by Selena Kitt
I let out a very strained giggle. “You have no idea.”
We walk on in silence for a while, my thoughts drifting from Bobbie to Evelyn. My mother’s passing had meant little to me at the time. I didn’t know, let alone fully understand, the gravity of her loss until Bobbie had passed and I was twenty-three years old without any parents. Okay, my parents didn’t really qualify as parents most of the time. But the bottom line was that even if I wanted them, they were gone.
I notice that Tristan starts falling behind me, and I slow my pace so he can catch up. I look at him as he studies my face for a moment.
“A penny for your thoughts?” he says. He’s smiling, but his eyes still show their concern at my tears.
“I have paid a therapist thousands for my thoughts, and you offer up a penny.” I giggle and blush. His smile grows bigger, but the concern is still there. “But thank you for that. And to be honest, I was actually thinking about Evelyn.”
“Who is Evelyn?” he asks, cocking his head at me. We come back together and stop. He sits down in the sand, stretching out his legs. Patting his leg he says, “Have a seat.” Looking at him dubiously, I turn and lower myself onto his lap. He leans back slightly and I turn to my right so that I can face him.
“Evelyn is my mother.” He looks at me, a puzzled expression on his face. “She passed away when I was sixteen.” He shakes his head. “Don’t fret, Tristan. I wasn’t close to either of my parents. Evelyn passed away from a cancer that neither Mark nor I were aware of until after her passing.” He’s stopped smiling. He appears as though he to wants to say something, but can’t quite find the words.
“Cami…I…I am very sorry.”
“Please, Tristan, it’s all right.” I can feel my eyes starting to become thick with tears again. I try to blink them back. But the tears aren’t for Bobbie or Evelyn or even myself. They are for the look in Tristan’s eyes. “Tristan, what are you thinking about? You look like you’re upset.”
He doesn’t answer me, simply reaches up to cup my cheek in his palm. He gently strokes the stray tear from my eye. “Please don’t cry, Cami. I’m sorry that I asked. I didn’t expect it to be this—”
“Stop. I’m fine.” It’s more of a plea than an order. “It is the look in your eyes that is bringing on my tears. Please, talk to me?”
“I am not sure where to start. I never knew my father. He was gone long before I was born. My mother raised me by herself. She took pride in caring for herself and me. She loved me exactly like a mother should love a child, and it pains me to see the pain in your eyes at the loss of a mother and father who did not care for you the way that they should have.” He’s speaking so quietly that it’s nearly a whisper.
I can see in his eyes that he has more to say. “Please go on,” I tell him.
“She passed away during my freshman year in college. Much like your mother, it seems, mine had been sick for years, but had never told me with what, or why. I could only guess at the pain she suffered from not being able to be honest and tell me. She had always said it was better for me that I not know.”
I place my hand on his cheek. “We’re both a little messed up, huh?” I say, smiling slightly.
His chuckle comes out a little breathy. “Yeah, I guess we are. Do you miss them?”
That is the million dollar question that I’ve been trying to answer myself. But I decide to have my best go at it, thinking that if I talk it out I can find a way to understand. “I do miss Bobbie some. But only because he finally started to turn a small leaf after I had left the house for college. It wasn’t much, but we communicated via email. He filled me in on how things were going with the business and so on. It was not a great reunion, just simple little things. Now that I get none of that, I miss it.”
“I can understand that, more than you know,” he says. I smile then.
Both of us coming from parentless situations could be a good thing, I suppose. It is, after all, something we have in common. And we’ll never have to fight about where to have Christmas. Wait…did I really just think that?
Tristan takes a deep breath. The energy shifts between us, and I can tell he’s about to change the subject. Which is just fine with me. I’ve had about all the heavy conversation I can take for one night.
“Tell me, Cami, since you’re here, and not in Phoenix, what in the world shall we do for your birthday?”
