by LaQuette
It was true, Camden’s office had prosecuted and convicted the two lowlives responsible for almost killing Elijah. The case had come across Camden’s desk. But when he recognized the name of the victim, he passed it off to another prosecutor. His father had been furious. It was a high-profile case guaranteed to garner media attention and raise his professional profile, if successfully prosecuted. But Camden knew he was too close to the case. He didn’t want to risk the assailants beating the charge on a technicality. Instead, he flexed his muscles as the executive assistant district attorney and assigned it to one of his subordinates while closely supervising from behind the scenes.
“I was sorry to hear what happened to you, Elijah.”
It was the truth. A milder version of the panic that flooded him upon learning of the attack. He’d even followed Lindsey to the hospital, pretending it was in an official capacity, even when he’d known Lindsey was there as Elijah’s friend.
Camden took a breath, his frustration over his inability to be truthful with Elijah—and himself—weighing against his shoulders and chest. He stood up, walking to the massage table, or the hard slab of elevated wood with a body pillow atop it that doubled as a massage table, and motioned for Elijah to follow him.
“When my mom broke her leg a few years ago, her physical therapist would always rub her down after her workouts. Maybe a massage would help with your stiffness.”
Elijah, still sitting on the floor, turned his head in Camden’s direction, his mouth slightly agape as he prepared to speak.
Camden raised his hand, shaking an accusing finger at Elijah. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Lieutenant. I’m offering a therapeutic massage only.”
“And the other kind isn’t therapeutic?” Elijah’s feigned innocence made Camden’s pulse jump. This lighthearted side to the serious police officer was familiar, drawing Camden in so completely.
Elijah maneuvered himself off of the floor and ambled the few steps to the table. He sat down, lowering himself to the table, never taking his eyes off Camden as he did.
Even in jest, there was something so intense about those deep brown eyes. Then and now, Camden found it impossible to turn away from them whenever Elijah had his gaze leveled at him.
Camden was about to lay his hand flat against Elijah’s clothed thigh, but then he caught what appeared to be apprehension in Elijah’s eyes. “I will not hurt you, Elijah.” The tenderness in his voice surprised Camden. Not one to play nursemaid to anyone, he couldn’t figure out the reason he was being so gentle with the strong man before him.
Maybe it was because he’d been such a jackass upstairs, or maybe it was because he didn’t think it was smart to piss off the person charged with protecting you. Whatever it was, Camden needed to reassure Elijah of his motives.
“You can’t hurt me, Camden,” Elijah whispered before he closed his eyes and settled into Camden’s touch. “You never could.”
Elijah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as the man swallowed, and Camden wondered if it was a sign of nervousness. Was Elijah lying, or was he simply in pain from overworking the muscles in his leg? Why would he lie? What could you have meant to him after one night?
A chill spilled down Camden’s spine. He stood frozen for a second, not sure why Elijah’s statement made him feel so numb inside. They weren’t longtime lovers; they were a one-night stand. They’d had a good time while they were together and owed each other nothing once it was over. That’s the way all one-night stands happened.
But Camden would be lying if it hadn’t nicked a small part of his soul that hoped and believed Elijah had mourned the loss of Camden. Because deep down, in the quiet of the night, when Camden was alone with himself, he mourned Elijah. Or more specifically, he mourned the promise of Elijah.
He didn’t know him well enough to actually know Elijah. But that night, the potential of what Camden’s life would be like if he could choose his own path, choose this man, it broke a small part of him that he kept hidden away from the rest of the world.
ELIJAH lost himself in Camden’s therapeutic touch. He was slightly surprised when Camden offered to help. As self-centered as Elijah believed him to be, it seemed out of character that Camden would know anything about using his hands to help someone else. The way Elijah pegged him, writing a check was more Camden’s speed than actually getting involved.
Camden was quiet as he worked through the knots in Elijah’s leg, kneading each muscle into submission until the cramping sensation dissipated. By the time he finished, Elijah’s leg was loose, and his body was warm with relaxation.
