Redeeming You

by Lisa Cardiff

  His lips collided with hers, catching her in a deep, urgent, exploratory kiss that left her mindless and her lips tingling. His mouth demanded everything and her mind and body complied, surrendering to his every whim no matter how inconsequential. At this moment, she’d give him everything.

  Within an instant, his hands were everywhere—running through her hair, wrapped around her hips tugging her closer, under the hem of her shirt. He successfully orchestrated a skillful assault that lit her body on fire from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Tearing at her shirt, he yanked it over her head and tossed it on the floor.

  “Take off your shirt,” she whispered as she frantically pulled at the buttons, her hands shaking like she couldn’t wait to get her next fix.

  Grinning, he stepped back and stripped off his shirt. Wow, he looked amazing. Black slashing tattoos curled up his toned arms, but his chest…she’d never get sick of looking at it. Her ex thought he was god’s gift to women, but he didn’t even compare to Cam. He looked like an unformed boy in comparison.

  Taylor’s gaze traveled the length of his body, soaking in every curve and bulge, resting at the hint of a tattoo just inside the ridge of his left hip. Her mouth went dry at the thought of tasting every delicious swirl of the tattoo playing peak-a-boo under the waistband of his pants. Taylor stepped forward, trailing kisses across his chest down to his abs, his beautiful muscles contracting under each graze of her lips.

  Groaning, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up so she was at eye level again. As his impassioned gaze roamed across her chest, she smiled inwardly, loving how much she affected him. It made her feel powerful and sexy. His hands grazed the tops of her breasts, moving slowly around her body to her back, unfastening the clasp with practiced grace. As he guided the black lacy bra from her shoulders, she watched it fall to the floor.

  “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect,” he mumbled, his eyes burning into her.

  His hands cupped her breasts as his thumbs brushed across her nipples, her body arching of its own volition. She couldn’t control her reaction to this man even if she wanted to. She was doomed from the moment he focused all of his high-octane attention on her.

  Slowly, his hands drifted from her breasts along the contours of her stomach and every single one of her pleasure-stung nerves convulsed under his calloused fingertips. Overwhelmed, she leaned into him as she felt the button of her jeans pop open followed by the slow slide of her zipper. He pushed her jeans and her panties down her hips and then her legs, his mouth trailing the descent with openmouthed kisses, slowly—too slowly—until he reached her strappy heels.

  “I’d love to leave these on, but I don’t think it’s going to happen,” he said looking up at her with a devilish grin. She wanted to close her eyes and lose herself in the pleasure promised in his eyes.

  Standing, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her bare chest against his and she wanted to rub against him like a kitten purring from the sensation of his body echoing against hers. Cam walked her backwards, not stopping until the backs of her legs hit the mattress. Kissing her, he lowered her onto the mattress, never breaking contact.

  “Your pants,” she said grabbing at his belt.

  “Not yet,” he murmured shifting away from her, dropping to his knees, leaving her alone with her legs hanging from the edge of the bed.

  She pulled her feet onto the mattress and braced her body on her elbows. “What are—” The words were lost in her throat as his hands slid up the inside of her thighs and his tongue drifted across her center. His mouth danced, twirled and sucked along her flesh, driving her closer and closer to oblivion.

  “What are you doing?” she panted, her words barely distinguishable. Her hips arched toward his mouth, seeking and demanding more as her hands clawed at the cool, starched bedding. She was strung so tight she could hardly think, much less communicate.

  He laughed, the vibrations of his mouth shooting directly into her core. He swirled his tongue inside of her and then added a finger twisting expertly and she tensed with the sensation of her impending orgasm. Time froze as everything went black except for the narrow world where her mind chased and craved the pleasure Cam eagerly provided. When her hips started to rock against him, he moved with her in perfect harmony until she shattered, moaning his name as waves of excruciating pleasure crashed through her body.

  When she felt as though she could breathe again, she opened her eyes as Cam’s hands traveled up the sides of her body over her breasts as he made his way onto the bed. She felt like liquid melting under his practiced touch.

  “Please tell me you plan on taking off your pants,” she said a little desperately as she licked her dry lips. She was tired of waiting. It felt like months rather than weeks since she had been riding on the edge of pleasure with Cam, but never getting a full taste. She wanted all of him now.

  Smiling his half grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat, he opened his wallet pulling out a condom and tossed it on the bed next to her. Without hesitating, he unfastened his belt and opened his fly, letting his pants drop to the floor. Standing before her in his black boxer briefs molded to his body, she couldn’t believe her luck. Cam looked better in person than in any one of her admittedly frequent fantasies of him. Her eyes were glued to him as he rolled the boxer briefs down his legs, leaving him completely naked and aroused for her personal viewing pleasure. There were no words.

  She couldn’t claim to be a connoisseur of naked men, but the few she’d seen didn’t have anything on Cam. Long, lean, perfectly sculpted muscles in all the right places: she couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. Then her eyes landed on the tattoo near his hip; a small black guitar formed from intricate music notes. A shiver of anticipation raced through her body as she thought about licking every little detail of that tattoo and beyond.