I smile big. It’s the perfect subject to lighten the mood. “Well, Beau and Mick will be here. We can hang around the hotel and the island, or we could…” Words fail me for a minute. “I don’t know.” I giggle. “It’s not the birthday girl’s job to plan her party.”
He is beaming now. “Well, I’m completely confident that we can come up with something.”
“Oh, really? Like what?”
Tristan
Instead of answering, I lift my hands, grabbing hold of her wrists, and gently pull her into me. Slowly I bring my hands around her back, holding her to me. When we were standing a little while ago, I really enjoyed the feel of her body against mine. Pulling her closer and tighter to my body, I start to rub her back, mindful of her corset and concentrating more on her shoulders.
She lets out a deep sigh. I am so comfortable sitting here like this with her. I kiss the top of her head, content to say nothing for a few minutes.
Listening to Cami talk about Bobbie and about her past nearly broke my heart. I am still very angry at Bobbie for what he did, not understanding why it is that he would act the way that he did toward her. If Cami’s mother had anything to do with Bobbie’s unwillingness to be a part of her life, then maybe that is why things changed after Evelyn passed away. Cami didn’t say much about her mother, but I imagine that she knows very little about her.
Bobbie left this world far too soon, and he owed his daughter an explanation for his actions. She deserves closure, and it hurts that she will never have that. I wish there was some way – any way – that I could give her that. The only thing I know I can do is care for her, respect her, and give her all the things she needs.
Financially she seems pretty set. Though I don’t know what her trust entails or has entailed over her previous installments, I know that Bobbie was pretty well-off. I’d been to his house before, and no doubt when he died, that house was worth about forty million dollars.
“You said earlier today that the role of CEO was bequeathed to you via Bobbie. How did that come about?” I ask her. I’m not sure that this is the best time to bring this up, but I’m curious, and I guess I would rather discuss it now, while the emotions are fresh and raw, than try and dig them up later.
“His will. He left Mark and me each fifty percent of his net worth, plus his house. I got the business, and Mark took his money and ran. He and Bobbie never had any type of relationship whatsoever. He was eighteen when Evelyn passed away, so he took his cue and ran off to college.”
“But if Mark was older, why did Bobbie give you the business? Clearly it was something you either don’t want or weren’t ready for.” I want to keep her talking, in an attempt to understand her better.
She doesn’t hesitate. She pulls back to look at me. “Bobbie had written his will in such a way that if I didn’t take over as primary shareholder of Bold, the business would be broken up and sold with all profits going to charity.” She starts to chew on her tongue ring again, but after a moment continues. “Trinity, Vincent, and a few of the board members had determined that it would cost more than Bold was worth to buy out of its existing contracts, and no one, not even me, had the kind of capital it would take to do so. We found the loophole that meant that I could be named as CEO and primary shareholder without full-time participation in the business itself. It was decided that I would be the ‘non-active’ CEO until I decided to step into the role as a functional CEO. Which is something I’m being pressured into by Trinity and Vincent as we speak.”
“Why not take over the role?” I ask, trying to understand. “Would it really be that difficult?”
/> She shakes her head at me. “No, at least that is what I’m being told. Trinity seems to think that it would be more of an image than anything. Bold hasn’t pulled in very many new clients because it is starting to be obvious that it is without leadership. If I step into that role, Bold would stand a very good chance of being brought back to the top of its game. The only thing really holding me back is that I have no clue how to run a business, and I’m afraid to give up my freedom.”
I smile at her. “Well, I don’t know what went on with Bobbie in his office, but he was out in the public a lot, attending events. And a lot of times he was there to support his clients. I have no doubt that if you Google Bobbie’s name, a lot of articles and images will come up about his presence in and around Hollywood. Maybe that might help with some insight on what he did.”
“Maybe, I don’t know. I wanted to be able to get my feet wet in the business, build up to it, but Trinity seems to think that I have a keen business sense and that I can do a lot of good for Bold.”
