24. One to Ten

twenty-four

Violet

Idon't recall exactly how I got to Cam's. I drove, I'm sure of it, because my car keys are still gripped in my hand. But the roads I took, the entire drive here, I can't remember any of it. I can't even remember deciding I was going to come. I just know I'm standing in her living room, Reese's blood soaked into my clothing.

"Hey, hey," Cam says softly, brushing my hair out of my face. I blink, trying to focus my gaze, but no matter how hard I try, I feel like I'm just staring through her instead of at her. Her eyes are wide, a bewildered look sewn into her face, but she maintains that smooth tone as she slides my jacket off. "What happened?"

I try to speak, but my throat closes, only a hoarse squeak coming out. She tosses my jacket into the washing machine and returns.

"Violet, talk to me." Her hand finds mine and squeezes it tightly. I take a shuddered breath.

"R-Reese," I manage to croak. "H-he got at-ttacked. They said-they said they didn't know if he was going to make it. And that their lobby was closed."

Cam looks up at me, tears pricking her eyes, but she holds them back.

"Oh, Violet," she says softly. "I'm so sorry."

I just shake my head, still staring at absolutely nothing. She wraps an arm around me, squeezing tightly.

"Let's get you into the shower, okay? I think you'll feel a lot better."

I shake my head. This isn't Cam's job. She doesn't need to take care of me. She was very clear about the boundaries of this. And she was clear in her avoidance today.

"No, I-I didn't mean to put you in this position. I'm sorry." I shake my head. "I just need to go home."

The void in my chest expands, and I swallow. I shouldn't be here. Why am I here?

Cam's head rubs against mine as she shakes it softly.

"No," she whispers. "I'm not letting you go home. You shouldn't be alone right now."

I swallow, the dry lump in my throat rising. "I don't know how not to be."

The soft pads of her fingertips brush against the crown of my head as she pushes my hair out of my face. Then, silently, she takes me by the hand and guides me to the bathroom.

My body shakes and shivers, but I don't feel cold. I don't exactly know what's happening to me, I just know I want it to stop.

Cam's fingers slide underneath the hem of my shirt, her eyes locking onto mine in an unspoken question. I give her a shaky nod, and she carefully peels my blood-soaked shirt over my head. It leaves streaks of red down my face and neck as it grazes the skin. She tosses it onto the tile in the corner of the bathroom. Then, her hands glide around my back. She looks down at the floor as she unclasps my bra. When her eyes draw up to me, it isn't a look she's ever given me before.

I'm used to the distaste. The annoyance. And I've grown to need the lust. But this isn't any of those.

This is pity.

I feel so weak, letting her see me like this.

Defective. I'm breaking all my own rules, while breaking all of hers at the same time. I should put my clothes back on. I should leave. But my buckling knees refuse to budge, no matter how hard I try to take a step forward. My chest tightens every time I take in a breath.

Like I'm underwater, sucking in the ocean until I drown. "Is it okay if I keep going?" she asks quietly. Her words graze my skin, goosebumps washing over my half-naked body. I'm exposed, but it has nothing to do with the clothes lying on the floor. My eyes draw up hesitantly, until they land on hers.

I was wrong. Cam might be aggravating. She may push my buttons to a point I didn't know they could be pushed, and she might have an attitude comparable to a teenage bull. But those eyes are calming. I know they are. Right now, they're the only thing keeping me here.

"Yes," I answer breathily, and Cam delicately tugs my jeans down my legs, taking my underwear with them. She helps me into the shower, making sure the temperature is right before I step inside. My legs tremble, and I grip the sidebar as I lower myself to the floor. Cam grabs the green shower curtain and tugs it closed. She pokes her head inside one last time.

"I'll be right here, okay?"

I know I'm pathetic. I know I'm here, sitting in the shower naked and emotionless, while Cam is standing next to me completely composed. I know, and I hate it. But I can't think of anything I need more right now than Cam's skin against mine. Than her eyes guiding me silently to solace. For once, I'm scared to be alone.

