by Wyatt, Dani
Her fingers barely touched him, and he felt like one of the doctor’s had just put the paddles to his chest. Even as Cameron fought off the urge to decapitate Larry, he couldn’t fight off the sweet scent of her perfume over the medicinal, antiseptic smell of the hospital.
She consumed him, even through the haze of this much anger; she cut through like a Katana and his hands twitched to wind into her hair and pull those blush pink lips onto his.
She was talking, but the buzzing inside his head wasn’t allowing anything else in quite yet. Cameron was overloaded, her smell was like a mist that wrangled his blood and sent it like a jet spray down into his cock.
Even now, with Asher laying in the hospital, Cameron felt the power of the only woman alive that could make him hunger for her like a rabid dog.
“At least he’s going to be fine,” Victoria said.
Cameron’s brain allowed the voice of reason to cut into the din.
“Fuck. I could fucking kill him. What the fuck was that? Are they really that incompetent? They’ve pickled their damn brains.” Cameron looked down at her with each question, not expecting an answer, but needing to see her face.
A jolt of cold breeze whipped a long sable lock of her hair over her cheek and nose; her eyes barely rising to meet his. The warmth of the earlier sunshine had quickly given way to a gust from the north that signaled winter was waiting for them just around the next corner.
“You know who. It was just a mistake. I can’t think that either of them would set up Asher deliberately to get hurt. Why would they do that?” She knew both men well enough and then again, not at all. Could they be capable of setting Asher up for some reason?
Because they’re fucks, that’s why. No other reason.
“I sure as shit don’t know, but I’m gonna find out. Jesus.” Cameron felt his heart slamming against his chest wall.
Cameron swooped his arm around the curve of her neck and shoulders, pulling and guiding her until he felt the warmth of her body lean into him as they walked. He could feel the tightening in his gut as she softened and met his stride.
He ushered her without question into his Camaro, the engine roaring as he guided it out of the hospital parking lot and down Lemont Street. He was done waiting, the Camaro knew the way and he thanked Christ she was sitting there quiet and just letting him drive.
After a few minutes, she shifted in her seat.
“Where are we going? Back to the gym?” Victoria’s voice hinted at a desire Cameron longed to hear.
A question underneath the question and he was three steps in front of her.
“Fuck no. I’m not going back there. Probably end up in cuffs if I look at Roger right now. I wanted to choke Larry right there in triage, his drunk-self, all self-righteous. No, I’m gonna show you my place. And, I need to feed the mutts.” Cameron turned his head to see just the very corner of her lips turn upward.
“Really? I figured you were sleeping in your car. The dogs get the front seats.” She turned that smile on, and Cameron felt his cock start to take the reins. “Not that anyone would be able to tell. You probably have all your belongings in the trunk, categorized and organized into perfect piles.”
“Naw. Vinyl isn’t good to sleep on. Besides, my legs are two feet longer than that back seat. I’d be hanging out the window.”
“Yeah. You are freakishly large. If I didn’t know you, I’d cross to the other side of the street when I saw you coming.” She hit him with that smile again, and Cameron’s jeans twitched visibly. He had to struggle to keep his head clear enough, so he didn’t get them both killed driving into a telephone pole.
It’s now or never man. Don’t fuck up.
He could barely keep his eyes on the road. She sat too close, crossing her ankles and angling her body sideways and his sidelong glance caught her heavenly, curvy form.
I’m fucking gone over this girl. GONE. God, please, if this goes where I’m hoping, please don’t let me destroy her first time out, okay? That’d be really cool of you because you gotta know I’m not a man known for my restraint. I’m going to fucking try, but she may need some divine intervention so be there for her, ok?
Even through her smile and the jokes, he could read her.
Too many years of disappointment and being on guard left her a little fucked up in the head. She played a good game, but Cameron knew her confidence was shot to shit. It was his job to re-build her, to be sure she understood just exactly how fucking amazing she was.
She fucking needed him; she was alone. And he was in it for the long haul.
Sure, she was tough as hell. The girl straddled the fence between beauty and brains like a rockstar.
But, growing up around fucks like him gave her an armor most battalions would covet. Around Cameron, it melted. It wasn’t something she thought about; it was natural, instinctual. Somewhere deep down in her DNA she knew with Cameron; her well-honed defenses were unnecessary.
He was her soldier, her champion, her bodyguard, her warrior. Nothing and no one could get through him to her, not as long as air filled his lungs. And as much as Cameron wore those duties as a badge of honor, he needed more.
He needed to feel her wrapped around him, body and soul.
She let out a breath, adjusted her hands to wrap around her belly and a spike plunged into his heart. He also knew her insecurities about how she looked. He needed to fix that shit.
She thought there was too much of her. Not every man wanted a stick figure; bones weren’t sexy. Size two wasn’t the standard that defined beauty. Especially not for Cameron.
It was a sick lie Roger and the magazines of the world had told her since she was young. Cameron made it his life’s mission to let her know how every curve, every swell and soft valley were exactly what fueled his wet dreams.
