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I wrinkle my nose. We’ve already tried going through at old photos and other stuff. Nothing seems to be working.
“There are support groups,” Cam continues. “We could try joining one of those. Talk to others in the same situation, get advice…”
“I don’t want to join a support group,” I say with a frown. “I just want my life back. I want to remember you, us, everything we had.” Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them away angrily. I’m tired of crying over this.
“Hey.” Cam tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft with understanding. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this.”
“How can you be so sure?” I demand. “You don’t know that I’ll ever get my memory back. We could be stuck like this forever, always missing what we used to have. How is that going to be okay?”
“Because I love you,” he says simply. “Memory or not, you’re still the woman I want to spend my life with. We’ll make new memories, Aisha. Ones that are just as special.”
I search his face, looking for any sign of doubt or disappointment, but all I find is honesty. Love.
The tightness in my chest eases, and I nod. We’ll get through this, together. We’ll find a way to make this work.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Cam smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling, then he leans down to kiss me again.
Seven
Chapter 7
AISHA
Cam’s gaze drills into the back of my head as I flip pancakes on the griddle. I can feel his hungry eyes trace the curve of my neck, the slope of my shoulders. I can feel his want, like a physical touch, sending shivers down my spine.
“You gonna keep staring, or you gonna set the table?” I tease, hoping to hide how flustered he makes me. Old habits from our years of rivalry, and complicated attraction neither of us wanted to admit.
“Just admiring the view,” Cam drawls, dragging his feet as he grabs plates from the cabinet. “Remember that time in tenth grade, when you pantsed me in front of the whole school?”
Heat floods my cheeks at the memory. “Then you shoved my face in mashed potatoes at lunch,” I retort.
We were always trying to one-up each other, to prove who was better, smarter, faster. Like a twisted form of foreplay.
Cam chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. His arms slide around my waist, pulling me against his hard body. I can feel his hard cock press against my ass, sending a jolt of desire straight to my pussy.
“We’re supposed to be having breakfast,” I protest weakly. Cam nuzzles my neck, his lips and teeth grazing my sensitive skin.
“I’m hungry for something else.” Cam spins me around to face him, eyes glowing with lust. “I’m starving for you, Aisha.”
Before I can respond, his mouth descends on mine in a searing kiss that obliterates all thoughts of protest. Then he lifts me on the counter to deepen our embrace.
Cam’s hands are everywhere, setting my body on fire. They slide under my shirt to caress the curve of my waist, then up to tease my breasts. I moan into his mouth as his fingers find my nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds.
“I need you,” he rasps against my lips. “Now.”
Who am I to deny him? Or myself. We have wasted so much time already.
Cam lifts me off the counter, my legs wrapping around his hips as he carries me upstairs to the bedroom. Our clothes fall in a tangle of impatient hands and famished kisses in a trail leading to the king-sized bed.
He lays me on the soft sheets, his gaze roaming possessively over my naked body. I can see the restraint in the tense line of his jaw, the flicker of heat in his eyes.
“I’m yours,” I say softly, opening my arms in invitation. Cam growls in approval, covering my body with his. We were always meant to be.
* * *
“You know, this means we’re gonna have to stop fighting all the time,” Cam says, kissing the side of my neck.
