by Xio Axelrod
Yara had trouble controlling her breathing. Her chest heaved, causing her breasts to sway, and Cam's gaze seemed mesmerized by the movement.
His erection tented his shorts, and it was impressive. Very. And intimidating.
Still, he stared. For so long that Yara became self-conscious. She crossed her arms over her chest, and his gaze snapped to hers, his full of fire.
"What are you doing?"
"I..."
"Don't," he commanded.
Yara let her arms fall to the bed.
Cam leaned forward, bracing himself over her. His biceps were bigger than her thighs.
"Do ye have any idea, lass? Any fuckin' clue how goddamn gorgeous you are?"
Yara blinked up at him.
"Before I met ye,' he said, his accent thickening. "I was consumed with the idea of saving you. My damsel." He looked her over. "But yer no damsel, lass. You're strong and brave, and so beautiful I ache for you."
He dropped a quick, hot kiss on her lips, making her dizzy with want again.
"When I saw you come into my pub, I thought I was hallucinating. I thought, oh mate, you've really lost the plot this time. But there you were, knowing who I was, the role I played in your mess. Fearless. Gorgeous, even under all those layers."
"You knew it was me?"
"From the first second." He ran the tip of his nose across her skin and let out a slow exhale. "I wanted ye from the first moment you looked me in the eye. When you lifted your chin and challenged me, I knew I'd do anything to have you. Just like this."
He kissed her again.
"Just like this."
"Get these off." Yara yanked at his shorts, and he lifted up, helping her to push them down.
Cam rolled to his back on the bed and reached into his nightstand. He tossed an unopened box of condoms on the bed.
"Hope these haven't expired."
"Carl wasn't kidding, huh?"
He frowned over at her before seeming to get the reference.
"It's...been a while."
"For me too."
He ripped a square from a long strip and moved toward her.
"Let's fix that right now."
There were few words after that.
Cam pulled her on top of him, his hands covering the globes of her ass. Kneading them. No one had ever touched her with such assuredness, and Yara found it a huge turn-on. It didn't hurt that this was Cam, her knight in shining armor.
He'd said she wasn't a damsel, and she wasn't, but she couldn't deny that she'd come to him for help. Help he had given freely.
She hadn't expected this.
Cam rolled Yara onto her back, making quick work of the condom's wrapper before sheathing his impressive length. He was thick, hard for her, and moving with intent which Yara loved. She thought she might burst if she didn't gain access to every inch of his skin in the next two seconds.
Positioning himself between her thighs, Cam went still and stared down. He hovered above her like an avenging angel. Hair disheveled, face flushed, lips swollen and parted. She could only see a sliver of hazel in his eyes but saw every bit of his need. Recognized it as the same need that he'd awakened in her.
Kneeling on the bed, Cam ran his hands over her. Ankles to thighs, up to the curve of her hips, ghosting over her stomach, her breasts, following his own progress with that heated gaze. When his eyes locked on hers, she took a shuddering breath.
They stared into one another, and Yara had never felt so vulnerable. She couldn't find the will or the energy to hide any bit of herself, and so she didn't try.
"Want you," Cam whispered.
"Have me."
Leaning forward, he slid home, building up a rhythm quickly as they rocked together. Yara wrapped her legs around him. It shouldn't have felt so familiar. Cam knew what she liked and how she liked it. Hard and slow, fast and teasing. He pushed all of her buttons.
She carded a hand into his hair as the kissed, lightly dragging her nails along his scalp, and he groaned into her mouth. She did it again, and he dropped his head to her shoulder.
"Not gonna last long if you keep doing that."
"We have all night, don't we?"
Cam lifted his head to look down at her. "All night, lass."
Supporting his weight on his arms, he drove into her. She saw stars.
"Oh, God."
He did it again. And again. And again, circling his hips each time. Hitting her just right each time and, oh, she unraveled.
It was a pleasure bordering on pain, and it wracked her body, clenching her muscles tight around him.
Cam roared, and Yara felt him pulse inside her as he spilled himself.
"Fuck," he breathed into her hair as he collapsed over her, careful to keep his weight on his elbows. "Baby...fuck..."
Cam rolled to his back.
Yara felt him fumble for a bit before he reached over and gathered him to her. She threw her leg across his thigh, her arm across his chest, and settled her ear over his heart. It beat strong and steady as he calmed.
Hers matched his rhythm as she fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in Camden’s arms.
Twelve
Yara Spotted in Chicago
Singer Yara Bujold has -- according to reports from TMZ and MTV News -- allegedly been spotted in the Chicago area after having been reported missing in Miami several weeks ago. Police have classified her as "presumed dead" and the Chicago sighting has not been confirmed.
Anonymous sources claim that Bujold turned up at a recording studio in Berwyn, Illinois -- a Chicago suburb -- at 1 p.m. yesterday demanding to record. Apparently, she has not been seen since.
This all fuels speculation that Yara's disappearance is nothing more than an elaborate hoax, and a desperate attempt to boost sales of her sophomore album, Teaser.