Elijah opened his eyes and turned to Camden to extend his thanks when he saw the sullen set of Camden’s jaw and the distant look in his eyes. Concern made Elijah sit up and place a hand on Camden’s forearm to stop him from walking away.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, trying to move away again when Elijah pulled him back. Elijah stood, and the length of their bodies touched, drawing a groan from Elijah.
Elijah had kept his response to Camden under control by picturing the perky little blonde woman who tortured him during his recovery. Despite her petite stature, she’d proven to be more than a match for Elijah’s surly mood and his bullish demeanor. Every time Camden touched him, Elijah would hear Tina screaming at him, “Either you focus on your PT, or things get ugly.”
But now, Tina’s voice was nowhere to be found as the electric heat of excitement sizzled through him, making his senses come alive with need.
“This is a dangerous idea,” Camden warned him while licking the tip of his tongue out slightly to wet his lips. Elijah’s senses slowed down the motion, allowing him to take in every inch of skin on Camden’s mouth that tiny slip of tongue swept across.
Elijah sucked in a breath through widened nostrils, hoping to find a way to keep himself in check. Camden was right. This was a bad idea, and if Elijah didn’t walk away now, he knew he’d lose the battle waging between his mind and his body over keeping his dick in his pants.
He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Camden’s proximity while simultaneously reprimanding himself for not stepping away. Removing himself from the situation would be the smart thing. Walking away the way Camden had would keep them both safe. Unfortunately, his brain clocked out at that exact moment, leaving Elijah with nothing but a long-denied need that demanded satisfaction.
You can do this, Stephenson. It was one night. That’s all.
Elijah repeated that mantra in his head for a few more seconds, just long enough to convince himself he had this infatuation with Camden under control. But when Elijah’s gaze locked with Camden’s and he saw the wounded flicker of pain in the depths of the man’s blue eyes, smart left the building, and his need to protect Camden took over.
He couldn’t say exactly how it happened, but he buried his fingers into Camden’s dark strands, pulling him into Elijah’s arms.
Elijah placed gentle lips against Camden’s temple, smiling as a quick shiver passed through him. Camden set his hand on Elijah’s forearm, carefully leaning into the barely there kiss.
“Elijah,” Camden whispered again. “This is such a bad idea.”
He pressed his forehead to Camden’s as he positioned both thumbs on either side of the man’s jaw and moaned, “I know.”
Chapter Eight
ELIJAH pressed gentle lips over Camden’s mouth for a brief second. He pulled away and released the shaky breath he’d been holding. Electricity still lit up Elijah’s senses like a torch when he touched Camden. It was disarming. What kind of man could cause so much need in Elijah with a caress of his lips?
The kind I need to stay away from.
Elijah’s instincts were seldom wrong. His inner voice always kept him out of harm’s way. Well, as long as he listened to it, it kept him out of trouble. Listening to that still, small voice that helped him discern whenever danger was near had spared his life a time or two. And yet now, even though it tugged at his mind, begging for his undivided attent
ion, all Elijah could do was see the sexy lawyer in front of him. All he remembered was the sweet taste of Camden across his lips.
Elijah moaned aloud. The sound smothered the warning voice in his head. He tightened his fingers in Camden’s hair, latching his mouth onto Camden’s in a fierce press of lips against lips. If this would stop, and Elijah knew it should, Camden would have to be the one sensible enough to bring this to an end. But if the desperate way he kissed him back was any sign, Camden didn’t seem to care about sensibility either.
If either of them had been thinking straight, instead of just responding to the need their frenzied touches created, they’d have made the few steps it would’ve taken to reach the guest bedroom on the other end of the basement. There was a couch and a bed there, a cushioned place for them to devour each other against. But the fire threatening to consume Elijah rendered the thought of moving painful. The massage table pressing into the back of his thighs would have to be good enough. It was that or the floor, and his recently aching leg put the kibosh on that idea the second it tried to form in Elijah’s mind.
