by Skylar Hill
"Gonna make you come again and again," he murmured in her hair, his thrusts quickening. God, his dirty talk was so hot. His voice was a rasp against her ear, his beard brushing against her sensitive skin. "I can't wait to get between your legs," he groaned. "Put my mouth all over your sweet pussy." She squeezed down on his dick at the thought, unable to stop herself, unable to think about anything but his tongue inside her, his lips sucking on her clit. “Gonna make you sit on my face," he continued. "Rock your clit against my tongue until you come all over me."
"Oh, God," she wailed, and she was coming again, a hard and fast orgasm that coursed through her like lightning, racing across her body with such speed and force she collapsed against the sofa cushions, her eyes fluttering shut as it overwhelmed her.
He groaned her name, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her hips as thrust up into her like it was the only thing his body knew how to do. He threw his head back, driving into her one last time before he began to pulse inside her, the condom the only thing between them. "Fuck," he swore, half-collapsing against her, careful to hold himself up enough so not to crush her. His lips pressed against her jaw, then her cheek, then her ear, nuzzling her as his big hands settled on her skin, tugging her close.
She cuddled against him, feeling surrounded but safe. Like she'd just stepped into a very dirty-minded, very sexy blanket fort. The thought was absurd and she couldn't help but laugh a little when it struck her.
"You know, women usually don't laugh after I've made them come twice," he chuckled against her curls.
She shook her head, trying to suppress her smile. "Sorry," she said. "I was most definitely not laughing at you."
He pulled away from her, getting up to deal with the condom before coming back to the couch, enveloping her in his arms again. This time, he positioned himself behind her, his hips pressed against her ass, his lips pressed against the curve of her shoulder.
Her eyes drifted closed, then snapped open, trying to stay awake.
"Sleep," he urged, his hand stroking down her side, settling on her hip, where the poppies started. "You're going to need your energy for later."
This time, she did laugh at him. Not because she didn't believe he'd fulfill the promise, just because this was so incredibly nice, being cradled in his arms, loose and languid from the mind-blowing sex they'd just had.
It felt like everything—everyone—that came before him hadn't meant anything. Boys playing at being men. Meaningless and inconsequential.
This felt like something great. Something real.
Wrapped tightly in his arms, she drifted off to sleep, knowing she was safe. And knowing that when she woke, more pleasure was waiting for her.
Cam’s eyes fluttered open, an insistent buzzing near her head waking her. She sat up, James’s arm falling from her waist at the movement. She blinked, realizing she was in a bed. His bed.
She must've fallen asleep on the couch. But she could hardly be blamed after those orgasms. Sex with James was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She'd never come twice in a row like that before, let alone so hard. Her pussy tingled at the memory, as her phone began to buzz again, pulling her focus.
She grabbed her phone, squinting in the sudden glare as she swiped it on.
“Hello?”
“Is this Camellia Ellison?” a woman asked.
Something familiar—something like dread—began to prick at the edge of her consciousness as she snapped fully awake. “Yes.”
“I’m calling from Multnomah Memorial Hospital. We have a patient here who’s been admitted who has you listed as her emergency contact. Evangeline Ellison?”
She felt like her blood had been replaced with ice water. All sexy thoughts fled her as her entire body snapped into focus. “That’s my sister. Is she okay?”
“She was admitted to our ER about two hours ago following a car accident.”
“Oh my God.” Evie. Cam got out of bed, pawing frantically in the dark for her clothes, trying to balance her phone at the same time. Her heart thundered in her ears. Where was her skirt? “Can I talk to her?”
“She’s in x-ray right now,” the woman explained. “Please get here as soon as possible.”
“What about her injuries?” Cam asked, her voice rising in her panic as she wiggled into her skirt.
“You’ll have to talk with her doctor once you’re here.”
“You can’t tell me anything?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Okay. Thank you for calling me.” Cam’s words came out short and angry, but she couldn’t help it.
Was Evie okay? She had to be. Cam would know it if…
She would feel it.
Her breath was coming too quick in her chest, her throat tightening with anxiety as she groped in the darkness for the lamp switch.
“Cam?”
She looked over her shoulder, to find James sitting up, bathed in the sudden light.
“I have to go,” she said, finally locating her shirt at the bottom of the bed. She grabbed it, pulling it on without bothering to find her bra. She didn’t have the time. “I’m sorry. I just—“
“Hey, wait a second.” He was up and out of bed in a flash, standing next to her, his hands cupping her shoulders, forcing her to look up and meet his concerned eyes. “Deep breath,” he instructed gently, his right hand moving to press lightly against her heart.
She found herself obeying, half out of desperation, because she could feel the spiral beginning to start. Any second she’d start flashing back, remembering…
One breath. Then two. His hand rising and falling with each one, his face the only thing she had to focus on.
“Now tell me what’s wrong,” he said.
“My sister was in a car accident,” she explained, still rushing her words, almost tripping over them in her haste. “She’s in the hospital. I don’t know how bad it is. I have to go and get an Uber or catch a bus or something.”
