Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series)

by Mann, Marni

  So I told him about Cameron’s painting and the history he had with Lora, and the way I’d felt when I viewed her naked body splayed across his canvas. His expression stayed completely aloof while I spoke, and his sharp features remained still. When I finished, I expected him to voice his opinion. He didn’t. He continued to watch me as I uncomfortably shifted in my chair, my feet tapping his carpet and tugging at each of my fingers unsure if I had said too much.

  I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  “I know I’ve only met him a few times and I don’t really know him, but I haven’t seen the love only on your face; I’ve seen it on his, too. There’s no doubt that Lora is a challenge. But so am I, Charlie. You’re forgetting that.”

  I hadn’t forgotten. Not at all. I just hadn’t mentioned it.

  “If it wasn’t her in that painting,” he continued, “it would have been someone else you’d be jealous of. At least you know what you get with her, and he’s been completely honest with you. You’ve just got to remember that it’s you he wants now, not her.”

  The tension in me broke. “You’re right.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  I didn’t know about the love part, but I believed everything else he said. And now that the conversation was over, it just proved to me how much my friendship with Dallas was strengthening. This was how it was supposed to be between us. Our sex had been a complicated stage that I didn’t regret, but this was the phase that felt most right.

  “Thank you.” I said it quietly, but my tone expressed my sincerity. And he knew me well enough to know I was thanking him for a lot more than just his advice.

  His smile spread from his eyes to his mouth, and I knew he understood. He lifted his bottle. “Another one?”

  I looked down at my hands, surprised that the glass was completely empty. I didn’t even remember taking a sip of it. “How about we go out? We can grab some food and head downtown, my treat?”

  “You’re taking me out?”

  I laughed at that. The only time we used to go out was when I was too sore to fuck—and that hadn’t been very often. Dallas had a way with my body—a knowledge, a talent, a desire that was as strong as mine—and spending time in public had just delayed what I really wanted. When I thought about it more, it was pretty strange that we were in a completely different place together now.

  A better place.

  “Can I?”

  “You know I never turn down an offer for food” He stood from the couch, grabbed his jacket from the hall closet and put it on.

  As I followed him, I glanced around the apartment. The last time I had been here, most of his stuff had still been in boxes. Now that it was finally all unpacked and set up, there was something missing... somewhere around the wall above his couch. Where many of his other nooks were filled with framed jerseys, photographs, even pieces of art that he had bought, that wall was nothing but a blank space. I’d never created anything for him before; he’d asked me to several times, but I’d always put it off. It never felt like the right thing to do for him. But it did now.

  It’s time, I thought.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  I turned toward him, meeting his happy gaze of hazel and ash. As I took him all in, comparing the place we had been in to the space we were headed, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  CAMERON WASN’T HOME WHEN I RETURNED to the apartment, so I scrubbed all the makeup off my face, brushed my teeth and got into bed. As the sheets and black satin comforter fell over my naked body, a chill spread through me. Cameron always kept the temperature on the cooler side, which made for too many icy layers. I got out of bed and put on a pair of his boxers and one of his T-shirts. I almost never wore clothes when I slept, but even the beer wasn’t keeping me warm tonight. With the TV on and a pile of down pillows fluffed under my head, I sank into the mattress and flipped through the channels.

  I wasn’t much of a TV person. That was due in part to Lilly; the television in our living room had usually been broken, and she’d never had enough money to get it repaired. In my later years, after the hours I worked and spent at school, I welcomed my bed and complete silence…and my fingers. No TV necessary. But Cameron enjoyed watching it before he went to sleep; there was a large one hanging on the opposite wall from his wooden, platform king-size.

  With its light illuminating most of the open space, my eyes moved to the right side of the room. Hanging directly above the loveseat and ottoman was one of my paintings, Naked. I had created it while I was working at the mansion and it took place on top of the bed that was in my wing. My face was pressed into the mattress; my hair splayed around my cheeks so no one knew it was me. But Cameron knew. He had purchased the piece at my first exhibit; the two side-by-side freckles that were on my shoulder where my bra strap usually rested had told him it was me. Once the inspiration for the work had been revealed and where it had originated from, I figured he would want to take it down. I did; it reminded me too much of how deep my darkness ran. But for Cameron, it represented the moment that his feelings for me had really started to grow. So he left it up as a showcase. I offered to change the piece, to create a replica that took place on a different bed under different circumstances. But he didn’t think it was necessary.

  Naked was the only thing in this room that was mine, and even that had been purchased without my knowledge and hung without my consent. When I had moved here from my apartment, I hadn’t brought anything with me but my clothes. The few pieces of furniture that I owned, I donated. I’d bought them with the mansion’s money, and it just felt wrong to keep any of them. I hadn’t really wanted any of my clothes either; I’d wanted a fresh beginning, and I was slowly achieving that by replacing my wardrobe with the money I made from the sale of my art.

  Despite the entire place having a masculine, industrial feel throughout, with its cool tones and straight lines, I felt comfortable here. The only reason I could think of was that I had found a home in Cameron—not in his apartment or in his studio, but in him. And he took care of me; he never allowed me to pay for anything, or to chip in with the mortgage here or at the studio. Not even the utilities. And he never let me pick up the bill whenever we went out. I offered every time, and he always rejected it.

