Chapter 11 – Earth Shattering

 

It takes everything I have, but I gather up all my energy and put my hands on his wrists to pull away.  I do everything I can not to think about his soft kiss and focus on how mean he was to Brian, even if Brian’s words were hurtful. 

“I can’t believe you said that.  It was cruel and he didn’t deserve it.  And you talking about last night in front of him?  That was low and you know it,” I say, grabbing on to my anger and move to get Brian’s plate before heading to the kitchen.

“I couldn’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.  He wants you and he’s jealous,” Cam says, his voice edging on angry.

I throw him a dirty look over my shoulder, “You think I don’t know that?  I’m not an idiot.  I’ve been trying to put him off gently for months now.  I might be inexperienced but I’m not stupid.”

“Paige,” he says low with a warning.

“Cam,” I mock him.

I hear him sigh.  Taking my anger and hurt out on the plate, I clean it and flip on the garbage disposal, letting it run longer than necessary, just because.  I slam the dish in the dishwasher, finally turning back to him.  He’s crossed his arms and is shaking his head per usual.  He takes in his surroundings and mutters, “I don’t like you here.”

I ignore him, because all of a sudden Brian’s words resonate.  I feel the need to say something, explain somehow.  Defend myself.

“I,” I start and have to take a deep breath.  “I’ve never tried to lead anyone on.  What Brian said, I’ve never wanted that to happen, with anyone.”

Cam tips his head a bit, “I believe you.  But he’s also right.  You’re you and you don’t need to try.  I should know after the last week.  But right now I’m thinking I’m the idiot of the bunch that had a shot at you and fucked it up.”

I have nothing to say to that and Cam breathes deep.  His blue eyes turn intense when he states, “All day, Paige.” 

I frown and tip my head.

“All day,” he repeats.  “I’ve tried to stay away from you.  Leave you be—like I should’ve done last night.”

I close my eyes and turn my head to the side.  I feel it creeping in, but I do my best to keep it at bay.  I look back and say as sharply as I can muster, “Then why are you here?”

“I can’t help it,” he says, almost irately.  “For some reason you’ve pulled me in and I can’t let go.  It doesn’t matter what you give me.  After only a week, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

“And you’re angry at me?” I ask, perplexed.  I mean, he’s just too ridiculous for words.

“No, damn it.  I’m pissed at myself.  I’m a grown fucking man with kids, a business and another full time job.  I should be able to keep myself away when I know I should,” he growls.

“How about I make it easy on you?  I’m telling you to leave, again,” I stress.

“I never would’ve guessed that about you.  The way you are, the way you look?  You don’t carry yourself as inexperienced,” he keeps on, ignoring my demand for him to leave.

“Glad I hide it so well,” I jibe.

“How has someone like you not been snatched up by now?  That other guy sure wants you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say.

“You haven’t wanted anyone?” he stresses, as if me not wanting anyone by now is the most perplexing concept he’s ever pondered.

Frustrated, I throw my arms out to the side, “Why are we talking about this?  I thought you were going to say what you came to say and leave.”

He raises his voice and leans forward enunciating his next words, “We’re talking about this because you’re a twenty-six-year-old virgin who runs so fucking hot for me and even though you’re a pain in the ass half the time, you melt the second I lay my hands on you.  I want to know how you got to where you are without fucking combusting.”

I cannot believe him.

“I do not,” I yell back, but it’s in a panic because he has me figured out.  He knows too much about me as it is and I hate that.  I want to be done with this and him to leave.

He tips his head and simply states, “Baby.”

“I don’t,” I keep on.

“You know you do.”  He softens his voice a bit, “Why did you let me touch you?”

I feel my face immediately warm with the memory of him touching me.  I drop my head so I don’t have to look at him.

“Has anyone ever touched you?” he keeps on even softer.

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn from him, facing the sink and lean forward on my hands.  I’m not sure how I expected this to go, but not like this.  This is humiliating.

Many moments later I feel him at my back and he puts his hands to my hips, rounding my middle, pressing in.