"Can you—" My voice cracks. "Can you sit with me?" I shake my head apologetically as the words tumble out. "Sorry. I don't know..."

But Cam nods, her grip on the curtain releasing. "Whatever you need."

She steps out of her clothes and climbs inside the tub.

I stare at the iron-stained floor, the water running down my body turning red before it hits the bottom of the tub and circles into the drain. My eyes close as I tilt my head back and let the warmth wash over me.

A pair of familiar legs slide on either side of me. Cam's bare body grazes against my back, and I shudder at the contact. Her hands find my hair and travel through the bloody tangled mess, scrubbing gently along the way. My eyes stay closed, absorbing every moment, every second of her touch. Images flash through my mind. That dog. Reese. His motionless, whimpering body. My head falls into my hands, my shoulders shaking as a weak sob slips out.

"You're okay," Cam says softly, continuing to stroke my hair. "You're okay."

She reaches for the soap, pumping it generously into her hand before running her fingers back through my hair, scrubbing the scalp tediously but gently.

With care.

I've never been cared for. Not to say nobody cares about me. I've just never been taken care of. I've never shattered into pieces and let someone else put me together. Not my parents, not Ruthie. Not Mallory.

"I'm going to rinse it out now, okay?" Cam asks. I nod, parting my lips to speak but nothing comes out. She helps me stand and turns my back toward the shower head. Warm water streams down my face, the suds washing backward out of my thick hair. Cam runs her fingers through it, making sure every sud, every bubble washes out. Then, she reaches for the loofah.

She lathers it up with soap that smells like sweet mint and eucalyptus, then presses it carefully to my body. I wince, for a second. I don't know why. It doesn't hurt. It just feels unnatural to have someone doing this for me. It feels unnatural for her to be seeing me like this.

The loofah glides across my skin, the rough beige sponge scrubbing gentle circles around me. Cam's sure to be careful as she glides over the hammerhead, though the healing process has moved along nicely and the peeling is almost gone.

I look down at her finally, letting her eyes meet mine. God, she's beautiful. And I'm a complete disheveled wreck.

"One to ten," I ask weakly. "How good am I being compared to your regular clients?"

I force a smile, and I can tell by her reaction that it isn't really a smile at all. It feels more like a grimace. But Cam offers me her own fake grin, her eyes dropping down to the loofah gliding across my chest.

"Eight," she says softly. Her eyes flick up. "You're a little dirtier than most."

I let out a chuckle that isn't forced but isn't genuine either. It's both, in a way. Neither, in another. My hand cups the back of her waist, gently pulling her close to me.

"I'm sorry," I say, my gaze dropping to the floor. I watch suds slide down the ribbed fiberglass and into the drain. "I know what you meant earlier. And I shouldn't have shown up—"

"Don't." Cam shakes her head. "Don't talk about that right now. Please."

I look up, her eyes giving me a subtle, silent plea.

I nod.

"Okay."

Cam sets the loofah on the side of the tub, then steps forward, closer to me. Her arms snake around my waist, and I look down at her for anything that may be a distraction. From Reese, from the contract. All of it.

Her blonde hair is dark in the shower. The true beauty of her eyes is hidden by the low lighting, but I know what really lies inside. Her thick brown lashes clump together, little drops sitting on their tips which shake as she blinks. Water pools in the curve of her lips, and her tongue peeks out to clear it.

16She is the most beautiful distraction ever created. My hands cradle the back of her neck, my thumb tracing her jaw. Cam's breath hitches, and I lean in to press our mouths together.

Her lips are wet and soft. Full and warm.

Everything about them is perfect. A perfect distraction. She pulls back.

"Violet, you're not—" She swallows, her hands tightening around my waist. "You're not in a good state of mind. We shouldn't—"

"If you aren't comfortable, I don't want to," I say, the shower raining down on us in warm, steaming patter. My eyes search through Cam's, scanning her face for anything. Anything that isn't pity. Anything that shows understanding for the fact that I need a distraction. She pauses, looking at me carefully. Then, she leans back in, pressing her lips to mine.