  I had never been spoiled before, had never been taken care of other than the moments I spent inside the mansion, and I had definitely never lived in a place as luxurious as this. As much as I wanted my independence in order to prove to myself I would never be Lilly, Cameron made it easy to accept what he offered. But it never felt like any of the things in here were mine, regardless of how many times he referred to them as ours. All of it was his. And that wasn’t going to change until I added touches of me throughout the apartment, or until we found a new placeone we chose together. We weren’t there yet. But once we were, the balance of responsibility would have to change.

  My eyes fell from Naked to the clock on the nightstand. It was just after two a.m. The next time I saw the bright red numbers, it was well past three. I didn’t remember my lids getting heavy or the moment the beer had finally forced them shut, but they popped open when I felt lips softly kissing my cheek. The TV was no longer on; Cameron had cracked the shades just a bit so the light from the adjacent buildings seeped through the slats and reflected off the walls, glancing across the bedding and striping his face. He was sitting at my side, his hand under the comforter and sheet, rubbing slow circles over my navel.

  “Clothes?” he asked.

  In that small amount of light, I searched his face, hoping he wasn’t upset by how I had acted earlier. My departure wasn’t the way I normally left our apartment. “I was freezing.”

  His fingers reached under the thin T-shirt and glided up to my chest, stopping at the small space between my breasts, then moving back to my stomach. “All I could t
hink about the whole night was doing this.” I felt a sharp burst of pleasure come from my nipple as he wrapped his fingers around it, tugging as it hardened into a small bud.

  My mind was on his hand, but it was also on the painting he’d created for Lora and the way it had made me feel. Then I remembered my conversation with Dallas. I didn’t want to think about Lora anymore. I wanted to forget that any of it had even happened. But I wanted some assurance that it was my body he craved, not hers.

  “You only thought about my nipple?” I asked.

  His eyes pierced mine while his hand dropped down my body, landing on the boxers that I wore. He didn’t take the time to dip under the elastic waist. He rubbed through the cotton, directly on the spot that throbbed. “This, too. Lots of this.”

  I was finally starting to push Lora out of my head, but I still wondered: what they had done tonight, where they had gone, what had kept him out so late? He deserved his space and his freedom, and I truly believed I trusted him. But I couldn’t kill my curiosity, and I didn’t want it to turn into suspicion. And because I didn’t want him to think I was questioning or doubting him, I kept those thoughts to myself.

  With his hand still between my legs, he leaned down and brushed his lips over my mouth. “I can taste beer through your toothpaste.”

  I could taste red wine through his.

  “I had drinks with Dallas tonight.”

  “At his place?”

  “We started there, then we went to a bar.”

  His fingers stopped circling and his abrupt exhale spread over my face. His body tensed, and as his lips hovered over mine his eyes closed. “Did you know you’d be going over there when you were complaining about me going to Lora’s?”

  Complaining? I wasn’t sure if that was exactly what I had done…not out loud, at least. But plenty of that had occurred inside my head. He read me better than I realized.

  “Yes,” I answered. “I knew.”

  “Do you think that’s fair, Charlie?”

  I couldn’t ignore the coolness in his voice or the way his movements had completely halted. Or Lilly’s voice that crept into my head between everything else.

  You’ll never be good enough for him, Charlie. You’re just like me.

  “No…it probably wasn’t,” I said, trying to block her horrid tone from my ears.

  He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes again. My lids shut as well and I took in the silence that was finally in my head, and the one that passed between us. Despite how each of us felt about Dallas and Lora on a personal level, they were hindrances in our relationship. Cameron had given me his assurance; I needed to give him the same.

  I lifted my hand from under the blanket and set it on his leg, inching my way up his thigh until it reached the bulge in his jeans. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  His lids shot open, the expression in his eyes told me I’d just given him all the reassurance he needed.

  “While I was with Dallas, this is what I thought about,” I whispered, closing the gap between our mouths until our lips finally touched. I briefly pulled away. “Touch me, Cameron.”

  I immediately felt the tension in his muscles dissolve, and the tips of his fingers slowly crawled up to my naked chest and clamped the tiny mounds. A little pain was always involved in our intimacy; it heightened my passion. But I knew this was more than him just giving me pleasure. He was reminding me that my body was his. I responded, arching my back, giving him full access to whatever he wanted to pleasure…or hurt.

  “I need more,” he breathed. “I need to taste your pussy.”

  The orgasms his mouth gave me were some of the best I’d ever had. I thought about his tongue almost as much as I fantasized about his cock. But tonight there was an urgency in my body and it hungered to be filled. Filled with all of him, not just a prolonged flicking from his tongue.

  Sitting up in bed, I reached for the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it over his head. I didn’t notice if it was a sweater, a button-down or a long-sleeve. I just wanted his chest free from it. A tight beanie covered the short, shaved strands of his hair. I yanked that off as well. I stood in front of him, his legs dangling off the side of the bed as I tore at the thick metal buckle of his belt and hauled his jeans down his legs.