During the brief instant Elijah had taken to map out where this could take place, Camden’s hands snaked down his chest and continued traveling until they reached Elijah’s waistband.
“Eager much?” Elijah didn’t need for Camden to answer his question. The way his shaky fingers were pushing at Elijah’s sweatpants solidified the notion that Camden desired him. Elijah smiled more to himself than Camden at the memory of how frank of a lover Camden was. If memory served, Camden had been enthusiastic to get Elijah naked their first time too.
Camden pushed Elijah’s sweatpants down until the waistband met the middle of his thighs. He closed his fingers around Elijah’s thickening cock and gave him an eager stroke.
“Shut up before good sense ruins this,” Camden huffed. Elijah nodded his head and reached out to hook a finger behind the elastic of Camden’s sweatpants and pushed them down enough to free Camden’s cock.
Elijah closed his hand around Camden’s cock, much the same as Camden had done to him. No finesse, no fanfare, just delicious pressure and warmth. As Camden released a needy moan, Elijah grabbed Camden’s waist and pulled until their bodies were touching again.
“Come here,” Elijah grunted as he hauled Camden tighter against him for another kiss.
Kissing wasn’t something Elijah often engaged in with his sex partners. First, not everyone knew how. The worst thing in the world was a sloppy kisser who left your mouth and face feeling wet in that non-sexy kind of way. Second, even if they knew how, kissing required an intimacy Elijah rarely allowed between himself and the fucks he picked up here and there whenever the need arose. But kissing Camden was something spiritual. The way the softness of his lips met Elijah’s press for press with just the right amount of pressure to make Elijah want to drink from this man’s mouth for as long as he could connected to something deeper than just physical pleasure.
Each kiss ramped up the hunger growing in his belly. He could pretend the need coiling inside him like a tight spring was a surprise to him. But the truth was he’d been aching for this since he crossed paths with Camden in Captain Searlington’s office. Even though he’d been foolish enough to think the desire this man sparked in him was something he could ignore or toss aside.
The tight squeeze of Camden’s palm surrounding Elijah’s flesh pulled a needy groan from his parted lips. Camden must have understood the nonverbal “More” buried in the animalistic sound, because he moved Elijah’s hand from his own cock and gripped both of them together.
The feel of his dick pressed so closely to Camden’s was nearly Elijah’s undoing. He bit down into his lip, the sting preventing him from falling over into overwhelming pleasure.
“Close” was all Elijah could muster on a shaky breath. If he’d been with any other man, his lack of control would embarrass him. But when his gaze locked with Camden’s, he saw the same need, the same desperation in the tight muscles of Camden’s neck and face. He wasn’t the only one being swept under the strong tow of desire. Camden was right there with him.
The only thing Elijah cared about was feeling the slide of Camden’s hand around him, and how satisfying his release would be.
Two more strokes, and the familiar tingle sparked at the bottom of his spine. His muscles tensed, and the electric wave of passion bloomed and spread through his nerve endings. His balls pulled up tight, and his breath locked in his chest as the first jet of his cum released and landed on Camden’s hand.
If he’d been in control of his body, he would’ve watched as Camden spilled over into oblivion right after him. He would’ve reveled in the hungry sounds Camden was making as his cock pulsed next to Elijah’s. If he’d been able to do anything but surrender to the wave of pleasure he was drowning in, he’d have swallowed those delicious sounds Camden was making with a desperate kiss that left them both gasping for air. But he was too wrapped up in the sensations Camden’s touch garnered, so all he could do was brace himself against the massage table and hope not to fall to the floor like a rock.
Camden fell against Elijah’s chest with a hard thump, knocking them both onto the massage table in an awkward pile.
They were sticky with sweat and quickly cooling cum. If there was ever a picture of a disheveled mess, Elijah was certain they fit the bill. But no matter how much of a mess they were, relief and comfort spread through him, soothing him in ways that would make Elijah uncomfortable if he thought about it long enough.
