He nips my neck. "Good, because so do I. Exploring new places to eat is a guilty pleasure of mine. I've done it alone for years, but I'd rather not continue to. I would imagine bragging about the food found at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant is so much better when there is someone who actually experienced it too. I've gone on travel ventures just to eat at places I've seen on TV before."
I turn in his arms, a smile inching across my face. "You watch Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives...don't you?"
He tries to hide a smile. "And if I said yes?"
"I would say you're a man after my own heart."
He laughs out loud. “Then I guess it's okay to reveal that I'm secretly a nerd at heart. I'm also guessing it's safe to assume you have watched it too.”
I bite my bottom lip, my heart going wild with excitement that we actually have something completely normal in common. "I'm a total nerd at heart."
His eyes quickly scan my body. "Hmm. I don't think so. You'll have to prove it. You could be just trying to make me feel more manly over the fact that I admitted to watching the Food Network channel."
"What if I told you I used to have a huge crush on Guy Fieri? I even watched Guy's Big Bite for a while." I close my eyes at the memory of me looking over my shoulder with the remote ready to change the channel as if I was watching something totally inappropriate; to avoid being made fun of by Ben, before opening them again. "I used to get so hungry, but that didn't stop me from watching it. There is just something about a man that can cook."
His cheeks become round under his eyes, but his mouth remains closed. "What?"
He bursts out laughing, as if he's been holding it this whole time. "Too much info?" I ask with a hint of laughter in my tone.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest, my warm cheek pressing against his bare skin as I wrap my arms around his waist, my hands resting just above his swim trunks. I try to discretely snuggle against him, because he feels amazing: just the right amount of muscle tone, a smooth chest, and his heartbeat is slightly erratic, but I wouldn't dare bring it up, from fear that he may pull away. "I don't know that I would admit that to too many people," he teases. "Most girls would say Channing Tatum or Justin Timberlake, but you, beautiful, are the first that I've ever heard a response like that from. Definitely a nerd at heart."
I laugh against his chest. "Are you trying to tell me you never had a weird childhood crush?"
"Nope. I was hiding my sister's Victoria's Secret catalogues under my pillow and spying on her friends when she had them over."
I pull away to look him in the eyes. My heart flutters. "So you aren't an only child either?"
"Nope. I have an older sister. I don't usually refer to her in front of just anyone. She writes articles for a pretty big..." He stops and briefly looks around, then back at me. "A conversation for another time. Okay?" My shoulders drop a little. I like when he gives me bits and pieces of his back history, giving me a peek into who he is. Suddenly it hits me that we most likely are being filmed. Dang. I really had forgotten up until now. He's trying to protect his family's privacy.
I nod. "I just figured out what we're doing until bed," he says, completely changing the mood back into something light from the direction it was heading.
"What's that?"
He grabs my hand and pulls me through the house, toward the stairs. "Showers and then a night in with Food Network. What do you think?"
I think I love you... That's what I think.
Did I really just think that? Gah, I'm such a girl. I shrug it off nonchalantly. "Sounds good to me. Meet you on the couch in fifteen?"
"It's a date," he says, melting my heart just a little. "Go ahead. I'm just going to lock the doors and then I'll be up."
"Okay." I bite my bottom lip as I glance at his mouth, wishing he would kiss me, but then take off up the stairs before I have a chance to look pathetic. As soon as I rush into my room and barge through the bathroom door, I slam it and press my back against the closed door.
A date...
I squeal, just before slapping my hand over my mouth. I don't care if it's a date in the living room. It's a date nonetheless; maybe not the first, but the intimacy of TV watching and cuddles feels like it. Hiking up a mountain trail is, well, work. Thank goodness I shaved everything this morning. A shower shouldn't take me very long.
Only ten minutes of my normal fifteen and I emerge from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, steam following closely behind. Now would be the perfect time for him to barge in my room like earlier, but I have a feeling he won't. Making my way over to the suitcase and duffel on my bed, I begin digging through the clothes, looking for something to put on.
I wonder if it's weird that I want to look cute even though we're not doing anything. I mean, I guess it'd be stupid to put on actual clothes, but I don't want to do the whole mismatched Pajamas either. I'm standing here, staring into the bag, and running out of time before it becomes noticeable that I'm up here primping.
Something that looks like thick cotton in a baby pink catches my attention. I grab it and let it fall open. It's a nightie, but it's a more casual piece of lingerie - something you could actually sleep in. The straps are wide and the neckline is round instead of V cut, giving a little more coverage. It's completely solid in color except for the breast area, which is done in a floral that reminds me of that Simply Shabby Chic pattern. I kind of like it, and it feels comfortable.
What the hell...
I let the towel drop to the floor and pull it on. The snug fit around the breasts and the tight band that runs underneath to act as support confirms that it's comfy. I run my hands down it, until they reach the ending of the fabric at my thighs. Am I trying too hard? Isn't sexy kind of the point of being here?
I glance in the mirror to look at myself. To my surprise it actually looks kind of classy. I take a deep breath. "Just do it. Quit being such a wuss," I whisper. "It's time to move into another level of play."