  “They look better on you,” he said, his head pointing toward my boxers.

  I glanced down, remembering that I was dressed in his clothes, the boxers loosely hanging from my hips, the T-shirt sagging around me. When dressing for Cameron, I normally wore something much more revealing, silk or lace and extremely fitting to my body.

  “I was freezing and just grabbed something”

  “I’m serious. Seeing my clothes cover the spot that I want to lick is sexy.” His tone changed. “I like you like this: natural…a little innocent, even.”

  An innocent girl wouldn’t stare her man in the eyes and slowly strip the clothes off her body, moving her hips to a silent beat. She wouldn’t straddle his naked lap, placing his tip at her entrance and her breasts against his mouth. But that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t ignore his request to lick my pussyI fully intended on giving it to him. I was just planning on taking him at the same time.

  His hands went to the middle of my back while he ate his way across my chest; my fingers landed on his shoulders, digging into his skin as the ache became almost intolerable. My nails dug into his ink; with each nibble from his mouth, I bounced a little farther and let the tattoos sink even deeper into my mind. They covered the top half of his upper body, branches from the tree on his back crept over his shoulders and down each bicep. It reminded me that no matter how well we knew each other by now, there was still a layer of secrecy…the mystery was seductive, powerful. Erotic. But so was my desire to know the truth behind his tattoos; they served as a reminder that I still had so much to learn about him.

  When my eyes reached the end of his ink, they took in all his strength, the power I felt from him as he pushed against me. Cameron didn’t work out for as many hours as Dallas; he didn’t drink protein shakes and monitor every bite of food that went down his throat. He didn’t need to. He went to the gym in our building every morning; he ran. And he spent a great deal of time pumping into me. All of it was enough to keep him in perfect shape. His outline was molded by muscle and it was a hardness that easily held my weight and protected me whenever I was near. It dominated me in a way that I needed.

  “Take it, baby,” he mumbled with a full mouth.

  As I looked down, he glanced up and his hand moved to my lip, pulling it out from between my teeth. I didn’t realize I had been chewing it. It was my signal of surrender. I knew how close I was to giving into his demand. I may not have wanted the prolonged tease from his tongue, but I was definitely up for more of the temptation below that pressed against me.

  And as much as I lusted over this man, relived in my imagination the things he could do to my body when I wasn’t anywhere near him, it was more than just wanting to bury myself, my thoughts or my fears in an orgasm. What we had was deeper—much deeper than I’d ever gotten with anyone. Our connection was real; I had a genuine desire to be closer to him, to feel the presence of his skin without it rubbing on me, and to hear the words that poured from his mouth. And I tried to show him that by being less aggressive than I had been with everyone else, by controlling my constant urge to reach for his dick. Because of his past he only liked calculated movements, not surprised ones. I tried to honor that at all times. It meant that I let him lead our fantasies for the most part, taking the pleasure he gave me instead of initiating it.

  But tonight, I was in control and he was giving me the freedom to do whatever I wanted. So I ran my tongue over my lip, tasting the spot where his thumb had just rested. I swallowed his taste as it swirled with the small amount of liquid in my mouth. And then I placed my hands on his thighs, bearing my weight, my heels pressing into the mattress behind him, and I lowered my body, taking him completely within me.

  His
head briefly fell back as I went in for my second thrust. “Your pussy is so tight. Damn, Charlie. Damn…”

  I bowed into him as his words coursed through me, resonating in the bottom of my stomach where the pulsing had begun.

  I wasn’t good at handling jealousy. I didn’t know how to truly understand and process my emotions. I wasn’t really sure what love felt like outside of what I had experienced with Emma.

  But sex? That was something that just came to me naturally.

  My hips didn’t just bob; they ground forcefully, circling him inside of me. And as my wetness spread over him, an overwhelming flutter palpitated in my core. His responses were groans. Mine matched his…though they were much higher pitched and much, much louder.

  “Fuck…me,” he breathed and his hands moved to my hips. They weren’t there to steer me; he knew I had this. A cadence came from me whenever I was on top of him, a deep steady climb and fall with each stroke. They were there for the same reason I had stabbed his shoulders earlier. It was a reaction from a feeling that took me to a place where I was no longer in control.

  He tilted his hips upward, giving me a new angle that filled me even more. It was as though he was reaching the end of me. We both felt it, the tightness when he buried himself up to his base and the emptiness when I reached the top.

  To keep me close, he wrapped my face in his palms and covered my lips with his, in a slow, passionate dance. Even when our movements were fueled by a pounding desire, he always showed a bit of softness. His lips took what they wanted from mine before wandering to my breasts. The combination of the two sensations pulled me closer. I had felt the nearness before his teeth had even found my skin.

  “Cameron…”

  His eyes dragged up my body until they reached my stare. “Say it again, baby.”

  I broke contact, my nipple submerged in his mouth, and the site jolted the sparks of warmth from my stomach. I dug my nails into his thighs, my feet pushed even harder into the mattress and I arched my back, preparing for the build that was only seconds away.