Chapter 14

Giddy like a teenage boy, I arrive at her house late in the evening with a bouquet in hand.

"Flowers? Did Barclay pick them up for you, or did you pick them out yourself?" Cam's butterscotch eyes narrow.

"For your information, I picked them from my mother's flower garden."

"They're exquisite. No one's ever given me hydrangeas."

I slide my arms around her waist. "Don't I get a hello or a kiss because in the photo you sent my brother, you seemed eager."

Her face turns as pink as the flowers. My mother has a variety of colors, but the hot pink reminded me of Cameron's flushed skin. Cameron holds the flowers to the side and pulls me into her house.

"Why did you call me baby instead of Bella?"

My eyes go round. "I didn't. My brother had my phone. What did he say?" She shows me her phone. "I'm going to kill Wells."

"Not on my account. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She smirks with a wicked look in her eyes before she buries her nose in the flowers, seemingly innocent.

"Not like I can, and you know it."

Damn, I've missed her, and it's only been sixteen hours since I've seen her. I grab the flowers and lay them on the table. "You're going to show me how good you can make yourself feel."

"Nope."

God, she's defiant, and it only makes me want her more.

"Come on, Bella. We'll do it together." Unbuttoning my tailored, perfect-fitting dress shirt, she watches, wetting her lips. The crisp white shirt rustles as I tear it from my arms, and it's all I needed to draw her into me.

I crouch in front of her, peeling down those little pajama shorts from her long legs. "You changed underwear."

She sasses back, "Yeah, the other pair were messy and really sticky."

I growl, kissing her mound through the black satin and lace, before shedding her of the tank top.

"Couch, now."

We move to the couch, and I cover her hand with mine, getting her started fondling herself. "No need to be embarrassed." I've licked her, sucked, and fucked her. Watching her fingers give her pleasure is nothing, yet when I move my hand, it's the most provocative movements I've ever seen.

Soon, I'm fisting myself as her mouth parts and little mewls escape those perfectly peach lips. She's on the edge but not quite reaching orgasm on her own. "Open your eyes, baby." I move my hand faster, and so does she. "I'm going to come just watching you. You're gorgeous—all wet and flushed."

She's panting, and I detonate before she does. So, I pull her onto my lap and rub her pretty dripping center until her back arches, and my name falls from her lips.

Our bodies relax after a few minutes, and we move to the shower, then to the bed, and my body is ready for another round. I stretch to reach a tie strewn over the chair next to my bed. I snap it twice, and Cameron's eyes twinkle. "Do you trust me?"

She snatches the tie from my hand. "The question is do you trust me?" Mischief dances in her gaze.

Cameron ties my hands above my head as she rides me. God, I want to touch her skin, so I lean up and nip at her breasts as they bounce. She leans down, grinding her clit over my abs and allowing me to suck her breasts in my mouth. When she cries out, I put my tied arms over her head and on her back as we nip and bite.

Wiggling my hands free, I flip us over and tie her hands together. Damn, this is a turn-on to trust each other in this way, plunging into new territory with some playful bondage. Both of us scream as we climax and our arousal mixes together,

When we finish, I mumble over her ear, "I'm so glad you're on the pill, and I can spill into you anytime I want."

"Me too, I don't have the energy for another shower."

I take the tie and wipe her thighs clean, then we lay in bed and talk about our days like we've been doing this forever. And I'm beginning to think—we will.

"Why did your brother have your phone?"

"Our phones are the same, black, no phone cases, so when I left the board meeting…" I clear my throat. "I picked his phone up without realizing it until he was already gone. We just used each other's phones. Human Resources gave me your number so I could call you from my brother's phone. And I guess he wanted to fuck with me, so he answered you from mine. I love your do-what-you-want attitude," I say, peppering her with wet kisses.

"I'm not reckless. Risk versus reward, right? How was I to know you needed to masturbate and picked up the wrong phone?"

I mold her body to mine. "You didn't, and it was hot as hell. Just wish my brother didn't see it. I want you all to myself."

"What are you saying?"

My thoughts are scattered like sand on the shore. I know I want her and enjoy her company, but I'm not sure I can commit. It's not fair to her when I still think of Phoebe every day.

I shrug my exposed shoulder and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, pressing my lips to her neck. "I don't know. I'm operating on pure emotion right now."

She smiles as if she understands and says, "Let's just enjoy whatever it is. Did you see the segment of us from the excursion?"

"I did. We garnered the attention of my parents and siblings."

Cameron's fingers swirl across my hand in a soothing motion. "I saw the pain on your face when you saw Elena."

"It shook me. Not only does she resemble Phoebe, but her mannerisms are also the same. Did you know the segments with you are rating higher than the other ladies? Viewers love Margie, but you're polling higher."

She scoffs, "Not something I care about. However, how are you polling? Are people back to loving Winslow Worthington?"

As we lie in bed, I roll her over so she's facing me. "I've never cared whether people like me or not. I have a job, and I do it well. It pisses me off that some random person off the street has the tools to destroy a person in a moment."

"So, when you yelled at the waitress, it was taken out of context?"

"No, but the press thinks I have a perfect life, and I should never have a bad day."

She arches one brow, challenging me.

"Okay, more like a bad week."

I pull her leg over my hip, and she gasps. "What's wrong?"

"My muscles ache. Guess I'm not used to getting sexed up," she teases, and I can't help but smile. "Wipe that grin off your face."

"What grin?"

She presses a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth. "This one. I am really sore."

"Do you have a heating pad or wrap?"

She shakes her head. "No, but I have a sock with rice. You can heat it in the microwave."

I've never met anyone like her—down to earth, gorgeous, strong—all wrapped around me.

"Where can I find this rice sock?"

"Under the bathroom sink."

I scoot out of bed and gather the sock, which looks like a monkey. Warm it for exactly three minutes, and the smell of cooked rice filters through the air. She's lying on her stomach with the sheet covering her to mid back. I roll back the sheet and place it on her lower back.

"Can you move it down more?"

"Is this where you want it?" It lays on the curve of her perfect ass. Sliding back in, I rub her back and every few minutes, I move the rice monkey sock to her thighs and calves, until she falls asleep.

Lying awake, all I can think about is how perfect she feels in my arms and how my heart stutters every damn time she sasses me.

I'm afraid it's all going to come crashing down when she finds out that Phoebe's dead because of me.