I quickly dig through my small bag of beauty supplies, until I find a ponytail holder to throw my hair up into a wet, messy bun on my head before I can change my mind. Once secure, I start to walk toward the door when I remember I haven't put on underwear. Okay that I'm not leaving.
I grab the first matching color I can find and pull them on, adjusting them into place. My phone catches my attention, lying on the nightstand. When I light up the lock screen there is a missed call from Meredith and a text from Saxton. I'll call her back later. I'm more interested in reading a text from the person living in the same house.
As the sound of the television comes on downstairs I open the message box.
Saxton: I have to be careful what I say in relation to my family since we are being filmed. Getting to know you I may cut myself off a few times, because I don't feel like I'm working as I normally would, so it's not because I'm hiding things. For their privacy and the sensitivity of my career I have to be careful what true details of my life I reveal to other people...like my real last name. What I was trying to say was my sister writes articles for a big women's magazine in New York City, where she also lives.
My shoulders drop slightly. I get it, but just when I think I'm getting to know him I'm brought back to the reality that I really don't know him at all.
Me: I get it...
Almost instantly another message comes through.
Saxton: Do you?
Me: Yeah, I do. This is just a little harder than I imagined. I want to know you. I'm just not sure how...
Saxton: I have an idea...
Me: I'm listening... Well, reading.
Saxton: If you want to know me personally, as in things outside of my life in LA, then just send me a text at random times and I'll answer. I'll do the same. We'll just make it a game. In this business you don't want people knowing your most intimate details like family and address or phone information. There are crazies out there. When you become part of the public eye, protecting your privacy becomes your number one goal. On here, ask me anything...<
br />
Me: Anything?
Saxton: Anything...
Me: Maverick isn't your last name?
Saxton: No, it's my middle.
I pause, wondering if I should really ask. I never even thought of a pen name. No one asked me. It's not like I would have known it was an option. Maybe they make it up for me, like assign me one.
Me: Will people know my real last name?
Saxton: No. I already spoke with Michael about that last week when it occurred to me. He’s in the process of giving you a pen so your private life can remain private. It will probably be something simple like a last name switch for merchandise labeling like me, since I already refer to you by your first name.
Me: Okay.
My phone dings again.
Saxton: It's Cambridge by the way.
Me: What?
Saxton: My last name.
I stare at the phone, unsure of what to say back. First thing that pops into the mind can't be the worst.
Me: Thank you for trusting me enough to know you. The real you. I would never betray that trust. It means a lot to me.
Saxton: Get down here.
Me: Yes, sir.
I smile, tossing my phone down on the bed. It's showtime...
I've never told anyone here my birth last name aside from legal binding documents that required it. That's a huge ordeal for me, and to be honest I'm not even sure why I felt the need to tell her. There was one thing I promised my family and that was that I wouldn't drag them into this world. I gave them my word that I wouldn't tarnish the last name I was given by running it through the dirt, making a mockery of my family. Still, my family is everything to me, even though I don't see them but a couple times a year. That was a sacrifice that I made by doing what I do. That's not on them.
I hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, turning my head just in time for her to come into view. Oh my god...
I quickly stand, a little taken back. My brain is completely frozen, unable to process what I'm seeing. She looks incredible. "You okay?"
I clear my throat. "Wow."
It's all I can muster at the moment. My eyes veer to her full rack, completely covered aside from a little cleavage, and showing a faint outline of her hard nipples. Sex appeal amplified is what that is. This is innocence wrapped with a pretty bow. Fuck, she's hot, and that color on her...
"Saxton?"
My brain finally decides to work, my eyes returning to hers. "Huh?"
"Is something wrong?" She looks nervous.
"No, why?"
"You aren't speaking."
"I wasn't expecting this view."
I grab her hand and pull her toward me roughly, until her body becomes flush with mine. “What were you expecting?”
“A ratty oversized tee shirt and a pair of faded pajama bottoms.”
“Oh. Disappointed?”
“Are you kidding? Sometimes you stun me. This, I have no words for.”
“You aren't wearing a shirt,” she says, making an observation.
I smile, placing my palms on the small of her back, holding her against me. "I don't wear a shirt at night. When I go to bed the sweats will come off too, and I’ll look exactly like I did when I called you last night." She wraps her arms around me, placing her hands flat on my back, just below my shoulder blades.
Her lips part. "I like you without a shirt better anyway." She's staring at my mouth. I can tell she wants me to kiss her, and as hard as it is I'm not going to, because if I start I won't stop. That's what she does to me. She brings out the animal in me. I've been sucked, fucked, and stroked more times than I could ever remember, but I've never felt more like a teenager than I do with her.
"So, we're in luck," I say, trying to sway my thoughts, pulling her toward the couch. With her looking at me like that, I'm very likely to cave. I already have so many times it's embarrassing, to be quite honest. "It's in the middle of an episode right now, but it's a marathon."
She glances around and smiles. It's one of those breath-taking smiles: one that can't be faked. She's happy, and it shows. That does something unexplainable to me. I like seeing her happy. "You really went all out, didn't you?"
I smirk. "What kind of man would I be if we had a movie date without popcorn and pillows?"