I laugh. “After this morning, I have no doubt that what she says is true.” I begin rubbing her back again, attempting to coerce her forward, to bring her head back to my chest and snuggle into me.
She complies and says, “I’m starting to think that you, along with Trinity, are right, and it is another of the reasons why I came out here. I don’t need the money, but I need something constructive to do. The work on my condo in Phoenix is nearly done, and I spend a lot of my days doing very little. It’s actually getting a little boring.” She laughs.
“I can imagine it would get boring after a while.”
“I’ve thought about returning to college for a doctorate, but given that I have an amazing job already lined up, I didn’t see the point.”
“You don’t have to decide today. But it’s nice to know what your thoughts are on the idea. When you say you don’t need the money, what do you mean?” My heart skips a beat. “I’m sorry, Cami, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Stop, it’s all right. I mean that when I received the first installment of my trust fund, it was worth far more than its intended amount. Mick has the Midas touch when it comes to finances, and he has nearly tripled the amount of my trust. Combined with the inheritance, the sale of the house in L.A., my stock with Bold, my condo, and other investments, if my net worth were made public it would land me on the list just inside the top one thousand of the world’s richest. Maybe even higher. Mick manages all of that. I have three accounts that are replenished monthly from another source. I use that money for all of my expenses and whatever else I want. But believe me when I tell you that I live modestly. I own my condo free and clear, and I’ve paid cash for all of its remodel. I drive an Audi Q7 SUV, but I have a toy hiding in the garage.”
My mind is spinning over her disclosure, and I’m obviously shocked by the fact that she doesn’t hardly know, nor care, what kind of money she has. Obviously, my buying her a drink last night had less to do with money and more to do with how beautiful she was, but the amount of money she has is just…wow. Now it all makes sense: Versace, the first-class ticket, the suite, being here, her own expensive drinks. “You know I don’t care about your money, right, Cami?”
She nods. “Yes, Tristan, I know. I don’t flaunt it, and outside of Beau and Mick, you are now the third person who knows.”
“None of your other friends know?” I feel my brows knit together.
“No. Jolene and Naomi obviously know that money is no object, but they have no idea to what extent. The Q7 I drive, while it looks expensive, is still less than sixty thousand dollars. The one in the garage and my condo will give me away.”
That’s the second time she’s mentioned the car in the garage. Obviously this is something she is excited to share, so I have to ask. “What’s in the garage?”
She laughs. “A custom, purple-with-electric-green-racing-strips Audi R8 Spider.”
My jaw drops. I’m speechless. She starts laughing, and the tension of the evening with putting all of our woes out there is instantly broken as she falls off my leg, laughing uncontrollably.
“Holy shit!” I say, joining her in laughter. Slowly she starts to calm down.
She sobers eventually, and I pull her back onto my lap. Wrapping my arms around her I say, “Cami, it means the world to me that you have been so open with me tonight. I imagine that talking about Bobbie and Evelyn is very difficult. Talking about Joanna, my mom, is never an easy thing to do.” Pulling her tighter against my body, I kiss her hair again. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“No, Tristan, thank you. It’s really nice to be able to talk about it. Talking to a therapist is one thing, but to be able to talk about it with you is refreshing, so thank you.” She wraps her arms around my chest and squeezes, pulling her body further into mine.
I can feel my heart rate speed up some at her touch, spreading the warmth of wanting through my body, and I feel as though I could sit here with her forever.
I can feel her breasts pressed against my chest, her hands roaming along my back, and I can feel my dick hardening at her body being pressed against mine. My heart starts pounding harder, and I can feel my heartbeat pulsing through my growing erection. I’m slightly embarrassed that after such an intense conversation my little brain decides that now is the time to become hard again. He took a nap once we started discussing Bobbie and Cami’s past, but now, he’s ready, aching, and searching again. A perpetual hard-on is something I have grown used to in the last twenty-four hours.