“Quit doing that,” I complain.

“Quit doing what?” he asks, speaking with his lips against my hair.

“Pinning me to stuff.  Walls, counters, I don’t like it.”

“You liked it yesterday,” he says, proud of himself.

“Well, I don’t like it anymore.”

“Settle down,” he says quietly, giving me a squeeze.

“Let me go, Cam.”

“No.”

I exhale and let my shoulders slump because I don’t know what more to say.  This is all too much, too overwhelming and I really need to be by myself.

“You surprised me,” he says, keeping his voice low, his lips moving against the top of my head.

I don’t say anything.  There’s nothing to say, his surprise was obvious enough in a bad way.

“I didn’t know what to do with it.”

Still, no response is needed.

“I was an ass.  I shouldn’t have left you,” he keeps on quietly.

He’s right, but I can’t respond because I feel it edging in and I need to fight it back.

His face comes down to the side of my head and I feel his goatee at my ear where he repeats in a softer whisper, “I shouldn’t have left you, baby.”

I give my head a small shake and squeeze my eyes from the burn of my damn tears.  The hurt has slithered in and there’s no keeping it at bay.  It’s taken over, washing my anger clean away, taking my blue ribbon with it.

“I’m glad you told me when you did.  I’d feel even more of an ass if I hadn’t stopped.  But I’ve gotta know.  Why did you let me touch you?”

I shake my head because there’s no way I’m answering that.

“Paige?”

“Please stop talking,” I beg.

His arms part, his right hand drops to my left hip and his left comes up to cup the far side of my face, criss-crossing the front of my body holding me tight, “We’re not stopping.  Tell me why.”

I shake my head.

He pulls me into him tighter, “You wanted it?”

I suck in a big breath of air and squeeze my eyes tighter, but the tears begin to leak through.

“You wanted it,” he whispers his question as a statement this time.

On a shaky voice, I reply, “You left.”

His arms loosen and he turns me toward him.  I stare at his chest until his hands on my face force me to look up.  His eyes wander my features and his thumbs swipe my tears away.  He finally sighs and admits, “You surprised me and I don’t like to be surprised.  I’ve never been with a virgin before.”

Even through my rollercoaster ride of emotions and lack of sleep, I can’t help myself when I roll my teary eyes, exasperated, “Really?  I’ve never been with anyone and that’s your excuse?”

He shakes his head slowly and narrows his eyes, “This is you being a pain in the ass, by the way.  Why do I get off on that?”

“I’ve no idea,” I mutter, wiping my face and try to pull away from him.  He doesn’t let me and snakes his arms around pulling me in tight where I feel his big hard body against mine.  And just like last night, his body, so strong and warm wrapped around me feels too good.  I can’t help but let myself melt into him and say against his chest, “I’m tired.”

I feel his hand snake up my back and into my hair where he pulls my head back and declares, “You need to relax.”

“I don’t need to relax.  I need sleep, which means you need to leave,” I disagree.

“I’m not leaving, darlin’,” his eyes warm and he starts to turn us, forcing me backwards.  “When I say you need to relax, I mean you need to relax.”

“What are you doing?” I start to panic, trying to push away from him.  He won’t let me go and he’s moving us down the short hall past my bathroom and around the corner.  I start to get anxious, because he’s heading straight to my bedroom.  He’s never been here, but it’s not like my room would be hard to find.  My apartment is small, there’s only one way to go and he’s on a mission because before I know it, we’re standing in the middle of my small bedroom.  I frown and repeat, “Really, you need to go.”

He ignores me and stops to look around.  I know my apartment is ugly, but I like my room.  I’ve got a queen bed that’s dressed in neutral colors of beige, creams, whites, with a hint of celery green.  My duvet is fluffy and comfortable, the feather pillows are filled with down and my sheets are Egyptian cotton.  Gabby helped me shop for furniture—most of it came from garage sales or thrift stores.  We refinished the dresser and nightstand, leaving the tall antique chest the way it was.  It looks a little beat and battered, like it might’ve come over on the Mayflower, but I like it the way it is so we left it be.  

