by T L Swan
“I haven’t been with anyone since you, Ash. I can’t stand the thought of being with another woman.”
My eyes search his. Oh God, I so want to believe him.
“How could I be with another woman when I left my heart with you?”
I close my eyes, and just like that he has broken down all my defences.
“Cameron,” I whisper.
He pulls my head to his and kisses my forehead.
“I just want a chance to make this right. I fucked up by not being there for you both when Owen was born. I know you’ve had it tough, Bloss. I know you resent me for not being around. And hell, you’ve done an amazing job with him on your own. He’s perfect.”
I can hardly see him through my tears, and I swallow down the painful lump in my throat.
“But, I’m the one who resents myself for every single day I missed out on Owen. I can’t get that time back no matter what I do.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“And maybe that’s the reason I went batshit crazy, lost my mind and took it all the way to court.” He shrugs. “Maybe I resented the power that you had over my son. Maybe I resented the fact that I had absolutely no say in anything in his life thus far.”
God, what a mess.
“Cam.” I pause as I try to articulate my thoughts. “I can’t just jump back into a relationship with you.” I shake my head.
“I don’t want you to.”
My eyes search his. “Then what do you want?”
“I want you to forgive me. I want to be able to look you in the eye and not see you drag your eyes away from mine in disgust. I want us to start again fresh.”
I drop my head as his proposal runs through my mind.
He leans in and kisses my cheek, lifting my chin with his finger so that our eyes meet.
“I can’t promise you anything,” I whisper as my eyes search his.
“Just your forgiveness is enough, and at the end of it all, if we have nothing but friendship, that’ll be okay because at least we tried. I just can’t stand you hating me.”
He squeezes his hand in mine and his eyes glow softly. All I can do is nod and offer him a sad smile.
“So do you want to go back to my house and fuck now?” he asks matter-of-factly as he reaches to take a sip of his beer.
I choke on my drink. “Cameron,” I splutter. “You just completely wrecked that beautiful speech.”
He laughs and holds both of his hands up. “I’m joking. I’m joking.”
“You were not joking!” I hit him on the thigh.
He narrows his eyes. “You do have to admit that it would be fucking awesome, though. I’ve forgotten what sex feels like.”
I laugh out loud and shake my head.
“There will be no sex, Cameron.” I lift my drink in a toast and he puts his bottle of beer to meet my glass. “To friendship,” I say.
His eyes hold mine and he smiles that beautiful, cheeky smile. “To friendship, forgiveness, and new beginnings.”
Our eyes linger on each other’s, and it’s as if I am seeing the old Cameron for the first time in a long time.
I sip my cocktail as he tips his head back to drink his beer, his eyes never leaving mine. I can feel the smoulder from his gaze.
Dear God, he’s just so hot. Why does he have to be so hot?
It’s not fair.
And he hasn’t had sex since me, nine weeks ago. Holy hell, that’s going to be one hell of a sex session when it finally happens.
I wonder if he’s hard under the table right now?
Stop it, you sex maniac.
Maybe I should go…
Yes.
I should go and not be such a damn push over.
I’m not jumping back into his arms or his bed. I’m just moving forward, that’s all, and it doesn’t mean that we are automatically going to pick up where we left off. It just means that I’m not going to imagine ways of torturing him with various forms of pain now.
I point to the door with my thumb. “I should...” I pause. Jeez, I really don’t want to go, but I need to get away from him before he has me undressed and on my back in his bed. I already know that he will if I stay here and continue drinking with him. It’s a done deal.
My vagina would be completely ruined.
Hmm, wouldn’t that be something, though?
I get a vision of him above me, naked and hard, and I feel a throb of arousal between my legs. His eyes drop to my lips and I know he’s imagining the same thing as me.
“Why do you want to go, Bloss?” he whispers darkly.
My breath catches. Stop looking at me like that. I shrug as any form of intelligent reply escapes me.
