Leaning in, he inhales deeply as his nose slides up my cheek, and then his breath fans across my skin as he whispers in my ear. “Anything for you.”
My insides melt while the outside prickles with goosebumps. He always manages to do that to me.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rest my head against his chest. “I'm sorry about Graham asking about your parents.”
I hold my breath when his body freezes in place, but when he starts rubbing a hand soothingly up and down my back, I slowly release the air out of my lungs.
Admittedly, I brought it up with the hopes of him talking to me about it. My heart may be feeling full, but along with that comes vulnerability. I have a strong need to feel close to him, and I don't mean close in a sexual way. I want to know that I'm not alone in feeling these things. I want to know that he trusts me the way I trust him.
“It's okay,” he says, resting his chin on my head.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
A beat passes before he responds. “Do you remember what I told you about my best friend?”
I nod against him as my heart pounds just a little bit faster and harder at the fact that he might be opening up to me.
“Things changed between my parents and me that night. My stepdad was always kind of a dick, but my mom . . . we were close.” He sucks in a breath and slowly releases it. “She actually thought I was involved somehow and stopped trusting me after that. Even kept me away from my sister.” He scoffs bitterly. “They abandoned me as their son because of it when I needed them the most. I didn't just lose my best friend. I lost everyone.”
“I'm so sorry,” I whisper, squeezing him tight. My chest aches and my stomach knots at the thought of a younger Campbell feeling so hurt and alone.
And he has a sister? I hadn't even considered the possibility of him having siblings.
“It's a hard thing to move on from when you don't even know what you did wrong . . . when you didn't even do anything wrong. At least, I don't think.” A few seconds pass by with us simply holding each other, and then he adds, “It's their anniversary party in a few weeks, but I won't be going. They rejected me, so I rejected them.”
I pull back to look up at him, unable to keep the hurt I feel for him off my face. It was the same feeling when he first mentioned it that night. But now it cuts me on a much deeper level since deeper feelings are involved.
“You're a good man, Campbell. I hope they can see that one day.”
Something passes over his face as his Adam's apple bobs and his brows draw together. But just as quickly as it came, it's gone, and then he's cupping my cheeks.
Slowly, he lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me with gentle caresses of his lips. There is none of the usual explosive passion that often comes with kissing him.
Yet this is stillmoresomehow.
My heart weaves and bounds itself to him even tighter as the kiss deepens but never speeds up. I'm falling further for him, and it's scary and intimidating, and exhilarating all at the same time. I was never in love with any of my exes. I know that now.
Cam lifts me up and takes us to his bed, not taking his mouth away from mine until he's lowering me onto the mattress. His body comes down on top of me, but instead of kissing me again or removing my clothes immediately, he takes a moment to stare down at me with soft eyes, brushing a few strands of hair back with his fingers.
He doesn't speak but still manages to say a hundred different things when he leans down and kisses my forehead first, then my cheek, my mouth, and then moves to my jaw and neck.
His fingers loop under the thin straps of my top and bra, and then they slide down, his lips kissing the skin a second after his fingers have passed. I close my eyes, relishing in the feel of his light touch.
After he has slowly stripped me of all my clothes and kissed every inch of my body like he's memorizing it, worshiping it, bringing me to the point of panting and wanting more, he takes his own clothes off, rolls on a condom, and lowers himself to me.
“You know, you really shouldn't want me,” he murmurs softly out of the blue.
With a furrowed brow, I lift a hand to his cheek, running my fingers over his scruffy jaw. “But I do.” I don't know what's gotten into him, but I can imagine meeting my brother and then talking about his parents has been a big deal to him. I know it has been for me.
“You're mine,” he then says, almost in awe.
This time, I smile. “Yes.”
The craving to feel close to him was met when he talked to me instead of shutting me down. But now, I'm desiring theothertype of closeness.
Lifting up, I place my own kisses on his face before nipping hard at his jaw with my teeth. That seems to bring him back to the moment.
With a rumbling sound from his chest, one hand slides between us to my center, feeling the juices gathering there, and his lust-filled eyes darken as they hold mine.