"I want to."

Cam's fingers glide delicately across my back.

There's no haste in her movement. No desperation. Her lips travel down my neck, rain drops hitting my back softly. Cam's knees bend, her lips traveling lower down my body now. She kisses the tops of my breasts, then between them. Her lips journey down my ribcage slowly, like a stroll on the beach, soaking in every inch. My body tenses when she meets my hip and sucks the skin gently between her teeth. But she doesn't try to leave a bruise. She kisses it like it's a butterfly's wing, careful not to break it. I swallow, tilting my head back into the shower.

"Are you sure you want this?" she asks. Her knees are against the stained floor of the tub, her eyes looking up at me with concern, but also with desire. I bite my bottom lip and nod my head.

"I want you."

Cam lifts my leg over her shoulder, just like I had done to her in the storage closet. Her face settles between my thighs, hesitating for just a moment before she licks a hot, wet stripe up the center of me. I groan, gripping the sidebar to steady myself. Cam looks up at me with a soft smile, then does it again. My veins tingle from the sensation, my fingers curling desperately. It's been a long time since I've had someone touch me like this. All tongue and hands, warmth and care.

Cam pulls back slightly and then slides two fingers through my slick center.

"God, baby," she groans and watches as her fingers unravel me. My hips rock forward, one hand still on the sidebar as the other finds the shower curtain and tightens its grip around it. Her fingers dip inside me, one at first, then both. They curl, tracing my inner walls as my eyes squeeze shut. A hot sensation, a slick one, finds its way to my clit. She licks circles around it, her fingers circling inside of me as they dip further and further in.

"Cam," I groan needily, releasing the shower curtain so I can find her hair. I run my fingers through her thick, wet locks, before I tighten my grip around them. Cam's head tilts in circles, her tongue dancing around my clit and making my stomach tighten. Despite the warm steam from the shower, goosebumps brush across my skin when she mutters against my heat.

"God, Violet. You look so gorgeous with your pussy in my mouth."

Fuck.

I groan, pulling Cam's face further into me by her hair. I release it immediately, as guilt washes over me.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean t—"

"Violet," she cuts in, tilting her head to the side. "Do you trust me?"

I look down at her, and drops pelt her pretty pink cheeks. Her lips glisten in the low bathroom light, and I don't know how to explain to her why I do. Why I trust her. I nod.

"Then ride my face like you don't care if I live."

My hand slides to the back of her head and pulls her face back into me. The warm familiarity of her mouth finds my throbbing clit instantly, and her fingers travel back inside me like they were crafted to fit. Heat floods my body, but I don't think it has anything to do with the water. My heart thrums against my chest, and my head rocks back with every roll of my hips against Cam's sweet, gorgeous face. Her free hand grips my hips, her nails sinking into the tender skin.

"Fuck, yes."

Cam's grip around me tightens, and my own in her hair does the same. Her tongue slides back toward my entrance, where her fingers twist just right to run along the inside of me, then back up to my swollen clit. I feel it building, the pressure, the need. A high-pitched moan escapes my lips, which Cam takes as her cue to speed up.

"God, fuck!"

I hold the back of her head steady, my heel digging into her spine as I buck my hips inward, the curve of her face giving me just enough friction to come undone. She lets out a moan too, pulling me into her with so much force, that my standing leg begins to buckle. I leverage myself against the wall. I give one last thrust into her, the knot in my stomach releasing.*

My fingertips tingle as something rushes through my stomach. The void in my chest slowly closes as I look down at Cam, her face dipping out from between my thighs. Her cheeks are red, her lips swollen, and I don't know why I feel like I'm about to fall apart. My chest heaves as my muscles relax, and Cam stands, her hand immediately moving to cup the underside of my chin.

"Hey," she says softly, waiting for me to meet her eye. I swallow, hesitantly guiding them up to look at her. "You're okay. I've got you."