I push away, once again feeling small standing in Cam’s arms smack dab in the middle of my bedroom.  I will myself to not want him here, but can’t help the rush of nervousness mixed with excitement.  I do my best to ignore all that and repeat, “What are you doing?”

He looks down with a half grin, “I told you, you need to relax.  I’m gonna make that happen.”

I feel my eyes get big, “Quit telling me to relax.”

“Don’t worry.  You won’t have to do anything,” he says right before his face comes down to mine. I pull my head back and to the side trying to avoid him, but his mouth lands on my jaw under my ear, tickling me with his goatee.  His lips move on my neck and I feel his tongue dart out, giving me goosebumps. 

“Cam, stop,” I call again, but it comes out lame. 

He won’t let me go, my hands work their way up his arms, letting one of them wrap around the back of his neck and the other fisting his t-shirt.  He drops a hand to my ass, but this time dips inside my cotton shorts and gives me a quick squeeze over my panties.  This surprises me but he pulls away, letting me go, forcing me to balance myself on a step back.  I see his arm go up and reaching behind his head, he yanks his t-shirt off, letting it flutter to the floor.

I’m speechless as I stand here gaping.  He really is a brick wall, just as I thought.  He’s all muscle, every single one of them powerful, defined and beautifully shaped, one molding into the next like a sculpted piece of art.  Starting at the top where he’s broad and thick, he narrows slightly where my eyes travel down past his abs that descends to his waist.  His muscles V, disappearing into athletic shorts that hang low on his hips, his underwear band peeking out the top like they’re teasing me with the hint of what’s encased.    I drag my eyes up to his when he steps back, toeing out of his running shoes and then bends to yank off his socks. 

“Cam – ” I frown and exhale at the same time.

“You’re tired,” he tells me something I already know.  However, I think I might’ve just gotten my second wind—maybe my fourth or fifth, it has been a long day—from Cam standing in my bedroom stripping out of his clothes.  He reaches into his pockets and tosses his cell, wallet and keys on my nightstand before informing me, “And I’m not leaving you tonight.”

“What?” I ask, but before I have a chance to think any further on what he’s saying, he puts his hands to his waistband and I can’t help but yell, “Cam!”

He stills and tips his head, “Don’t worry, we’re only gonna sleep.  I don’t know where this is going between us, but I think we both want to find out.  We’ll take all the time you need and only do what you want, when you want to do it.  But I can’t leave you after last night, so I’m stayin’.” 

He’s staying? 

And with that, he pushes his shorts down and they fall to the floor before he kicks them aside.  I find myself standing in my bedroom, gazing at Campbell Montgomery looking like an underwear model from a glossy magazine advertisement.  He’s wearing nothing but those tight man underwear in dark grey that are fitted down to his upper thighs, the waistband informing me he prefers Calvin Klein.  His thighs are bigger and thicker than they felt the other day while pressing me into the wall.  There’s no question he was a football player, he’s nothing but thick muscle and looks as if he could burst out of his Calvin Klein’s just by flexing a butt cheek.   

But holy shit. 

I know I’ve never given it up and haven’t seen any first-hand, but I’m no prude.  I know what the male body looks like and how it works.  And Cam’s seems to be working perfectly.  His manhood is straining against his Calvin Klein’s like it wants to jump out at me, greet me and get to know me. 

“This is what you do to me,” I hear him say in a guttural voice and my eyes shoot to his since I’ve been caught staring.  He’s stripped down to almost nothing in my bedroom.  He moves to me again but before I can escape, he has his hands on my waist and turns me toward the bed, “It doesn’t matter if you’re being a wiseass, throwin’ your sass or turn sweet the instant I get my hands on you.  Just knowing you’re probably wet for me right now and the promise of you makes my cock harder than anyone’s ever made me.  You’ve gotta know you do that to me and I like it.  I like it all a helluva lot.”

