Finally Found

by Nicole Andrews Moore

  Her eyes narrowed. “Trust? Trust you?” She tilted her head as if she was considering it. Then she whipped around and hurried to the kitchen.

  She was shaking her head as she considered his harmless request. Trust him. Right. Her sister had trusted him. Her sister had slept with him. Then Cin never heard from him again. Honestly, she didn’t know what hurt her more, that he had chosen her sister over her, or that he had hurt her sister. It was really too close to call.

  That’s why she decided not to think about that. Instead, Cammie decided to focus on preparing food. That was her outlet. Whenever she needed thinking time, time to release and decompress, she cooked. Cin ate. And that’s why she was voluptuous, big in all the right places. Cammie, on the other hand, cooked and cleaned. She stayed thin with the lean dancer’s body. That was why she stopped gymnastics and spent more time working on ballet. Then she broke her ankle, thus ending what might have been a promising career with some company.

  It was all for the best. She had never been as passionate about dance as she had been about food. She hated performing, being the center of attention, but she loved being behind the scenes, spreading happiness, fulfilling hunger. Her food was a treat to the plate, palate, and soul. Huh. Maybe she could incorporate that into the advertising.

  Minutes later, Adam had slowly walked through the door. He held his laptop in his hand. “We could work on sending out the evites now,” he suggested quietly. He was baffled about her reaction.

  Again he was left to wonder what he had ever done to her. She had said they never slept together previously, and after their experience the night before, he had to believe that he would have remembered that. She was incredible. She was simply unforgettable. Already he wanted more. Much more. This week wasn’t going to be long enough. There had to be a way for him to keep her around at least long enough to tire of her. How long could that possibly take? Most of them couldn’t last more than a few hours. Oh, but with her there were plenty of mysteries to unravel.

  Cammie looked up from the mushrooms she was slicing. “You do like mushrooms, right?” She watched him nod. “Because I make this incredible mushroom risotto that I thought might be nice to go with a pan seared herbed pork chop.” She shrugged.

  “Oh, I hate pork.” He watched her for a reaction.

  “Really? You are the biggest pig I know? How can you hate pork?” She had snapped at him so quickly that he could only imagine that the emotions had finally come to a head.

  “I was joking about the pork. I like pork chops.” He stood there looking at her, waiting for a similar response.

  She smirked some; he imagined she realized she had overreacted. “I still think you are a pig.” Then she turned away and started crushing garlic.

  He started to comment, but then he decided against it. He wasn’t ready to confront all this. Maybe he could just win her trust. Maybe it was better if she didn’t trust him. He had never been the marrying kind in the past and there was little chance that he would be ready first time out of the gate. Keep the peace. That was the goal. Keep things pleasant. See what the rest of the week had in store.

  Dinner was quiet. Soon he realized that it would be quiet as long as he allowed. There was a decision to be made. One of them had to break the ice. In his case, he had to break the ice queen. She hadn’t spoken more than three words since their interaction in the kitchen. He had watched her and she seemed lost in thought.

  “So, we are already getting responses to the evite. It has been overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is talking about what a wonderful idea it is to hold a cocktail party to kick off the holiday season. You’ll be meeting some of the guests at the tree lighting. It should be a good night,” he commented.

  “Yes, I think so, too,” she said as she picked at the risotto.

  “Dinner is really tasty. This is restaurant quality food. No wonder you want to be a caterer.” He studied her. She was staring off into the fire.

  Talking about business hadn’t worked. Complimenting her hadn’t worked. He was fast running out of options.

  “Cammie, what is it? How have I pissed you off now?” He sighed and laid his fork on the side of his plate.

  “I snapped at you,” she said seriously. “I hate apologizing. I hate being wrong. I hate making mistakes. You absolutely bring out the worst in me.” She sighed heavily. Copying him, she laid her fork down beside her plate and leaned back.

  While he watched her, he realized how difficult it must have been for her to admit all of that. “So what?” She stiffened and he realized that she had taken even those words wrong. “Not your feelings. I’m sorry that you are feeling embarrassed at your reaction. Can I let you in on a little secret?” He leaned in and gestured for her to do the same. It looked like she was trying not to smile as she leaned in, too. “I don’t bring out the worst in you.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “You don’t, huh?”

  “Nope. I bring out the real in you.” He leaned back and smiled warmly as he laid his arms on the arms of the chair. “For someone who is used to putting up a façade, for someone who is used to setting her feelings aside and trying to be what someone else wants her to be, rel can be frightening, completely unsettling, and seriously challenging.” He shook his head. “Sorry, doll. I bring out the best in you. I love you all fiery.”

  She chuckled. “My parents named me Chamomile. Cammie is my nickname. I was the baby who never cried after birth. I slept through the night instantly. I was, by all reports, a joy to have around.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” he said with a smirk.