A statement from Bujold's manager, Marcus Kaine, called the accusations "tasteless" and "disrespectful."
"We are deeply disappointed in the baseless, vicious rumors about Yara. She was a beautiful, gentle soul and would never deliberately put her loved ones through something this tragic, especially for financial gain. This should not be her legacy."
Kaine's comments come as plans come together for a star-studded tribute to the late singer. Some say such plans are premature.
Thirteen
There's a stranger in the mirror asking 'who are you and what are you made of?'
The last thing Cam expected to hear coming from his balcony was live music.
Yara's voice carried through the open door, floating above her light strumming of the guitar. It was a kind of mid-tempo, reggae beat that sounded nothing like the stuff he'd heard on the radio.
Even her tone was different. More earthy. Real and untouched.
It was Sunday morning, the calm before the storm, and Cam soaked in the peace of it. Last night had been incredible, beyond his wildest dreams, but this - finding her curled up in his lounger with an acoustic guitar that he'd forgotten he even had, wearing his t-shirt, her hair wild and free - this was better. A thousand times better. This was the kind of thing he could get used to.
He stood in the doorway, a coffee cup in each hand, and watched. Listening.
It felt like an intrusion, but he couldn't move away. Despite the overproduction on her commercial releases, Cam had always heard her underlying talent. Hints of it, anyway.
Listening to her as she performed for no one, making music only for herself, he was captivated.
If you want to know just how strong you are
Just ask yourself how'd you get this far
Don't let one mistake put doubt in your heart
You will learn from this and make a brand new start
The lyrics hit him in his solar plexus.
He must have made a sound in the lull between notes because she looked up. Her eyes were glazed over as if she'd been in a trance.
"Oh, hey." She smiled, and he walked over, handing her a cup of coffee.
"Two milks, one sugar."
"
You're a lifesaver."
He took the chair across from her, and they drank in companionable silence.
"I like it."
She looked up, her hands cupped around the mug as the guitar lay across her bare legs.
"Hmm?"
"The, uh, song you were singing."
She blushed.
God help him.
"Oh, it's not finished yet."
"The lyrics, they're different from what I'm used to hearing from you."
She nodded, taking a sip. "Well, that's because Marcus doesn't think that music should have a message."
"Kaine's an asshole."
"A very successful one," she added. "He knows what the public will go crazy for, and he knows how to deliver it."
"The public needs to develop better taste. What I just heard is a million times better than what he had you singing."
She smiled, it was soft. "Thanks."
"What's it called?"
She pursed her full lips in thought. "I'm not sure. Stranger, maybe."
Cam frowned. "Sounds ominous."
Her laugh was just a breath or two. "It's about recognizing yourself in the mirror, seeing all of your strengths and your weaknesses and accepting them all. Not letting your past define you, especially your mistakes."
"Have you made a lot? You're only twenty-five."
She met his gaze. "Twenty-six, and I've made enough. What about you? You're, what, thirty?"
"Thirty-three."
"Old man," she teased. "Robbing the cradle."
Cam laughed. "Wow. Hit a man where it hurts, why don't ye?"
He loved this, the ease of it. He really could get used to it.
He already had.
"Play a bit more?"
Yara set her cup aside and picked up the guitar.
Cam took a moment to admire her long, thin fingers as she positioned them on the strings. Then she started to play, and he got lost in the rhythmic repetition of the island melody.
This was a different woman. This was the artist, the creative soul. Cam was mesmerized by her, by the transformation from scared, angry, somewhat bitter charge to...this.
He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. Let her music wash over him.
They had a while yet before they needed to be anywhere.
Ages.
"Tip your head back."
Yara sat on the edge of his bed, blinking up at him with complete trust. Trust Cam didn't think he'd earned, but he was grateful for it.
Rory had stopped by to drop off the brown contact lenses Yara could use to truly blend into any crowd.
Not that she actually could, not as far as Cam was concerned. He'd have known her anywhere.
"Sorry if I'm blinking too much, I never like stuff near my eyes." She twisted her fingers on her lap, humming to herself, and Cam dropped his arms to his sides.
"Wouldn't you rather do this?"
She laughed. "Oh God, no. I'd never get them in."
Yara smiled up at him, and Cam couldn't stop himself. He leaned down and took her mouth in a breathless kiss. She moaned into it, threading one hand into his hair and arching up to meet him.
Cam broke it off before they went any further.
Yara's eyes fluttered open, and she wore the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. He wanted her to look at him like that every day from now on.
"Better?"
She nodded. "Much."
It only took two tries to get a contact in one eye, and the other went in without incident. Yara blinked as she stood in front of the mirror.
"Wow." She studied her reflection. "I look so different."
Cam stood behind her, one hand resting lightly on her hip. He met the unfamiliar brown eyes in the mirror.
"What do you think?"
"I prefer the real you, but this will have to do for now. It's only temporary."
She nodded. "Temporary."
Cam wondered if there was anything between them that wasn't.
Yara had a life to get back to, or a new one to start. Either way, there was no guarantee he'd ever see her again after this was all over.