He couldn’t count how many times his hand tightened around his granite rod, his mind wandering over every imaginary centimeter of her alabaster skin. Pumping himself, dreaming that someday he would know what she felt like as her soft heat slipped around him like a tight silk glove.
Cameron knew if he was ever given the chance to feel her from the inside — to be given that blessed gift — there was a very real chance he may fuck her until they both needed a hospital.
The Camaro bounced on its stiff 1967 suspension as the smell of the newly covered vinyl seats and exhaust filled the car. Even those heavy scents were not enough to completely cover her soft natural aroma, but it at least gave Cameron a momentary break from going through every motion of her body underneath him.
Every time the car hit a bump, the impact translated immediately next to him, softly bouncing Victoria’s ripe double D’s and sending another flaming rush of blood down low into his crotch and clenching his back muscles so tight he felt like he needed to call the chiropractor.
Fuck, man, get a fucking grip. You’re going to scare the shit out of her; your cock is practically shooting up under your belt already.
For a moment, he thought about that last Trixie blonde. The one that had tipped the rock from the mountain and sent him flying back here to the urban beauty of Detroit.
He remembered that second as he held the tip of his cock at her soaking entrance, the way she cocked her ass up into him as he held her face down into the mattress. He didn’t want to see her or hear her voice; she was not much better than using his hand.
After he had shut her up and plunged into her like a bear, he knew at that moment no one would ever wrap themselves around his cock again until he had the ultimate prize. Every fuck before was a shadow; an assisted masturbation compared to when he finally found his way into the holy grail.
“Hey! Are you listening? Jesus, even when you’re here, you barely here. How do you do that? Just go for these little vacations inside your head, leaving the rest of us talking to ourselves. You should get an ‘Open’ and ‘Closed’ sign that hangs around your neck so we know when you might actually be available.”
Cameron blinked, took a deep breath and bl
ew it out the side of his mouth as he turned down Lemont Street and toward the house he’d rented just a few days ago. Garbage cans blew across the asphalt and knocked against a steel blue, older model Cadillac with a missing front bumper and gold aftermarket trim.
God, this damn wind. Something is in the air for sure.
“What? Sorry, I was thinking about Ash.” He lied. “Fucking pisses me off. Something is going on. Larry’s a fuck, but he’s still got it when it comes to coaching. He would never have put Asher in the ring with that fucking animal. No good reason for it. What did Asher learn? How to get killed? Something stinks and I can’t put my finger on it yet, but you better fucking believe I’m gonna figure it out. Where the fuck are their heads? Up their asses farther than usual?”
He hadn’t been thinking about Asher, but as he changed the subject, he was stinging mad again, knowing there had to be more to the story.
“So you weren’t listening. Well, then, I’ll say it again. You need to stay away from the gym. I don’t know what is going on with your dad, but when you’re there, something changes. He gets dark, scary. I don’t think it has anything to do with the fight today, but I just think it is better if you just don’t come by. Things are crazy stressful already, so do me a favor and just keep your distance. Okay?”
Keep my distance. Yeah, that’s funny. You got mobsters coming around ready to collect a debt, and you’re sitting there like a cherub on the alter. Sure, yeah, I’ll stay away.
“Uh huh,” Cameron grunted as he downshifted, and the Camaro gave a low rumble in return.
He turned into the driveway of the duplex with faded blue siding and a gutter that was held up by a piece of brown twine.
“Nice. This is your place?” Her eyes were darting from the house to the empty lot next door.
A few charred tresses and a broken burned concrete foundation were all that was left of whatever used to stand there.
“Yup. It was all I could get on short notice and cash, no income proof, you know? It’s fine, come on. The garage is nicer than the house. And, it’s got a security fence all around the back yard so the dogs are cool. You know me, gotta take care of my own.”
“Lord knows you wouldn’t want to put car out on the street,” Victoria sniped with a smile.
“Damn skippy.”
Cameron slowed the Camaro into the garage. Victoria looked to see there was a steel bar that folded down across the automatic garage door and locked with a pad lock the size of her fist.
“Maybe we should hang out in here. Forget going in the house.” She gave him a cheeky smile as he opened his door and made his way around her side.
“Get out smart ass. The house is fine. I even bought furniture and had the interior painted.”
“Ohhh, well then, let me see.”
Cameron was meticulous. Most people would size him up and figure he lived like an animal. Much to the contrary, every book in his room stood organized by size from tallest to shortest.
His sheets were pulled tight enough to bounce a quarter and there was never a dish left in the sink. If he didn’t have such a violent aversion to authority, he would have been the perfect soldier. Navy seal or Special Forces would have made good use of his other skills, but he couldn’t seem to get the hang of blindly following instructions.
Inside, Victoria could feel her chest loosen, that cinderblock that sat crushing her for the last month finally felt as though it had lifted.
The paradox of the outward appearance of the house and then walking into the bright white painted walls, the hardwood floors gleaming and brand new furniture in warm brown and soft neutral tones stood in sharp contrast to the hopeless and empty world just on the other side of the front door.
“Wow. I feel like I just stepped through some magic door in Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.” Victoria spun in a slow circle. She heard the clink of his keys as he set them down and then the ‘thunk, thunk, thunk’ of the deadbolts as he secured the door.