“I… I should probably…” My voice trails off as I watch his tongue dart out to lick his bottom lip.
“You don’t trust yourself with me? Is that it?” he asks seductively.
I force myself to smile. “You, Cameron Stanton, have an inflated ego.”
He smirks.
“Do you really think I will beg to suck your cock?” I whisper.
He closes his eyes, puts his head back to the heavens, and groans. “Don’t even say that to me. I swear I’m about to blow.”
“Cameron.” I smirk. “We’re going home.”
He stands and raises an eyebrow. “Now you’re talking.”
“I mean… I’m going to my house.”
“That works. We can go there.”
“Cameron,” I sputter. “You are not coming to my house.”
He smiles sexily as he takes my hand in his, picks it up, and kisses the back of it, his eyes holding mine. “Let’s go.” He leads me through the crowd and out of the club where he raises his hand at a passing cab. By some miracle, it stops.
I turn to him and smile. “See you later.”
“Goodbye,” he whispers.
“Hello.” I smile as I climb in the backseat. “Can you take me to Rosemont, please?”
“Sure.” The cab driver smiles.
I close the door behind me and before I can even glance out the window at Cameron to wave goodbye, he’s climbing in the other side of the car.
My eyes widen. “Cameron,” I whisper.
“I’m just making sure you get home okay.”
“I can get home by myself,” I snap.
“Just be quiet, please.” He smiles and watches the road as the cab pulls out into the traffic.
Ten minutes later, we pull into my driveway and I nervously glance across at Cameron.
“Can you just wait here for a moment? I’m just going to walk her in,” he asks the driver.
I walk up the driveway nervously with him hot on my heels.
I put the key into the door and he stands behind me. Way too close… so close that I can feel his breath on my neck and it feels so… jeez. No. Stop.
I open the door and turn to face him. He steps forward and I step back. He keeps walking forward and I keep walking backwards until I’m pinned up against the nearest wall.
“Kiss goodnight, Bloss?”
His hard body has me pinned, and I can feel every damn hard inch of what he’s got to offer.
I stare up at him as all the air leaves my lungs.
“Cameron…” I whisper.
His eyes hold mine. “I’m not leaving until I get a fucking kiss,” he whispers darkly.
I frown as my eyes drop to his lips. “Why do you have to be so bossy?” I whisper.
He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it so that my face is tilted to his.
In slow motion, I watch as his mouth drops to mine. His tongue sweeps softly through my open lips, and his eyes close in pleasure.
Holy shit.
Then he’s on me. His hips drive me back against the wall as his tongue delves deeper. His hard cock has me pinned. The grip he has on my hair tightens and is near painful, and I feel every single dormant cell in my body reignite.
With my head pulled back, he leans down and runs his tongue up the length of my neck and a
long my jaw.
Dear God…
His lips suck mine, and I swear it’s the kiss of the devil.
Pure sin.
My body quivers in need of the domination he wants to give. He smirks sexily and licks his lips as he looks down at me. “Goodnight then, Bloss. I’ll pick you and Owen up at ten in the morning. Be ready.”
He turns and casually walks down the path before he jumps into the cab.
I watch him drive away into the darkness with my heart beating hard in my chest.
Holy fuck.
So much for restraint.
I’m totally screwed.
28
Ashley
“Dad’s here,” Owen calls excitedly from his place at the window.
“Okay,” I call back as my heart goes into epileptic fit mode. Good God, what on earth’s going to happen today? We’re going shopping for new clothes for Owen. He’s had a growth spurt and nothing fits him. Then we’re having lunch before going to the Stantons’ tonight for a family dinner to celebrate Jordana’s birthday.
A full day with him.
Cameron Stanton overload.
And a full day of me pretending not to want him. Even though I know I shouldn’t want him …
It’s official. He’s a bona fide sex god. I felt his lips on mine for hours after I went to bed last night, and that was after I stared at the mirror for an hour smiling goofily at my reflection.