“What are you doing?” I know I keep asking this, but I find myself not knowing what to say and decide to ignore his comment about me being wet and making his cock hard.

“I can’t get the hurt look on your face out of my head, especially knowing I put it there.  I owe you an orgasm.  I’m going to relax you and see what you look like when I make you come for me.  That’s the last thing I want in my head tonight.  Then we’re gonna sleep.  Tomorrow morning, we’ll get the kids and drop them at camp before I take you to The Shed.  You’re signed up for boot camp, we can’t be late.”

Oh shit, there’s so much there.  Sleep, hurt, relaxing me, his kids not to mention orgasms.  And I still can’t believe he’s in my bedroom looking nothing short of an underwear model.

I feel his hands at my cotton shorts and trying not to think about him making me come for him, I decide to go with, “I told you I’m not doing a boot camp.”

“You’ll like it,” he says into my neck and sticks his thumbs in my shorts to push them down.

“Stop it,” I try to grab my shorts, but of course he’s stronger and yanks them out of my grasp.  They fall to the floor and he wraps me up with both arms, lifting me out of my shorts.  I let out a little surprised yelp as my feet leave the floor and he turns with me in his arms. 

“Paige,” he lowers his voice.  “I told you to settle down.”

“Quit telling me to settle down and you can’t just take my clothes off,” I sort of complain, but he’s walking backwards, moving us toward my bed. 

He ignores me as he plops me down, reaches under the back of my tank and the next thing I know my bra is loose.  He slides his fingers in the armholes of my top and starts to rip my bra straps out and down my arms saying, “Let’s get this off of you.”

“Quit,” I slap at his hand this time.

“You can’t sleep in your bra,” he says, like he somehow knows it’s uncomfortable to sleep in a bra from experience, which seeing his body almost naked, he absolutely does not.

Before I know it, he’s expertly removed my bra.  I’d ponder his ability to easily do this if time allowed, but we’re going down, him first with me on top before he rolls us.  The next thing I know, I’m on my back and Cam is lying half over me.  He’s pinning me to my bed with his big thigh lying over both my legs. 

I take in where I am, who I’m with and how I got here.  As I try to calm myself, I know at any moment he would have stopped if I wanted him to, but he knows I didn’t want him to.   He knows he hurt me last night and apologized for it.  Well, he sort of apologized.  He did it more with his actions and tone as opposed to actual words, but still.  I knew it was an apology all the same and coming from what I’ve gotten to know of Cam in the last week, I found it sweet.  I had a feeling he’d find a way to rip away my blue ribbon, but I’d never guess we’d be where we are now—stripped down to almost nothing in my bed. 

Cam is leaning on an elbow gazing down where he has me pinned.  He looks to his hand where I feel it drag up the side of my body, brushing the side of my breast making my heart race.  Since he’s practically lying on top of me and feel like my heart might beat out of my chest, I wonder if he can feel it, too.  I shut my eyes and turn my head to the side, breathing deep to calm myself. 

His hand comes to my chin, tilting my face to his and I feel the goatee before his lips hit mine.  He kisses me as his hand frames the side of my head before he says against my lips, “I want to see your face and I can’t do that when you keep looking away from me.”

I open my eyes and his face is soft as his hand makes its way back down the side of my body.  He moves his thigh that’s pinning me and releases my far leg, keeping the other tucked tight.  I shiver when I feel his hand come down my leg, where he lifts it behind my knee, hitching it high and far. 

Pushing the inside of my knee out and flat to the bed he says softly, “Keep this leg open wide for me.  Try and hold it there, you’ll like it.”

I moan.  He doesn’t beat around the bush, figuratively speaking of course.  I feel the anticipation of the Promised Land located south of the equator part and do a reverse gasp on an exhale.  Closing my eyes, I can’t help but turn my head away.

He brings my face back to his one more time with a small frown playing on his brow, “Quit looking away.  I want to see your face when I touch you.”

“I can’t look at you when you’re talking to me all sexy like that,” I say, sort of breathy.

