Jon
Jon reached into his jeans to readjust his seemingly constant hard-on. The past three weeks had been a lesson in restraint and torment. He looked up from where he was chopping wood and glanced over at Camille.
Fuck. Bad idea. Once again she was on her knees in the vegetable garden she had taken ownership of. Her tight, round ass was swaying back and forth in the tiniest jean shorts known to man, pulling weeds from between the long ignored rows of produce. Sweat dripped down her back, making the white tank top she wore near translucent. His cock throbbed as images of what else she could do while on her knees flashed through his head.
No. He would not go there again.
After the first night in the cabin, Jon had tried to get Camille to sleep alone. But each morning he woke up to find her wrapped around him like a vine growing on a tree. She always claimed she either didn’t know how she ended up in his bed, or that she had been scared and didn’t want to be alone. After the first week, Jon gave in and they had been sleeping in her much larger bed ever since.
Even with the extra space, she still ended up plastered to him by dawn. Not that he minded. Truth be told, he fucking loved it. Even if he did wake up every morning with the worst case of blue balls known to man. For the most part they both ignored the giant tent in the blankets. Jon would always get up first, rub one, sometimes two, out in the bathroom before showering and going to the kitchen to make breakfast. Soon after, Camille would roll out of bed and hit the shower herself.
Jon had no doubt that Camille wanted him. The girl had no poker face whatsoever. But even as obvious as she was in her desire, she also had no clue how to flirt, which Jon found strangely sexy. She also had no idea how every move she made affected him, drove him crazy with animal lust. Thankfully, his poker face was much better
Guilt surged through his system as he stared at her sweaty body working the earth. Hell, he hadn’t even realized there was an old vegetable garden in all the underbrush, but she found it one day while they were cleaning up the back property. It must have been a holdover from Sophie’s teenage years. Camille had lovingly brought it back to life, and Jon couldn’t help feeling like she did the same for his withered old heart.
He shook his head and turned back to the chopping block. Damn, he really was a doddering old fool to be thinking such whimsical thoughts.
A tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was only forty-five, not eighty. And he was in better shape than a lot of men half his age. Why couldn’t he make Camille his? But then reason pushed its way back into his thoughts. Camille deserved a man her own age, one that could relate to her and be with her until they were both old and grey. She shouldn’t have to start her life with a man that was already well on his way to silver fox status.
“Jon, look!” Camille’s excited voice floated to him from across the clearing that they called a backyard. He damn near fell over when he turned to see her skipping across the few yards that separated them, a bright smile on her face. “Strawberries! I grew strawberries!”
She came to a skidding stop in front of him, her perfect tits bouncing as she practically vibrated with excitement. It had been truly amazing to see Camille come out of her shell over the last few weeks since they had arrived at the cabin. She still had her dark moments, when she sat and stared out the window for hours on end, or woke up screaming from a nightmare. But more and more she had these long periods of true happiness. It felt as if Jon had been given a front row seat to the most beautiful sunrises every time she laughed, and he would do damn near anything to make sure she kept having more of the light, and less of the dark.
“That’s great, Cami.” She beamed up at him, blushing slightly at the shortened version of her name.
“Here taste. The little ones are actually super sweet.” She held the bright red berry up to his mouth, but he found himself craving the sweet taste of her skin more than any fruit.
He opened his mouth, and she slid the berry into his mouth, still gripping the stem with her fingers. Her skin brushed against his lips as he bit down on the juicy flesh and flavor exploded onto his tongue. Jon doubted any man alive possessed the fortitude to resist the erotic images this moment elicited. He wondered how the color of her nipples compared to that of the strawberries. Were they lighter, more dusky? If he licked them, then blew cold air against their surface, would they contract to the same size as the tip of the fruit?
“Good, right?” Camille held his gaze, not allowing him to look anywhere other than her brilliant hazel eyes, her tight curls fluttering around her face in the warm summer breeze.
He could only nod. Fuck, he was one hundred percent fucked. There was no way on earth that he would be able to resist her much longer. The end of his patience was growing nearer and nearer. If McCracken didn’t get Formosa and the rest of the guys to wrap this case up soon, Jon had no doubt he would find himself in bed with Camille, only it wouldn’t be nearly so innocent as the past three weeks.
“I need…”
“What do you need Jon?”
“The store, I need to go to the store. I’ll be right back.” Jon wiped his hands off on his jeans and turned abruptly, with Camille still holding the strawberry out behind him.
“Right back? The store is forty-five minutes away,” she called after him. “What about my self-defense lesson?”
Jon practically sprinted for the truck, barely remembering to grab the keys and his wallet. In the almost month they had been at the cabin, Jon had only made one other trip to the tiny mountain town forty-five minutes down the road. The idea of leaving Camille alone and vulnerable made him nauseous, but he needed to get away, just for a minute.
The access road was a bumpy ten mile ride until it met up with the paved road that wound down from the mountain. He slammed on the brakes and threw the truck into park once he hit the intersection. Not actually wanting to make the trek into town, he banged his head back against the headrest. He needed to stay strong. To not give into the temptation Camille posed. She deserved more than he could offer her. He would always be in her life, not willing or able to completely give her up. And it would kill him when she eventually found a husband and started a family with whatever shmuck was lucky enough to land her. But even still, he would be there, suffering silently, satisfied to watch her happiness grow.