I’ve been thinking on this all night, and as I see it, I have three choices. Either, I can fall hopelessly into his arms and declare undying love for him and become his doormat for life. Or, I could completely reject his advances and cut all ties other than Owen, and maybe try to move on with someone else. But, to be honest, isn’t that just cutting off my nose to spite my face? Isn’t the ultimate goal to try and work it out so that maybe we could be a united, happy family one day?
Or, three… I could try to play it cool, make him sweat for a while, and hopefully regain some trust, then maybe just… I don’t know… see how it goes?
I race to the mirror in my bathroom and take another look at myself. I got up early and straightened my honey golden hair so it hangs just below my shoulders. I’m wearing a chunky, cream woollen dress that has short cap sleeves. It’s straight and fitted, falling to mid shin length. It fits nice and I think it looks sexy without trying too hard. An annoying little voice from deep inside reminds me that this is his favorite dress.
Hell, why am I wearing it when he knows that I know that this is his favorite dress?
I’m pathetic.
Damn it, I should have worn something he hates. I close my eyes in disgust at my inability to play it cool already. I blow out a breath and reapply my lip gloss before I head downstairs. I find Cameron and Owen standing near the front door, waiting for me. Cameron’s eyes glance up and glow with affection when he sees me coming down the stairs
He’s wearing army green cargo pants and a black V-neck T-shirt with a puffy sports kind of vest unzipped. His usual expensive trendy get up. His dark hair is a mass of unruly, messy curls and his big lips are an appealing shade of come fuck me.
I smile nervously. “Good morning.”
His eyes hold mine. “Momma’s looking beautiful today, Owie, isn’t she?” He smiles sexily.
Owen smiles an over-the-top smile and nods. I get to the bottom of the steps and Cameron walks over and picks up my hand. His eyes don’t leave mine as he softly kisses the back of my hand.
Oh really? He’s just so…
I glance down at Owen and he frowns slightly as his eyes flick between us in surprise.
What is the appropriate parent etiquette for this kind of thing? How much is too much, and can you flirt in front of your child without it being weird? I’m quite sure Cameron is going overboard here.
I pull my hand out of Cameron’s grip. “Let’s go. Wouldn’t want to creep out Owen, would we?”
I widen my eyes at Cameron and he smiles cheekily and throws me a wink.
* * *
The thing about shopping with boys is… it completely sucks.
“How about this?” I hold up a shirt and Cameron and Owen both shake their heads and turn up their noses.
I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you like anything I pick?” I ask.
Owen shrugs as he sits in the shopping cart his father is pushing around the department store. We’ve been here for over an hour and only picked out one sweater.
“Because you’re picking out the daggiest clothes in history.” Cameron sighs. “That shirt is guaranteed social suicide.”
“It is not.” I rearrange the collar of the shirt I am holding and smile as I hold it up to Owen. “Look how cute you look, baby?”
Cam screws up his face in disgust. Owen rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
I slam it back onto the rack in disgust. “Well, you two pick something,” I snap. “I’m sick of my choices being rejected.”
“Alright.” Cameron frowns. He takes his task seriously and pushes his cart off into the distance as he looks around. Owen, too, begins to scan the clothes racks from his cart seat.
I follow them, distracted by my stomach rumbling.
“I’m starving,” I announce.
“I’ve got something you can eat,” Cameron says, distracted.
I stare at him, deadpan, and he glances over his shoulder and smirks.
“Dirty bastard,” I mouth.
He winks and keeps looking. “What about this?” he says as he takes a sweater from the shelf and holds it up.
I look at it and my face falls in horror. It’s a black hoodie and has a large white eye on the front. The pupil is filled with bright colours. It’s a long, skinny fit.
“Yeah, Dad!” Owen calls excitedly. “That’s totally sick.”
“I know, right?” Cam smiles. He holds up his fist and Owen punches it with his closed fist.
Oh God. I roll my eyes in disgust. This boys club thing they have going on is really getting out of hand.