The side of his mouth jumps and he leans to kiss me.  His hand floats down to my chest where he cups my breast over my tank.  He massages as he kisses before gently twisting my nipple. When he finally breaks his kiss, he informs me, “You’ll get used to it.”

“I doubt it,” I mumble.

I feel his fingers make their way down my body as he keeps torturing me with his words, “You touch yourself, baby?”

“Seriously, would you stop?” I plead, turning my head the other way so I don’t have to look at him.  I can’t take it.

“You do,” he answers his own question again as he touches me between my legs but over my panties.

“Stop talking,” I beg.

“Stop looking away from me,” he demands.

I slowly turn my head toward him and the second I catch his eyes, he kisses me while dipping his hand in my panties.  I moan into his mouth as his fingers move, learning the lay of the land.  Not that he’s not familiar with the land, I’m sure he’s well-travelled.  But the way he’s touching me and taking his time makes me feel as if he’s getting to know me.  But how would I know.  Maybe everyone does it like this. 

What I do know is his fingers glide easily as they discover me, roaming and teasing as he barely drags a finger over my clit making me jerk.  He slides a finger inside and it feels as good as it did last night, but I have to break his kiss to exhale.

“You’re tight,” he says against my lips.  He adds another finger and lightly hits my clit with his thumb.

“Cam,” I moan his name and can’t help but lift my hips to get more.  It’s never felt this way.  I didn’t know it was possible for it to feel this way.  I’m heated—aching for his touch. 

“Take a deep breath,” he whispers against my mouth and it’s only then I realize I’m panting shallow puffs of air.

I try to inhale deeper, not caring what he’s saying anymore because the future Promised Land is sweltering and I don’t know how much longer I can hold the fire at bay. 

“Grab hold of me, baby,” he orders softly. 

I drag my hands up to the back of his head to pull him close.  He puts more pressure on my clit, back and forth, circles.  North, south, east, west.  Whichever way he goes, the spark ignites as his fingers continue to delve in and out of me. 

Then it happens.

And I might as well have never had an orgasm before. 

When I touch myself I come gently, but there’s nothing gentle about this.  I hear myself cry out as my body violently jerks under Cam’s touch and I can’t help myself from bringing my legs together to try to stop it.  But even squeezing my legs, he keeps at me until he wrings me dry and finally takes my mouth in a deep kiss, not letting me pull away to gasp.  I feel his hand leave and he wraps his arms around me with his erection pressing into my thigh. 

He breaks his searing kiss and I hear, “Fucking incredible.”

I’m still coming down from the most intense orgasm ever, thinking I really must not know what I’m doing because it never feels like that when I do it.  I pull my heavy eyelids open and ask, “What?”

“You came so fucking hard for me, your body was singing.  I don’t know what you’ve done to get you to where you are now, but you’re a minefield.  With the way you came on my hand, the promise of what you can do to my cock is a dream I hope I get to live,” he says.

At his words and knowing how hard I came, mortification pours over me and I let go, trying to pull myself out of his arms.  I mumble, “I need to get up.”

He grabs and pulls me into him tighter, “Paige, stop.”

“Let go,” I keep trying to pull away, even though there’s no question he’s too big and strong for me.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” he says.  Turning my face with his big hands, I have no choice but to look at him, “You know what you just gave me?”

I sigh, feeling defeated, and shake my head.

“No one’s touched you.  That’s mine.  No one’s seen you come, that’s mine.  No one’s had you right here,” he gives me a squeeze, pressing into me to make his point.  “Yeah, this is mine, too.  You’re more beautiful than you’ve ever been lying here under me, and baby, you’re fucking beautiful.  So don’t pull away from me.  I’m pleased as shit this is all mine and I don’t care what happens next or when it happens.  But don’t take this away from me and don’t ruin it by being uncomfortable about something that should be incredible.  Wherever this goes, I never want you to be embarrassed.  You understand?”

I look up and his eyes turned soft somewhere in the middle of his rant, his voice matching his eyes.  I don’t want to be embarrassed, not to mention it’s not like me.  I barely nod and whisper, “All right.”

