the thought of idle hours. She’d go batshit crazy from cabin fever by noon. Finishing her cereal, she decided to go back over the case files she had with her and retrieved her bag from the loft. Her phone, left charging on the desk, buzzed as she passed and she paused to check the screen. If it was work or Shelby—

Nope. Preston.

She let it go to voice mail like his past six calls, grabbed her bag, and continued down the ladder. She told him she’d think about taking him back, but that didn’t mean she had to talk to him while she was thinking, right?

Two hours later, Cam bolted out of his room as if he was in hot pursuit of a criminal, all but slamming into the wall opposite his door.

“What’s the rush?”

He skidded to a halt when he spotted her at the kitchen island, and sheer relief passed over his face before he hid it.

“Oh. Hey.” As casually as he could manage, he strolled to the coffee maker as if that had been his destination all along. “Mornin’.”

Had he thought she left in the middle of the night again?

She winced at his back as shame washed over her. She should apologize for her cowardly actions in Key West, but… Damn, it was all so embarrassing now. She couldn’t bring herself to voluntarily broach the topic with him.

“Good morning,” she said instead.

“Sleep well?”

She snorted. “When you let me.”

He turned with his mug in hand and gave a dimpled smile that would drop a nun’s panties. “My work here is—no, on second thought, forget I said that. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

She shook her head and tried to return to her files, but the sensual promise in his words had her heating up in all the best places. Her mind wandered to the memory of his hands on her skin, his mouth on her sex— “Whatcha working on?”

His question brought back her focus and guilt stung her. This particular file deserved all of her attention and since he walked into the room, it hadn’t gotten any.

“The Dunphy-Adams case,” she answered and flipped to the crime scene photos. If anything could douse her lust fast, it’d be those gruesome, graphic pictures. “It’s finally going to trial and my court date is next week. I’m refreshing my memory on the details.” Not that she really wanted to revisit the details—it had been one of those cases she’d rather not remember, but would probably never forget. Charles Dunphy had brutally killed Selena Adams, his eleven-year-old step-daughter, and although they had arrested Dunphy on some pretty solid evidence early on in the investigation, she’d always felt there were too many loose ends in the case. Mainly, his motive. There was no discernible reason Dunphy would want his step-daughter dead. Yet, she was, and his DNA was all over her and the knife used to kill her.

“Dunphy-Adams,” Cam said and his eyes rolled toward the ceiling as he did a mental calculation. “That was…what? Three years ago? And it’s just going to trial now?”

“The defense threw up as many road blocks as they could.”

Cam moved around the end of the island and leaned over her shoulder to study the crime scene photos. “Yeah, I remember this case. It always bothered the hell out of me that we were never able to prove his brother’s involvement.”

“Me, too, and we still can’t. Gordon Dunphy is never going to be charged unless his brother talks. And Charles hasn’t talked to anyone but his lawyer for years.” She slumped into her seat and rolled her head around on her neck in an effort to relieve the tightness in her back.

Cam’s big hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs digging into the worst knots along her spine, and she bit back a moan at the pleasure-pain of his strong fingers kneading out the tension.

“Is Gordon still causing problems?” he asked.

“If by that you mean he’s still obnoxiously insisting his brother has been wrongfully accused? Hell, yes. But is he still attacking the lead investigators in bars? Not that I’m aware. I think he’s mostly forgotten about us. Do you still have the restraining order against him?”

Cam’s fingers stilled and she turned in her seat to look at him. “Do you?”

“No,” he answered slowly. “I forgot about it until just now. I think it expired last month.”

She studied him, instincts screaming he was holding something back from her, but she saw no evidence of it in his expression. Man had an unreadable poker face when he wanted to. “Have you had trouble with him since?”

“Nah. Like you said, he probably forgot about me. I’m no longer the threat to his brother’s freedom—the court is.” Dismissing the subject with a shrug, Cam resumed massaging her shoulders and pressed his lips lightly to the bare skin at the base of her neck. “I think you need a break. You’re all tense.”

God, it felt so good. His kneading fingers digging into her muscles, the kiss sending chills down her spine. She wanted more—his lips, his hands all over her. And, dammit, that was not a part of the deal they’d made. She moved out of his reach and shut the file on the Dunphy case.

“Cam, stop. You’re touching me like…”

Confusion drew his brows together. “Like what?”

She sighed. “Like we’re lovers.”

“We are. Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?”

“No, we’re friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. There’s a big difference between our arrangement and lovers.”

He opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking, and his lips thinned into a hard line. He backed up a step, hands raised. “You’re right. Sorry. I got carried away.”

She nodded and busied herself with gathering up the files she had spread across the counter. Of course she was right…

But then why did pushing him away feel so wrong?

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m going to shower. It’s stopped snowing and the roads should be clear by this afternoon.”

If he was disappointed by that news, he didn’t show it. “Oh. Good.” He picked up his coffee, drank deeply.

Good?
Was that all he had to say? “So, I’m going to go home and pick up a change of clothes, then check in at work, see if they need any help.”

He circled the island, grabbed a bowl from the dishwasher, and poured himself some cereal. The lack of milk didn’t deter him. “I’m sure you’ll be busy this week.”

She watched him dig in to the dry cereal, outrage stealing through her at his offhand tone. Was he
ready
to be rid of her?

Man, now she kind of wanted to punch him.

She stood. “Yes, I’m sure I will be.”

“So…you probably wouldn’t want to catch a movie Friday.”

Her outrage softened into a warm glow that spread through her body. Then a horrible thought struck. “You’re not asking me out on a date, are you? Because—”

“No! No, no. Aw, shit.” He gave up on the cereal and set it aside. “I swear I didn’t mean it to sound like that. You’ve drawn the line pretty damn clear between us, and I’m trying not to cross over it. But—” He stopped and rubbed his jaw, obviously at a loss for words. “Listen, I don’t know how to talk to you now. Before, I’d just call you up and say, ‘Hey, Thor 2’s playing. Let’s go get our geek on.’ But now, feels like everything I say has a double meaning. An offer to see a movie, or grab a bite to eat, or go to Maguire’s for a beer, sounds like I’m after a date.”