“Yes, Owen, it does look sick. Like somebody vomited on it, sick,” I mutter.
“Can I have it, Dad?” Owen begs.
“Sure thing, buddy.” Cameron throws it into the cart.
I look at him, deadpan. “You do know he’s four, right?”
“Yes, so why are you dressing him like he’s eighty?” Cam mutters, distracted as he spots a pair of army green skinny jeans. He smiles and holds them up for Owen and Owen’s eyes nearly pop from the sockets.
“Yeah, baby.” Cameron smiles as he puts them into the cart. “You could wear these with your black high tops,” Cameron instructs.
“Yes!” Owen exclaims excitedly. “With the eyeball sweater?”
“That is sick,” Cam agrees.
“So cool.” Owie smiles.
“Oh my God,” I mutter in disgust. “I’m not taking you anywhere in this outfit.”
“We could wear this when we go to the skate park,” Cameron replies.
“Yeah,” Owen yells.
I frown. “You take him to the skate park?”
“Of course.”
“We go down the half pipe.” Owen smiles proudly.
My eyes widen. “You go down the half pipe?” I shriek.
Cameron flicks the peak on Owen’s cap. “I told you not to tell her that,” he whispers.
My mouth drops open in shock. “You tell him to not tell me stuff?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell her we skate on the road, Dad,” Owen adds.
“Cameron Stanton!” I snap. “What the hell? You skate on the road?”
Cameron flicks the peak of his hat again. “Big mouth.”
After half an hour and a cart full of clothes that are suitable for a trendy designer fashion show, we make our way to the fitting rooms. Cameron lifts Owen out and shows him in and organizes the outfits he is to try on together.
I smirk as I stand back. It’s so nice having someone else to help me with Owen. Jenna is fantastic, but I always try and take over because I feel
guilty that she does too much.
With Cameron, I can let him go as much as he wants and feel no guilt whatsoever.
We are in the fitting rooms and Cam pops his head around the curtain to speak to Owen. “Try these pants on first mate with this top.” He pauses for a minute as he watches him. “Do you want me to help?”
“I can do it,” Owie replies.
“Alright, alright.” Cam nods as he comes back out of the curtain. “What is it with the not wanting help thing?” he asks.
I shrug. “He does it to me as well.”
My phone rings and Andrew’s name lights up the screen. Shit. I hope his mom is okay. I haven’t had time to go and see her yet. “It’s Andrew.”
Cameron frowns. “Your ex?”
I nod as I answer it. “Hello, Andrew.”
“Hi, Ash. How are you?”
I smile. “I’m good. Is your mom okay?” I glance over at Cam as he listens intently.
“She’s alright.” He pauses. “She’s running out of time.”
My face falls. “I’m so sorry.” I sigh.
“She’s asking for you, Ash. She wants to see you and Owen.”
I blow out a breath and my eyes rise up to Cameron. “Yes, of course. I can come to New York next weekend,” I reply
Cameron frowns.
“Dad. I’m finished,” Owen yells.
Cameron sticks the new pair of pants through the curtain without even looking in Owen’s direction. His eyes are glued on me.
“That would be great.” Andrew sighs relieved.
“You can arrange for us to see her on the Saturday, if that’s okay.” I think for a moment. “We can fly down on Friday night.”
“Thanks, Ash,” he replies. “It’ll be nice to see you.”
Cameron is watching me like a hawk. “It will.” I smile as I try to act casual. “See you then.”
“Dad, I’m finished,” Owen calls.
Cameron flicks the curtain back and looks in. “Excellent, we’re definitely getting those. Now try on the jeans, too,” he mutters, distracted.
“I have to go to New York next weekend,” I announce.
“Is his mom alright?” Cameron asks.
I shake my head. “She’s asking to see me and Owen.”
He nods as he thinks for a moment. “Okay, so we go to New York next weekend.”
I frown. “What do you mean we?”