His soft look turns into a soft smile and then he shifts us up the bed, tossing my shams to the floor.  Flipping the covers back, he pulls them over us and I realize he’s settling us in when he reaches over and flips off my lamp.

This is all new for me, even if it’s sort of wonderful-weird being in my bed with Cam.  However, I don’t lie when I say, “I’ve got to go to the store, I need pumpkin.”

He stills his body and frowns, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Pumpkin beer?” he asks, clearly confused by my request.

I grin, “No, but thanks for remembering.  I wish they sold pumpkin beer all year round.  I need pumpkin for cookies, the dough needs to refrigerate overnight so I can make them tomorrow.  They’ll turn out flat if you make them right after mixing the dough.”

He frowns deeper, “You’re not leaving me to get pumpkin.”

I frown back, “But I need it.  My brother really likes them and I want to make them for his birthday.”

“I worked hard getting you here, you aren’t getting up,” he insists.

“But Cam – ”

“You were tired and I’m tired.  Go to sleep,” he orders.

“Are you really not going to let me up to get pumpkin for my brother?”

“Yeah, really,” he says as he arranges us and pulls me tight, his hand snaking around to my ass.  “Get him a gift card.”

“No way.  A gift card is the worst gift ever, plus he has everything he wants.  He just made partner at the firm, he doesn’t need a gift card.”

“Whatever.  Make him something else, but you’re not getting up,” he affirms.

“I at least need to brush my teeth,” I say and try to pull away again.

“Paige,” he starts as he rolls to face me.  He pulls me in tight and looks determined when he says, “You are not leaving this bed until it’s time to get up and get the kids.  You’re not going to the store and you’re not brushing your teeth.  You’ll find a way to get embarrassed or freaked about something else and I don’t have the energy to maneuver you back here.  Last night I had to live with your hurt face in my head, but tonight I got to give you an earth-shattering orgasm.  You’re ruining it by arguing about pumpkin and cookie dough and your teeth.  I promise your teeth will be fine for one night.  I wanted you relaxed and now you’re not relaxed.  We’re going to sleep and we’re doin’ it now.”

I glare and finally let my body slump in his arms.  I can’t help it when I say, “If I get a cavity, I’m gonna be pissed.  I hate the dentist and it’ll be your fault.”

He narrows his eyes before falling to his back and brings his hand up to roughly rub his face.  He pulls me in tight with his other arm and asks the ceiling, “Why in the hell do I like that?”

I let my fingers wander up his chest for the first time, letting myself feel his rock hard muscles under smooth skin for the first time and mutter, “I’m serious.  I hate the dentist.”

I hear him sigh before I’m pulled up his body where he kisses me sweet. 

“Go to sleep,” he whispers and I can’t know for sure, but I think his sweet kiss and whisper is another apology.  Or maybe it’s a thank you for being where we are in my bed.  Or maybe, just maybe, this feels as good to him as it feels to me. 

I settle in, tucked tight to Cam as I continue letting my hand wander his chest, hoping it’s the latter. 

“Cam?” I call out quietly.

“Hmm?” he hums sleepily.

I press in closer, liking this even though I’ve never had this, but knowing I like it because it’s Cam and whisper, “You came back.”  Pulling in a breath and smelling his clean smell, I go on, “Thank you for coming back.”

Cam pulls me tighter and simply responds with a soft, “Baby.” 

*****

Brian—Hours later in the parking lot…

 

The lights never turn off in her family room windows. 

But fuck if they didn’t go out in her bedroom three hours and twenty-three minutes ago.  I know this because there’s nothing to do but watch her windows and my clock.

And her door that no one walked out of.  It never opened. 

It never fucking opened. 

I toss my cell to the passenger seat, it ran out of juice hours ago.  I grip my steering wheel trying hard not to pull it out of the dashboard, put my car in gear and pull out.  I’ll call her tomorrow.  Or maybe I’ll come see her. 

Or maybe I’ll just watch.