“Oh shit, Cam,” he said. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, and then grabbed his jeans from where they were draped across the chest at the bottom of his bed and began putting them on. “Give me one minute. I just need to grab my keys.”
She blinked, taken aback as he took a shirt from his dresser, pulling it over his head.
“You’re going to drive me?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, barely even looking up from his search for his car keys. “There they are,” he reached over the bed to the end table, grabbing them. “We can go.”
Despite the urgency, fear suddenly swamped her. It was like she was eighteen again, frozen to the spot, and all she could hear was Evie’s screams.
But this time, instead of the fear taking over completely, James’s touch broke through it.
He took her hand in his. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, like he believed it. Like he was sure of it.
It gave her more hope than it probably should.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Chapter Eight
Cam
The entire drive to the hospital, she was tense and quiet, practically leaping out of the car as soon as he came to a stop in the ER parking lot.
It had to be okay. If something happened to Evie, after everything, after all that they’d been through…
Well, it would be the cruelest kind of fate, and she wasn’t going to let it happen.
James walked next to her, keeping up with her swift steps easily, and when she barged into the ER, eyes wild and searching, his hand came to rest at the small of her back and stayed there.
“I’m looking for Evangeline Ellison?” she asked at the desk.
The receptionist looked up from her computer.
“I’m her sister,” Cam continued.
The receptionist scanned the screen. “She’s been admitted,” she said. “So you want to go up to the second floor nursing station. Her doctor is Dr. Merritt.”
“Thank you,” Cam said, hurrying over to the elevator, pushing the buttons i
mpatiently. As the doors opened and they stepped inside, all the fear and worry she’d been pushing down bubbled up to the surface. “Okay. She’s not in the ICU. That means it can’t be too bad. Right?”
James reached over and grabbed her hand. He brought it up to his chest, squeezing it, and it was like he knew exactly what she needed as hopeful relief twined in her. “Right,” he said. “If it was serious, she’d still be in the ER or in the ICU or in surgery. She’s probably bruised up from the accident and they just want to keep her overnight for observation to be sure.”
“Yes,” Cam agreed shakily as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “I’m sorry. I just…” she looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. “She’s all I have left.”
And with that stark confession, she hurried out of the elevator, their hands parting. She felt the loss acutely, but then he was right there, his hand warm at her back, and they were walking toward the nursing station. She was scared, but she felt strong with him by her side.
But when they got to the desk, she faltered. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she struggled to find her voice.
“We’re looking for Evangeline Ellison,” James said. “What room is she in?”
“Cam!”
Cam whirled around, her eyes widening when she saw it was Jessica, Evie’s best friend. There was a huge bandage on the brunette’s forehead, and her arm was in a sling.
“Sweetie,” she rushed forward. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Evie’s gonna be okay. She’s…”
“Cam!”
Cam looked to the right, into the room Jessica had ducked out of, relief rushing through her as her eyes met Evie’s darker blue ones.
“Hiiiii!” her little sister crooned, waving in lazy circles and then seeming to get distracted by the movement of her own hand. “I broke my leg.”
Cam sagged against the wall, her knees nearly giving out in relief. She was awake. She was alive. Oh, thank God. Cam took a deep breath, smoothing out the worry in her face. “You scared me!” she said, when she was sure she wasn’t going to burst into irrational, relieved tears.
Evie frowned, making her look even younger than twenty. “Sorry,” she said. “It wasn’t Jess’s fault, though.”
“This drunk guy rear-ended us and sent us spinning into the intersection,” Jess said, coming to sit in the chair next to Evie’s bed. Cam carefully perched on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blankets over Evie’s uninjured leg worriedly. There wasn’t a cast on her leg yet, but it was held in some sort of brace. Where was the doctor?
“They gave me drugs!” Evie chirped.
For the first time, Cam realized her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were flushed. She kept losing focus, her gaze wandering around the room. She was completely high.
“I see that,” Cam said. “Morphine?’ she asked Jess, who nodded. “You know that stuff makes you loopy, Evie.”
Evie eyes flicked to the doorway, and then they widened. She made a whooshing sound with her lips, like she was trying to whistle but couldn’t quite achieve it in her drugged-up state. “Who’s that?” she asked.
Cam looked over her shoulder, realizing she had essentially abandoned James at the nursing station. He was leaning against the doorjamb, looking unperturbed by it. He smiled as Evie stared at him, giving her a little wave.
Evie leaned toward Cam, wincing a little at the movement. “You see him too, right?” she asked. “The sexy Paul Bunyan type dude in the door?”
“That’s James, sweetie,” Cam said. “He’s a friend.”
Evie raised an eyebrow, because she may have been high as a kite, but that extraordinary brain of hers was too intuitive for its own good. “A friend? Who’s with you at two in the morning? Sure, Cammy.”
“Shush,” Cam scolded her, trying not to turn red and failing.
“You’re blushing!” Evie crowed, pointing at her and laughing. “She likes you,” she said to James.
“Where’s that morphine drip?” Cam asked pointedly, and Evie laughed even harder. The sound was like a healing balm to her soul. There’d been a time in her life she’d feared Evie had forgotten how to laugh, though those days were long gone now.