  “My parents often claimed that if my sister had been born first, I never would have happened. According to their recollections of that time period, she was miserable…colic for hours every night for months. We were only fourteen months apart. They claimed that was further proof that I let them alone.” She laughed some. “I’m not sure what I was getting at there. Why did I bring that up?” She tapped the table for a moment. “Ah, yes. I’m supposed to be all soothing and peaceful, but never around you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with these emotions. You remind me of my brother. You are the older sibling, right? He is so serious, so refined. How Haley ever fell for him is beyond me.” He knew that he probably wore a far off look. It always happened when he thought.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Cammie seemed surprised.

  “Yeah. She is pretty special. They are lucky to have each other.” He looked at her seriously. “And I’m lucky to have you. The meals alone are worth the aggravation of dealing with your ever fluctuating moods.”

  He worried for a moment that he had gone too far. Instead, she chuckled. That was what he hoped for. The tension was broken.

  Though they didn’t fall into bed together at the end of the night as he might have hoped, they were in a much better place. They were nearly friendly. That was a start. A strong start.

  Every time that Cammie checked the phone on the nightstand she was disappointed with how slowly the night was passing. She hadn’t heard a sound from the master bedroom in a long time. The television was off. There was no rustling of the sheets. There was no creaking of the floor. It was pure silence.

  Finally, she gave in and stepped into the hall. She tiptoed to the next door at the end of the hall. Glancing about, although she had no idea why, she checked the knob. It turned easily in her hand. She eased the door open, not sure where the bed was in relation to the door. She never did get that tour. When she leaned into the room, she found Adam lying there under the blankets. He wasn’t wearing anything on the top half. That much she could tell from the blanket pulled up to the middle of his bare chest. He had one arm folded behind his head. His other arm was on top of the covers. Her eyes followed the length of his strong bicep until she found his hand, wrapped around his semi. She knew it was just a semi because it had been significantly larger the other day.

  Was it warm in here? She all but had to fan herself. Why in the hell was she so aroused by this man? H
e was so…frustrating and not even close to worthy. She studied his face, and realized how completely different he looked when he was asleep. He was relaxed, not that he had ever looked tense before he spent an extended period of time with her, but he was so calm. She wanted to run her hand over his brow, plant a kiss on that forehead. He was sleeping soundly. What would it hurt?

  Slowly, she leaned over him, inhaled his scent. This was a man, a pampered man. He smelled like something out of a dream. Her eyes closed as she brought her lips to his forehead. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Emboldened, she brought one hand up to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. His breathing changed slightly, his head turned toward her hand. She started to pull away, was completely ready to flee to the safety of her room before he discovered her standing over him like some love struck groupie. As she drew back, she saw his lips.

  They hadn’t kissed…not really. He had planted that kiss on her nose, and that brief one on her lips when she was dangling from the tree. It had taken all of her willpower not to go limp and fall from the limb at that point. She wanted to feel his lips when it was safe…like now, when he would never know, never be able to use these feelings against her. So she gave in to impulse. She brushed his lips with hers. Pausing, she hovered over his mouth until she was sure that he was still asleep. Then she leaned in one final time.

  He had felt her as soon as she entered the room. He was so acutely aware of her presence although he had no idea why. It was all he could do to continue to feign sleep. The hand behind his head was fisted. He clenched and unclenched it as he tried to stay as overtly still as possible. When she kissed his forehead, his eyes flew open, but because hers were closed, she didn’t know. Then her lips on his nearly undid him. What had once only been a semi erection was now a full-blown hard on. He pushed on it with his hand. Finally she brought her lips to his once more and he could no longer contain himself. Without thinking, his arms captured her, and he rolled, dragging her onto the bed and immediately covering her body with his.

  Staring at her face in the faint moonlight, he wondered what he saw there. Her perfect small full pink lips parted ever so slightly as her tongue darted out to wet them. It was one of the most inadvertently erotic moves he had ever seen. His stomach clenched. He had to taste her, all of her. He had to know every piece of her and make sure every piece of her knew him, too.

  Without speaking, he bent and kissed her lips. He parted them, urging them to open further to accommodate his tongue. Her head fell back as her torso arched more. His hand was caught in her hair as he pulled her head towards him once more. He kissed her softly, sensually, from her temple down to her jaw line. He paused to nibble on her lobe and whisper in a husky voice, “Damn, I want you.”

  Cammie was completely boneless, his living doll. He could move her at will; direct her as he desired. Oh, and he definitely desired. Within minutes he had unbuttoned the long sleeved pink thermal sleep shirt she wore. The last button ended at her navel, but that is where his attention began. He kissed and licked around her belly button, admiring her flat abs. He slid his hands inside the long opening while he kneeled between her bent spread legs. Gripping her sides, he slid his hands up steadily higher until he reached her shoulders and he slid the sleep shirt off, opening her completely to his gaze, allowing him the opportunity to study her in a way he had been too shocked, too excited, too nervous to do the last time.