She laughs. "I guess you're right. TV just isn't the same without popcorn, especially watching them eat delicious concoctions, sometimes made from the most random things. Actually, I'm not sure I could go on another date with a man that doesn't bring the popcorn to movie night."
"See. Nailed it. You have no excuse now."
"God, you're so cute. You even have bottles of water and everything."
"Cute is not manly, beautiful. Baby pandas and polar bears are cute. Not men. Rule number one. A man's ego is sensitive. You can call me handsome, hot, sexy, hung, or hell, even a beast as long as one of those other words precedes it, but not cute. That's something a girl says when she's being asked out and trying to let him down easily. Think caveman, not puppy."
She laughs again, but this time a small snort escapes. Her eyes widen as she slaps a hand over her mouth. Her cheeks start to change color. I think my version of like just went a little further...
I pull her hand away from her face and shake my head. “Imperfections make a person more attractive. Quirks make you different from any other girl. You just gave me a piece of you. I like it. Always be you.”
She stares at me, obviously unsure. Her flushed cheeks still show her embarrassment. "Guys don't come with instruction manuals. We all have different likes and dislikes, so if you think something as simple as that would turn me off, then you're wrong."
Now would be the appropriate time to kiss her...
I place my hand on the side of her neck and lean in to kiss her, soft and brief. I look her in the eyes. "Popcorn is going to get stale."
She starts to close her eyes, but stops herself. "Okay."
I sit, patting the couch beside me for her to do the same. She does, just as I grab the remote and the large bowl of popcorn and place it in my lap. She tenses as I put my arm around her on the back of the couch, making it really hard for me not to laugh. "Does this make you uncomfortable? I have seen you naked, you know."
"No. It's just...old habits die hard I guess."
"Did your boyfriend never do this?"
"He wasn't allowed to touch me. It was a rule in my parents' house."
I place my hand on her shoulder and pull her closer. "Well, this isn't your parents' house and there is nothing wrong with innocent intimacy anyway. This is called dating...unless you want me to stop, of course."
After a brief pause she reaches into the bowl and pulls out a handful of popcorn, shaking her head, and then she shoves a few into her mouth. "Good, because I was willing to start a debate to avoid it."
With that phrase she finally relaxes in my arm. I dim the lights with the remote and then un-mute the TV, just as a new episode is starting, that red convertible driving down the stretch of roadway as it always does at the beginning and end of every episode.
She pulls her feet up on the couch and snuggles into my body. "Are you cold? I have a blanket."
"No. You're warm."
I can feel her breathing against my chest. My heart rate begins to accelerate. I could get used to this. I like it; too much. She fits perfectly, as if she was kind of made to go there. "I can't believe you really watch this. Most guys would think it is stupid."
"I'm not like most guys, Kambry."
"I know. I can tell," she whispers. "And I'm glad."
I stare at the television, wanting to tell her everything about me for some crazy reason. She makes me want to talk, to open up, and to actually attempt to trust a woman again, but why, I have no idea. There is nothing completely out of the ordinary about her. She just makes me want to. She makes me want to be the old me...but circumstances buried that part of me long ago.
***
I wake up, my back a little stiff and my arm numb. A fruity smel
l wafts through my nose: her. I look down at the top of a headful of blonde. I have no idea how we ended up like this: her head on my chest as if I'm her pillow, her arm thrown over my waist and her leg draped over mine, and my arm around her. I'm not sure how we both even fit on this couch in a lying position; we just do.
The tingling needlelike sensations in my arm tells me I need to get up, but I don't want to wake her, and worse, I don't want to move. I breathe out. I may have to give in to my sexual want for her on a regular basis, but the rest, I kind of want to take slow. Call me crazy because that makes no sense, but it's just a feeling I can't ignore.
Maneuvering my body slowly, I slip my arm from behind her and inch her head to the cushion, before easing over her body and standing. "Sax..."
Damn, I love when she calls me that. I don't know why. Maybe because no woman has ever called me that before, and when she says it, it comes out as if she's called me that her whole life. It's natural.
Grabbing the remote I turn off the television, leaving the spotlights on dim so I can see. The half-eaten popcorn and almost empty water bottles are sitting on the coffee table. I slip my arms under her body and lift her off the couch, cradling her to my chest. "My pillow," she mumbles, as she snuggles her face back against my chest.
"I can be your pillow," I whisper, before walking toward the stairs, climbing them slowly and one by one until I reach her bedroom. The room is lit, but only by the bedside table lamp. She must have turned it on before she came downstairs.
Placing my knee on the bed, I lay her in the middle and pull the white down cover and satin sheet down beneath her, before pulling it over her body. Her eyes crack open, but just barely. "Sleep with me."
I lean down and kiss her forehead, already hating myself for being a damn pussy. "Not tonight, beautiful, but soon. Get some sleep."
"Okay," she says groggily, and turns away from me, making it so much more tempting to crawl in behind her.
I rub my face in my hands as I stand. "Dammit, just go to your room."
Before I can change my mind, I turn and walk out, making myself walk to my room. My eyes land on the crumpled bedding, reminding me of earlier. "Hell..."
Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1) Page 29