The sky outside was as gray as a dead man’s face, but here, inside, she felt removed, encased in some force field of warmth and security. A cocoon in the middle of the desolate landscape beyond the front door.
Cameron watched as her wide brown eyes looked over every surface and her face relaxed and he felt the heavy responsibility of her care rest on his shoulders. If she could only understand the mantle that he carried. Watching her angelic stare wander around each room, his urge to possess her and claim her was so overwhelming, he felt his arms twitching to pick her up and mate her like a wolf.
She deserved a life away from all the blood and sweat and lies. Cameron drew a breath each day planning and spinning his own version of what her life should be. A world full of light and love and far away from the memories that followed them both in these streets.
“You are the poster child for OCD you know that, right? I mean, it doesn’t even look like anyone lives here. Neat freak doesn’t even come close.”
“I’ve only been here three days. It’s not ‘lived in’ yet.” He knew she was right, but still, the place would warm up in time.
“Yeah, right. I know you. It will look like this when you’ve been here a year. Do you ever actually sit on the furniture or use the kitchen? Or, do you just walk directly from the door into your bedroom and lie down like a cadaver? I can see you now --- like Hugh Laurie in his casket —”, she crossed her arms high over her chest imitating a vampire at rest. “Then you shower and leave the house again.”
“Just stay there until I feed the beasts. I’ll be right back.”
Her smile and playful tone sent a fire into his belly.
“Right. Beasts. They might sniff you to death.”
Cameron worked in the sparkling kitchen filling their bowls before disappearing out the back door for a minute. Victoria listened as he talked softly to both dogs from the porch.
Back inside, Cameron looked to see her still standing in the living room.
Since she turned the corner at the gym the day after he got back, he had not seen this. This girl, the light coming from her eyes. She was in there, and it was his job to bring her back to a place where she could live without looking over her shoulder for debt collectors or drunken asshole father figures.
She reminded him of a flower child turning in the middle of some meadow filled with wildflowers. Her head flitted back and forth, and the sable shine of her hair caught the light as it moved in the air around her shoulders.
Cameron felt the familiar thump of his pulse as his eyes dropped from her hair down to the motion of her hips, the curve of her ass as they filled out the pockets on her jeans.
He imagined his fingertips tracing along the hem of her faded gray Southside Gym t-shirt, lifting it higher until she raised her arms, and he buried his face into the curve of her chest.
A crank turned in his gut. He felt each of his square abdominal muscles clenching, the air in the room began to thicken. He concentrated to consciously move oxygen into his lungs as he watched the twinkle in her eye.
She felt it too. Victoria stopped looking around, her gaze stuck on his face like she was seeing something amazing and frightening for the first time.
He was the wreck on the side of the highway that drew your eye for miles, then, once upon it, as much as you wished you could turn away, you were helpless; drawn into the power of seeing a sight so brilliant and horrible, you knew you were forever changed.
Cameron couldn’t remember exactly how or when he fell in love with her. It happened somewhere between jumping on the back of that Russian when she was six years old and holding her as blood streamed down their faces as the helicopter took away the only soft, safe place she knew in her life.
The love formed like the blossoms on a cherry tree. You wait and wait, you know they are coming, you can feel it, see it, and then finally one morning you wake up to the most brilliant display of beauty. Cameron had felt the first small glimmer of that love as he dug his claws into that back hallway pedophile.
Since tha
t moment, he knew it would come, and then, when it did, it was all at once, overwhelming and consuming him like a flame across a horizon.
He knew the right time was now. He knew it like he knew the world was spinning under them. A moment of clarity and his own fear raked like fingernails down his back, wondering if she was strong enough to take everything he would give.
The fire and burning need he carried was not only to protect her, but to lord over her, to consume her in a sexual power that would bind her to him like a deep silver scar across his flesh.
She froze. It was that tipping moment, when you know you can either fall into the chasm and pray there is something far down in the blackness that saves you, or you can turn and run. Never knowing what would have happened if only you had the courage to jump.
“Don’t move,” Cameron spoke in a voice so thick with power; he saw her knees shake.
She could still say no, but he knew she wouldn’t. Something this torrid could only smolder so long before it ignited and even her trepidation would not be enough to keep the flames from consuming them both.
Cameron took three strides, the long tendons in his neck already hard and taut as he clenched his jaw in restraint. He’d dreamed of this moment, imagined it, played it out in his mind an infinite number of times.
Now it was here, and he knew there were no words for how he felt or the way her skin looked translucent, doll like, as his fingertips grazed the softness of her neck.
Every woman that came before her disappeared. They were faceless and nameless. Compared to her, they never existed.
He watched a momentary flicker, a shadow that passed over her face, but Cameron stood square, warding it off because this time there was no fucking way he was letting her turn away. It was too real, almost like a new universe had been constructed just for them, just for this moment.
15
The whole waiting dance was done. Cameron grabbed onto both of her hands, his long fingers intertwining with hers as he did his best not to stare down at the way her t-shirt pulled across her chest.