And he wasn't quite ready to face how that made him feel.
He's grown accustomed to having her in his space. In his head.
In his bed.
Stupid and reckless and very much not like him.
It was the way she'd stormed into his life demanding recompense and then placed all her trust in him. Seemingly without a single reservation. Who did that? Who had ever been so open and so assured that he'd do the right thing?
"What's wrong?" Yara frowned up at him in their reflection.
"Nothing." He dropped his hand and turned away.
"Cam?" Her voice made him stop in the doorway.
He turned to face her, wondering why the frown was still in place. There was a constellation of light freckles that trailed across her cheek that he hadn't noticed before.
How had he missed those?
He wanted to trace them with his tongue.
"Did I fuck up? Like...really fuck up, taking off like I did?"
Camden hated the fear in her voice, the uncertainty. At that moment, he realized how much she'd been carrying. Not only since her disappearance, but for years before that.
For the first time, he could see the evidence of her conditioning, her indoctrination by Kaine. The fruit of his controlling methods. He wanted to fucking bury the guy.
He cupped Yara's shoulders in his hands, gently though his blood boiled.
The way she looked at him like he had any real answers… Maybe this time he did.
"No," he said, squeezing her. "You saw an opening, and you took it. It's not ideal, but I would have done the same in your place."
She exhaled a bitter laugh. "You would never have been in my place."
"I'm not so sure."
Cam pulled her into his arms, and hers came up around his waist. She buried her face in his chest like she'd done it a million times before. Cam's heartbeat nearly doubled and then calmed to a crawl. Just from holding her. Jesus.
He smoothed a hand over her hair. "You did what few people ever really do, Yara. You went after your dream."
She tipped her head back and met his eyes, searching them. "You don't think I was an idiot for signing on with Marcus?"
"Oh, you definitely were."
Yara's jaw dropped open. "You ass." She laughed. It was a musical sound.
Cam squeezed her tighter. "It wasn't a smart move, but you could only know that in hindsight, lass. What you did was brave, moving to Miami, leaving everything and everyone you knew behind. You had a plan for your life, and you thought he could get you there."
She shrugged, dropping her forehead back to his collarbone. "I suppose he did."
"True, but it wasn't what you really wanted."
Yara shook her head.
"Now you've got a mess to fix." Cam cupped her head in his hands and tipped her face up to his. "And I'm here to help you. We all are, the three of us."
She smiled and looked up, blinking slowly. Her gaze dropped down to his lips and back up, clouding his thoughts.
"If I forget to thank you, thank you."
"Thank me when Kaine's little kingdom is in ashes."
The grin that tugged at her mouth was wicked. Then she tilted her head, inviting him in.
Dangerous. That's what she was.
Addicted. That was him.
Fourteen
Skinners was packed by the time they arrived.
Cam went immediately behind the bar to help the one server on duty. The poor guy was clearly overwhelmed.
It was live music night. In the back of the pub, a small stage had been set up along with a pair of spotlights. A sound guy was running lines for the microphones and instrument inputs from a compact soundboard, and Yara felt a pang of nostalgia. She missed the days of small clubs and loud rooms, of competing with the espresso machine for airspace.
The musicians walked on stage, two acoustic guitarists a
nd what looked like a horn player. An interesting set-up. One of the guys opened his guitar case and pulled out a graphite, carbon fiber Martin acoustic.
Yara nearly drooled.
The clean lines, the thin profile of the instrument, it was a dream of hers to own one. For now, she would have settled for playing it.
Making sure her hair was covered, she wove her way to the stage. With the brown contact lenses to help with her disguise, she felt more incognito in the bustling crowd.
"Hey," she called over to the guy with the Martin. "That's gorgeous. Mind if I take a look?"
He smiled, a little wary.
"I won't break it, I promise."
He smiled brighter. "Sure."
The blond handed it over carefully, and Yara propped one foot on the edge of the stage, resting the guitar on her knee. It was light but still felt substantial in her hands. The neck was the perfect size for her hands, and the action was just right.
She strummed a few rhythmic chords, testing it out.
"You play?" The guy watched her as he unraveled a bundle of chords.
"A little," she allowed.
"I like that chord progression."
It was the song she'd been working on earlier, the one for Cam.
"Thanks."
Yara switched to a cover song. Bowie. She hummed along to the chords.
"You sing?"
She nodded.
"Let me guess," he teased. "A little?"
Yara smiled. "Not so much right now, but I hope to again soon."
"Our backup singer had to cancel tonight if you want to jump in on something."
It was a tempting offer, but Yara couldn't risk it.
"If I'm around, I'll think about it."
She handed the guitar back and waved goodbye before heading off to find Cam.
She found him behind the bar. He looked at home, handling the thirsty customers with ease. Yara hung back and watched for a while, admiring the play of muscles beneath his tight, Skinners tee.
Twelve hours ago, he'd given her access to all of that tempting hardness.
She wondered at the speed of it, of them. Sure, a crisis had a way of throwing people together, but this felt like more. Like it could become more.
Cam looked up, catching her gaze.