But the soft kisses Camden placed against his cheek and the lazy way the man ran his fingers through Elijah’s loose locs made it impossible for Elijah to think about anything other than the satisfaction Camden’s touch gave him.
Camden was never to be more than what he’d been, a quick fuck for one night in his distant past. But now and then, even their thin ties or lack of acquaintanceship didn’t mask what had always been. With the least amount of effort, Camden had an innate ability to make Elijah’s body tremble.
Elijah should be ashamed of that. His lack of control should disgust him. He was a cop. A trained officer of the law. If he couldn’t control himself, then who could?
He’d regret it tomorrow. He knew he would. How could he not? Their complicated history added to the current issue of Camden’s safety meant becoming sexually involved with Camden would cost him more grief than he’d want to consider. But in this moment, the only thing his mind wondered was how long before they could do that again.
He was so fucked.
Chapter Nine
IN his peripheral vision Elijah caught a quick glance of Camden stepping out of the basement bathroom and fixing his clothing. He knew he should say something. But he didn’t think “Thanks for the hand job, but that can never happen again” would go down well five seconds after they’d peeled themselves apart.
So instead of manning up right then and there, Elijah took his turn in the bathroom to clean away the evidence of their mistake. He washed his hands and tried to avoid his reflection in the mirror. Too ashamed to look at himself, he sucked in a deep breath and resolved to put on his big boy pants and say what he needed to say.
He opened the door, straightening his back, trying to find the strength to speak. “Camden—” Camden lifted his hand, cutting his words short.
“Is this the part where you tell me that was a mistake? Because if it is, save it. We’re both adults, we both wanted it.”
Elijah nodded. Camden wasn’t using tricky lawyer speak to mince words. It was direct, clear truth. Elijah had wanted every minute. But his desire for Camden didn’t change the facts of their situation. Camden was off-limits. Elijah just needed to convince them both of that.
“It still needs to be said, though. This can’t happen again. I fucked up in letting it happen now. If anyone ever found out, I’d lose my badge. If something happened to you because I was off my game… there’s just too much that could go wrong. Camden, I—”
Whatever he was about to say die
d on his tongue when he heard a creak in the above floorboards that rattled him. He stepped closer to Camden and put a hand over his mouth, signaling Camden to be silent. Elijah kept his hand over Camden’s lips, searching for the faint sound that had tripped his internal panic button.
Elijah waited a beat, hoping he imagined the slight disturbance, the usual noises of a house settling. But the slow creak of wooden floors bearing weight above him sent Elijah’s cop senses into overdrive.
He removed his hand from Camden’s mouth and hastened to a hidden panel in a nearby wall. He pressed against it and dialed the numeric code into the waiting keypad. When the lock tumbled open, he pulled the lever on the safe door, and removed a holster. In one smooth motion, it was around his shoulders. Next, he removed a loaded Glock from the safe.
He reached inside the safe again and picked up a pair of handcuffs and car keys. He shoved the handcuffs in his pockets and handed the car keys to Camden.
“Stay here while I check it out. If you hear gunfire, I want you to leave through the cellar doors, go over my fence into my neighbor’s yard, and access the street. You should find a dark blue sedan right in front of their house. Keep driving until you find a cop or a precinct. Do not come back looking for me.”
Camden’s eyes were wide with shock and apprehension. “But what about you?”
Elijah shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. If you need to, run, Camden.”
Camden finally nodded his head. Elijah took one final, filling look at him and then moved up the stairs.
He slid his back against the wall when he reached the top of the staircase and tightened his grip on his weapon. Cold fear spread through him as he prepared to turn the corner and face the threat. A gun in his hand had never felt as heavy in his palm as it did now. A shiver of anxiety passed through him, making him glance back the way he’d come. Part of him begged him to follow Camden instead of playing hero.