“Oh, good, you’ve got someone here.” A man in a white coat came bustling into the room, his bald spot shining in the fluorescent lights. “I’m Dr. Merrit.”
“Cam,” she said. “Evie’s sister.”
“Okay. So your sister’s broken her leg in three places, it’s going to require surgery so the doctors can place a few pins to stabilize the bones.”
“Is her leg going to be okay?” Cam asked. “She’ll be able to walk and everything? She’s a runner.”
“She’ll probably need some physical therapy before she gets back to running, but there’s no reason to think there’ll be any permanent effects after the surgery. Except she might get pulled aside at the airport because of the metal in her leg.”
“I’m gonna be the bionic woman,” Evie sing-songed.
Cam looked over at her worriedly. She moved further away from Evie, the doctor following her. “Should she be on this much morphine?” she asked quietly.
“Unfortunately, her surgery isn’t scheduled until later in the morning,” Dr. Merrit explained. “She’d be in a lot more pain if we decreased the drip.”
“Why can’t she have surgery now?“ Cam asked.
“The orthopedic surgeon on call is already in surgery.”
“Then call another one.” It was James who spoke the words that Cam desperately wanted to say.
“Our policy for non-emergent cases—“ Dr. Merrit started.
“How is this non-emergent?” Cam demanded. “She needs surgery and you just said she’s in pain.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Ellison, but she’ll have her surgery as soon as possible. In the meantime, we can manage her pain with the drip.”
Cam bit her lip, holding back a few choice words she’d like to throw at him. “Fine,” she said.
“I’ll let you know as soon as we have an OR ready for her,” Dr. Merrit said, leaving before she could argue with him more.
“Well, that’s bullshit,” James said loudly.
Evie and Jess giggled.
Cam sighed, rubbing at her forehead. Her head was aching.
“You okay?” he asked in an undertone.
She should have nodded. She should have lied. But looking up at him, the memory of his touch still buzzing across her skin, she had nothing but the truth. “No,” she said.
He reached out, pushing her curls off her face, tucking them gently behind her ear. His fingers lingered at her pulse point, like he didn’t want to break the contact. “Then I’ll fix it,” he said.
Before she could even ask what he meant, he had his phone out and after a moment: “Hey, Aiden, sorry to call so early. I need the number of that sports surgeon you went to college with. Mark, right?”
He listened for a second as Cam looked up at him, puzzled. “Okay. Thanks. No, don’t worry. I’ll fill you in later.”
He hung up, dialing another number into his phone.
“What are you doing?” Cam asked.
“I’m getting you a surgeon,” he said, lifting his phone back to his ear. “Hey, Mark. It’s James McGowan,” he said. “Yeah, Aiden’s brother. I’m sorry to call so early but I need a favor if you’ve got the time. I’m at Multnomah Memorial, a friend’s little sister got hit by a drunk driver earlier tonight and broke her leg, but they’re not doing surgery until way later today because their ortho surgeon is busy. I don’t want the kid to have to wait hours in pain.”
“I’m twenty-one! I’m not a kid!” Evie protested, and then was promptly distracted by Jess showing her a kitten video on her phone.
James ducked his head, trying not to smile. “You mind coming down and taking care of it for us?”
Us. Just like that. A strange sensation bloomed inside Cam’s stomach—something so unfamiliar, so unknown, that she couldn’t bear to examine it.
“Thanks,” James continued. “We’ll see you in an hour.” He ended the call, smiling at Cam.
She was feeling more unmoored than ever. She wasn’t stupid—she knew he was wealthy. But the idea that he could make one phone call and have a surgeon here in an hour was a little imposing.
“You’re that important?” she asked, and she meant it almost as a joke, but it hung there and she felt acutely aware of how uncertain she sounded.
He smiled, an edge of sheepishness to it. “Not me,” he said. “My brother is, though. There are a lot of people who’d love Aiden McGowan to owe them a favor.”
“He won’t mind?” Cam asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” James said. “Aiden owes me a million favors. I can’t tell you how many times I did the dishes for him when he was down in the basement, tinkering with his inventions when we were kids.”
“That sounds familiar,” Cam said, nodding towards Evie, who was still looking at videos with Jess on her phone. Every few seconds, she could see her little sister wince a little, like the pain was getting to her.
“She a science whiz?” James asked.
Cam nodded. “MIT started trying to recruit her when she was sixteen.”
James whistled. “What did your parents think about that?”
She knew it showed on her face, because his eyes widened a fraction as he realized that was the wrong question to ask. “It was just the two of us by then,” she said, smoothly, because she’d gotten good at smoothing out the awkwardness. She’d been barely eighteen when she’d become Evie’s guardian. No one had taken her seriously at first—not the social workers, not the teachers at the school, not the counselor she’d insisted Evie see. But they’d proved them all wrong, her and Evie, together.
They’d gotten out. Together. They’d left the horror of the past behind them best they could, and now Evie was on the cusp of graduating, of achieving that bright future they’d both worked so hard for her to get.
“She wanted to stay in Portland,” Cam continued. “All her tech friends think she’s being silly.”