  No more waiting. She grabbed him by his arm and pulled him on top of her. His eyes sparkling wickedly, he looked at her as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while he teased the other nipple, gently rolling it between his fingertips. Her body was instantly achy and throbbing again and she wanted to scream with frustration. She was so close and she didn’t want to go again without him inside of her. “Now, Cam, please.”

  Pressing against her entrance, he slid his hard length back and forth until she was an incoherent mess of need. She wrapped her legs around his waist trying to force him inside her, but he held back.

  “Condom,” he muttered, his hand searching the disheveled bedding next to her body until he located the square package and tore it open with his teeth.

  Taylor exhaled loudly, trying to calm her senses as she watched him roll the condom over his hard length. At least Cam was thinking because five seconds ago she hadn’t even given a condom another thought. Stupid.

  When he finished, he braced himself over her body, his hands on either side of her head as he pushed inside her with small, shallow strokes, slowly working his way deeper, stretching her. It was absolutely delicious and agonizingly slow all wrapped up together to create a pleasurable form of torture, but she wanted more. She didn’t know what that meant, but apparently her body did.

  “More,” she pleaded, bowing her hips.

  Capturing her wrists with one hand, he pinned them over her head. Her eyes opened studying his. She didn’t like being restrained. It reminded of her mom locking her in a dark, cramped stairwell closet for hours unable to move, breathing in dust and mildew, but when she saw the heated, almost visceral look in his eyes like he wanted her more than anything in the world in that moment, her body relaxed. Cam wouldn’t hurt her—well, not physically anyway. Her heart was another matter.

  “Are you okay?” he muttered as he paused, his vivid blue eyes searching hers.

  She smiled, trying to reassure him. “Better than okay,” she whispered because at that instant she was. Cam made her feel better, safer and happier than she could remember being in a long time. Maybe that made her stupid, but she didn’t c
are. She survived everything life had thrown at her so far and, good or bad, she’d survive this too.

  Hitching one of her legs over his shoulder, his thrusts slowly grew faster, deeper, and harder until she understood exactly what more meant. The angle made every nerve in her body come alive. He released her hands and she wrapped her arms around his back trying to pull him closer to her, into her, until every part of his body touched hers, inside and out.

  Moaning, she teetered on the edge, her body begging for release even as her orgasm skittered just out of reach. His movements were beautifully coordinated and synchronized just like his fingertips moving over the strings of his guitar. And then, his hips circled—just a small wickedly teasing motion that hit the perfect spot and she screamed as an orgasm ripped through her body, the pleasure so acute she couldn’t think of anything else as almost violent spasms gripped her body. Her nails dug into his back, marking him physically just as he had marked her emotionally. Cursing, he thrust into her one, two, three more times before groaning and collapsing on top of her.

  After a few minutes, she could finally think again and she tangled her fingers in the damp hair curling at the nape of his neck as she listened to the symphony of their hearts beating against each other. Thousands of thoughts collided in her mind as she came to terms with what just happened. She hadn’t been with many men in her life; one in high school and her ex who she’d rather not think of again, but she’d never experienced anything resembling what happened between her and Cam. With Cam still buried inside her, she didn’t want to move. It felt amazing to be tucked in his arms, as close as one person could be to another person physically and, in some ways, emotionally. This was new. Intimacy wasn’t her thing, but she could get used to it.

  Cam made love like he played his guitar—passionately, creatively and with swoon worthy attention to detail, erasing every last one of her inhibitions and reservations. It was glorious, but also alarming. Alarming because it was only a matter of time before her heart craved more. No, who was she kidding? She already craved more and Cam had made it clear that he didn’t have any more to give.

  She whimpered as the alarm coursing through her body morphed into panic. She’d spent her entire life hardening her heart, promising herself that she’d never let anyone hurt her again, but here she was, lying beneath Cam, achingly vulnerable, exposed and without any walls to protect her. This wouldn’t work. She wasn’t cut out to be one of Cam’s groupies and Cam hadn’t promised her anything—not a single damn thing except fun. Getting her heart ripped out didn’t sound like fun. Fuck.

  Claustrophobia closed in, her breathing, calm only seconds earlier, accelerated again, heaving at a maddening pace. She needed to get out of there. She needed space. The shadows of the room suddenly felt as though they would swallow her whole and carry her back to that dark, life-draining vacuum of her childhood.

  Blindly, she shoved at Cam’s chest, her previous feelings of bliss long since faded into the blind panic.

  Cam lifted his head. “Am I too heavy?” he asked pushing her hair away from her eyes.

  His touch was so gentle and caring that she thought she might have whimpered. He rolled off of her and leaned on his elbow.

  “Hey,” he whispered, his voice thick like crushed velvet in the dimly lit room. “Are you mad? Did I do something wrong?”

  She turned her face away from his so she didn’t have to see the concerned look on his face. She was fucked up and no amount of pretending otherwise would make it go away. She could tattoo her entire body with stars of encouragement, but she’d still be shattered and incapable of redemption.