  Perfection. Cammie was absolute perfection. If he had to choose from Playboy centerfolds and Maxim models, between her and any other woman on the planet…it would be her. Every time, she would rise to the top. Her back arched again, the chill in the air…or maybe dare he hope…her excitement had her nipples hard and at attention. Tired of staring longingly, he was ready to partake.

  Sitting back on his knees, his hands found her waist and her cotton bikini thong panties. Though he intended to simply slide them down her waist, in his excitement one side ripped, and in the excitement of the moment he intentionally tore the other. He expected her to yell or object or voice her displeasure.

  Instead when she spoke, she was all but writhing on his lap, rubbing her buttocks against his erection while murmuring, “Off. Yes, off…” There was a desperate edge to her voice. Thinking he’d see just how desperate she was, he slid a hand down her inner thigh, until he reached his destination. Pressing his palm against her, he was surprised to feel her grind against his palm. So, he slid his thumb into her slick opening. He could feel her clenching against him and he inhaled sharply.

  Though he would have liked to take off his own boxer briefs looking all suave and collected, he was fumbling and yanking, dragging them down his thighs, making a mental note to never wear anything to bed again whenever Cammie was around. He really needed to get his other hand back, but she was rubbing against it and sliding up and down his thumb. He knew that while she might forgive the destroyed underwear, she would most certainly complain if he left her in this state while he removed his. There was really only one thing to do.

  He leaned over and buried his head between her thighs. Inhaling the scent of her, he was soon licking at her folds, sucking on her clit and tugging ever so gently. She was writhing in ecstasy, agony, and ultimately orgasm. He just knew it. He already recognized her tells, the way her breathing changed, the way she went limp. If he played his cards right, she would stay. She’d have to stay. He’d make sure she couldn’t move.

  So, Adam moved slowly up her body, brushing his hard torso along hers until he could bury his face in her neck and enter her while gripping her waist. She inhaled and spread her thighs wide, clearly happy to share her body once more. “Ah, you do trust me,” he murmured against her ear.

  “No,” she cried as she shook her head emphatically. “Impossible.”

  Driving deeply into her he realized her hips were rushing up to meet his every thrust. “That feels remarkably like trust to me.” His hand found her breast and he brushed back and forth over her nipple with his flat palm.

  Again, she shook her head.

  He pushed harder and harder into her. Their movements grew wilder, more passionate. He stared at her beautiful face, her lips, parted as she whimpered in pleasure, her eyes closed tightly. It was as though being with him truly pained her even though she responded to every bit of his attentions. Her legs were wrapped around his waist as he gripped her shoulders and pulled her hard against him one final time as he erupted deep within her.

  They were close to the edge of the bed. He slid out of her but held her close against him. His feet dropped to the floor. As he stood, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he hung her upside down. Cammie was still limp. Her eyes were barely open. A smile played at the sides of her lips. Still, she said nothing.

  “This is trust, doll. You know I won’t drop you. You aren’t even trying to squirm out of my arms. You let me come inside you. Even if you are on the pill, you trust that I wouldn’t pass along some disease. Admit it, you trust me.” He stared down at her. Her hair was brushing the floor. Her legs were wrapped around his waist. “If you don’t trust me, then we never should have done that to begin with,” he said assertively, gesturing to the messy bed.

  For some reason, her trust, her faith in him mattered more than anything at that moment. He watched as her hands touched the floor. She released her legs from his waist and straightened them until she had kicked over and completed her back walkover. She stood before him, naked, her hair spilling around her shoulders looking gloriously disheveled from their lovemaking, a healthy pink glow on her cheeks.

  As lovely as she looked at that moment, the effect was completely spoiled by the scowl on her face. “You are such a dick,” she said. “Why do you always have to ruin everything?” Without trying to collect her clothing, she walked with her shoulders back and head held high, naked out the door.

  The next day was tense. Cammie made sure to be busy and inaccessible every time that Adam came into the kitchen. She made him a sandwich, but left it and him to ea
t alone in the great room. She shooed him out of the kitchen every time it looked like he might be there longer than five minutes. It was a blessing in disguise to have Sam and Haley show up late in the afternoon.

  Sam walked into the house through the kitchen door with Haley by his side. He froze when he saw her hovering over the stove, stirring something in a pot while consulting her phone. “Oh, you must be Cammie. I didn’t recognize you…” His voice trailed off and she could only imagine what he was thinking.

  “Hey,” she joked, “just because my parents stuck me in a hot pink bustier, that doesn’t make me a dumb blonde. It just means I had an unfortunate childhood.” She winked.

  Haley walked over and gave her a hug instantly, which both shocked and pleased her. “I feel like I’m supposed to welcome you, but from the looks of it, the roles are completely reversed.” She glanced about. “Is there anything I can help you with? I am pretty good in the kitchen.”