Cami is looking back at me, her eyes screaming desire, want, and need. Ready and willing to have me. “Please don’t look at me like that, Cami. I know what you’re thinking, and trust me when I say this, I want you too, but I’m just not ready. Not tonight, please.”
I’m afraid that if we end up in bed before we are both ready for it, this will just end in disaster. Cami deserves to have more than a man who wants her body. While I want her body, I realize that I want her heart and her soul to belong to me.
“Tristan, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I understand and I am not ready either.”
I nod at her and bring my lips to hers, kissing her. Sweet and sensual, much like before. Desperate to control my breathing, I remind myself that I’m trying to comfort her, not bed her. Not tonight. I feel the head of my cock throb as my brain regains control of my erection. My brain and my heart are being lost to Cami. It’s a loss I will gladly take and enjoy.
Chapter Sixteen
Cami
What am I doing here? Looking down the length of my body, I can see my nipples, erect and throbbing. A warm sensation radiates out from my sex. Peering past my breasts, I see down between my legs a head of dirty blonde hair. The sensation of warm, wet licks on my cleft. My body shudders in response to a building orgasm. My legs stiffen as my orgasm builds, as the man between my legs continues stroking his tongue along my most intimate folds.
I reach down, intertwining my fingers in his hair, tugging slightly as my orgasm starts to take me. He lifts his head and I’m met with the beautiful, warm, blue eyes of Tristan Michaels.
“Come for me Cami,” he breathes across my clit.
And I come.
My eyes fly open. I’m trembling and breathing heavily. “Tristan.” There’s no response. I look down my body: I’m in my tank top and shorts, the sheets on my bed are askew, and my sex is wet and warm in the familiar aftermath of an orgasm.
“What the…” I trail off, realizing that I was dreaming about Tristan between my legs. My heart lurches at the emptiness I feel thinking about him, wishing he were here. I hope against hope that he will join me on the beach later today. Stretching, I roll over onto my stomach and search for my pillow, begging to go back to sleep. I catch a glimpse of the clock and see that it is ten in the morning. I groan.
Stumbling my way into the sitting room, I see sitting atop the dining room table two dome-covered plates. Padding over to the table, I notice that on my coffee table is
a small vase containing one yellow rose in beautiful full bloom. I smile. This has to be Tristan’s doing. The gesture is too nice to worry too much about the fact that he sent someone to my suite while I was sleeping.
Lifting the lid off of the closest dome, I see toast, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Lifting the lid off of the other dome reveals a quad stack of pancakes. I lick my lips and take a seat, diving in with gusto as my stomach rumbles.
After eating, I change into my bikini and pull my hair up. As I’m wrapping my sarong around my waist, there is a knock at the door. I freeze momentarily and my heart swells at the idea that it might be Tristan. I call out, “Who is it?” as I reach the door.
“Tyson.”
I pout. Then smile because I pouted at the fact that it’s not Tristan.
I’ve been sitting out on the beach since about eleven thirty this morning, getting waited on by a couple of cabana boys. It’s been very relaxing. Looking out across the water at the low hanging sun, I debate on whether to head on up to my room to tame my growling tummy or finish reading this sexy scene in the book I’d started on the plane when a shadow appears over my book. I feel the hair on my arms stand on end as the electricity of his proximity sends a current through me.
“How are you not a lobster by now?” His tone is teasing, playful. He walks around to sit on the chair next to me.
I laugh. “It’s called sun block and an umbrella.” I raise my eyes to the beach umbrella over my head.
“What exactly is the point of sitting on the beach if you are blocking the sun with an umbrella?” I love his bantering.
“Well, if you’ve been watching me as much as I think you have—” I smirk at him, “—then you have seen the umbrella go up and down throughout the day.” I pause to take in the muscles in his neck, shoulders, and his chest; his dragon; his pecs and abs, perfectly defined; and the tiny sprinkle of hair that runs from his belly button into his shorts. Breathing heavier than necessary I say to him, “What took you so long to get down here?”