  “No.” She sat up letting her legs dangle off the side of the bed as she rubbed her eyes repeatedly trying to wipe away all the emotion surging through her fragmented soul. Blank. That’s what she wanted to be: blank, a complete void. Life was much easier that way. Feelings, emotions, and attachments— they were too hard. They created pain. In a year and a half with Miles, she never felt one tenth of what she did just now with Cam. Miles never stole her breath, made her heart race wildly or melted her resistance with one brush of his lips. And that realization devastated her.

  In a blind panic, she stood up and pulled her shirt over her head. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun,” she said, cringing even as she pasted a big, fat phony smile on her face. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Cam sat up, his feet hanging off the side of his bed, his face … confused. “You’re leaving? That’s it?”

  Her pants and shoes in one hand, she paused with her other hand on the door between their adjoining hotel rooms. She shrugged, but she didn’t know if he could see her in the dimly lit room. “We should probably sleep in separate rooms. It’s less complicated that way.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.” Standing up, he walked toward her, stopping only inches from her and she wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him she didn’t want to leave either, but there was only so much of Cam her heart could take in one night without developing a full blown, unhealthy addiction to him, his charming smile and his fantasy inducing lips.

  “Cam,” she said, his name sounding more like a sigh than a word. “I’m not good at this.”

  “I disagree,” he said, brushing his lips across hers and her traitorous body had the nerve to tremble. “You were very good at it.” His hands moved under her shirt, caressing the sides of her stomach and breasts, leaving trails of fire under his fingertips. “Are you doubting yourself? Maybe I didn’t show you how much I enjoyed it. Can I have a do over?” She could feel his lips smiling against hers. Damn him. Did she have to be putty in his hands?

  She leaned into him, inhaling his woodsy scent now mixed with the smell of her and sex. Nothing had ever smelled better. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No?” he said, his fingers torturing her nipples in the best possible way and the growing desire of her body warred with the damning logic of her weary mind. She desperately wanted her body to win, but she couldn’t be weak. Weak wouldn’t get her anywhere. She was weak with her mom and Miles. They trampled her and she promised herself she wouldn’t put herself in that position again. She needed to be in control.

  “Stop,” she mumbled, her voice breathless and husky from the need already building in her. Even she realized her plea was halfhearted and part of her wanted him to ignore her objection. Cam dropped his hands to his sides and she wanted to beg him to put them back on her, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words. Be strong. Be strong, she whispered in her mind repeatedly.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Tay, can you explain what’s going on right now because I don’t get it. One minute, you’re in this with me and the next, you’re walking out the door like you can’t stand looking at me.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that how you handle these things? You fuck and then you kick them out the door. I’m only following the script. I didn’t write it. You did that all on your own.”

  Cam stepped back, his face contorted in anger and maybe a little hurt too, but she couldn’t tell. She was too caught up in her own fears to see him clearly. Mentally, she was back in that place where her mom told her she was worthless and ugly and no one would ever want her. Even though she realized it wasn’t rational, she had never been able to fully shake her mom’s words. They haunted her and held her back from investing her heart in anything.

  “I don’t think we’re on the same page. Is that what this was about? Just a causal one-time fuck. No strings, nothing?” he asked, his voice icy and hard.

  She shrugged, feigning indifference even though her heart climbed into her throat, ready to explode. “I don’t know. Isn’t that your M.O.? You’re not exactly the type I should expect more from, right? I mean look at your history. It’s not very promising. I would be dumb to expect anything more.” The words were like acid falling off her tongue. She didn’t believe any of that. Cam was so much more than his history and his bad boy act and that was exactly why she needed to reesta
blish some boundaries. He wouldn’t want someone like her—someone with a truckload of insecurities and a battered sense of self-worth. She wasn’t good enough for him.

  Cam stalked back to the edge of his bed, shoving his legs into his pants with so much force she thought they might rip. “Get out,” he said, his voice deadly calm, like ice. She didn’t move. He took two steps toward her and she involuntarily flinched. The anger emanating from him was so present and tangible that she could suffocate in it.

  He slammed his hand against the wall next to her head as though he couldn’t stand the sight of her and he probably couldn’t. Nobody could. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Room.” Each word came out of his beautiful lips with so much anger and betrayal, she felt the shattered pieces of her heart breaking even more. Could a heart turn into dust? It sure as hell felt like it.

  Dazed, her hand fumbled with the doorknob, suddenly feeling slick and awkward under her hand. When the knob finally turned, she swung it open, slamming his door and her door as quickly as possible behind her, trying to erect as many physical walls and barriers between her and Cam as possible because the mental ones were long gone. Cam was under her skin and now he hated her as much as everyone else in her life.

  Tears streamed down her face with a vengeance and whether they came from embarrassment, anger, fear, disappoint or some warped combination of all of them, she couldn’t tell. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she act normal for once?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As Cam downed the third small bottle from the hotel mini bar — two vodkas and one gin—he realized it probably wasn’t a smart combination, but he’d worry about that tomorrow. He didn’t understand what the hell just happened. Even as he dropped the third bottle on the floor next to his bed, he suspected that no matter how much he drank, it wouldn’t become any clearer. It didn’t make sense.