At least that’s what he told himself. The truth was just the thought of Camille being touched by anyone other than him made him homicidal.
Needing to get his mind off the sinfully innocent girl waiting for him at the cabin, Jon pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. He checked it once a day to see if there was any update from the investigation, but always at different times of the day, and never for very long. It was a burner, but he still didn’t want to run the slight risk that someone might be able to track it and find out where they were holed up.
Once the slow as hell burner booted up, it showed no new messages. The case had not been coming along nearly as quickly as he wanted. Of course, he knew all too well that these investigations were never open and shut. It didn’t happen like it was on TV shows, there wasn’t one vital piece of evidence that broke a case wide open and allowed you to arrest a guy two days after a crime. Things were almost never that neat in his world. No, they had to dig and scrounge for every little piece of information and build each piece on top of the others like Legos until it formed a picture that would lead to conviction.
But Camille had given them so much information. He truly thought they would only be at the cabin for two weeks at most, not the three, almost four, they were working on.
Jon pulled up the number for McCracken and hit send. It only took two rings before his former employee picked up.
“Everything okay Chief?” The bullpen buzzed in the background, and Jon found he both missed the place, and didn’t. His men would always be a priority to him, but the break from the bureaucracy of running a police station in a politically backwater town had been nice.
“That’s what I’m calling to find out, Luke. Where is the case? How far are you from making an arrest?” Jon gripped the steering wheel in an effort to calm his nerves. He needed this to be over. For his sweet Camille to be safe.
Luke’s deep sigh did nothing to calm Jon’s anxiousness. “We’re at a dead end, Chief. This Rich guy seems to be in the wind. Can’t find the fucker anywhere.”
“How is that possible?” Jon bellowed, the window next to him vibrating with the force of his own frustration. “What about the guy that tried to kill Cami? Did you try questioning him again? Get a better deal for him?”
“We offered him everything but my own first born. He’s sticking to his story. He’s a contract enforcer that got hired by a guy over the phone. They did dead drops for all money exchanges, and he never knew faces or names.” Rustling on the other end of the phone and more voices let him know someone else entered the same room as Luke. “Jon, Sophie’s here, she wants to talk to you.”
“Okay, but I need you to get this done Luke. It’s been a month since we had a name and a face on this guy. Something has to give.” Before the acting chief could answer, Sophie took the cell from her soon-to-be-husband and started in on her uncle.
“Hey Uncle Jon, how are you two holding up, need anything?” She always was a sweet girl, wanting to take care of everyone around her. There was no doubt in Jon’s mind she would be a wonderful mom to the baby she currently carried.
“We’re fine honey. Don’t need for a thing. How about you? My future great-niece or nephew being good to you?”
“Yes, finally finished the puking phase, and now I’m onto the endless energy and wanting to clean phase.” Luke shouted something about that not being all she wanted lately, and Jon promptly tried to forget he ever heard that while his niece yelled at him to shut up. “Anyway, is Camille okay? Is she making due with the clothes I got her? I had to guess on all the sizes since her clothes were sent to the forensics lab.”
A sardonic laugh escaped before Jon could hold it back. She’d done real well on the clothes all right. Too well. Almost everything fit Cami like a second skin. “Yup, the clothes are working just fine. Though she did mention something about not packing enough underwear.”
“Well, yeah, that was for your benefit.”
If Jon hadn’t already been sitting, he would have fallen on his ass in surprise. “What does that mean?”
Sophie laughed, the same little giggle that had gotten her father and uncle so irreversibly wrapped around her little finger. “It means that I saw the way you looked at her the few times I came to the hospital. I saw the way you were damn near obsessed with finding her after her arrest. No one can miss the drive you have to protect her at all times. I also see all those same things when Luke looks at me. She’s your one, Jon.”
“That’s insane! She’s half my age. There’s no way.” The words were weak even to his own ears.
“Yes, there is a significant age gap, but I don’t think that matters all that much in this case. She’s been through more in a few years than most people go through in a lifetime. And you are kind, funny, and, as much as it pains me to say, very good looking. I’ve seen girls even younger than her take notice when you walk by. For once in your life, Jon, you’ve found someone that made you put the force in second place. You didn’t hesitate to give up your role as chief to keep Camille safe.” Sophie’s words made the gnawing longing in his chest intensify. He’d been trying to deny and shove it down for weeks, but the fact that someone else saw his need and affection for Camille made it impossible to ignore. “And Jon, I saw the way she looks at you too. It is the same way I look at Luke. Don’t get in your own way here. If I know you, you are doing everything you can to be the noble gentlemen, and pushing her away. Stop. Let it happen.”
“Sophie. She’s had so much darkness in her life already. I don’t want to be the man that keeps her from the light. She should go out, dance, make mistakes, with men her own age.” Damn, those words twisted in his gut and felt wrong on his tongue. Because they were lies. She had seen darkness, but Jon would never keep her from the light. All he wanted to do was help her shine. What better way could he do that than to be by her side to lift her up when she needed it?
“Just stop trying so hard to make it not happen, and see what does when you just let go.” They were both silent as Jon absorbed everything she’d said. “Okay?”
“I’ll think about it Sophie.”