30 Days (Morgan Family Series Book 1) (18 page)

“I’m not going to do that, Cameron. I’m a big girl. I can handle your father.”              

“You don’t know him like I know him!”

Memphis comes to stand in front of me and cups my face with her hands. She brushes her lips gently across mine.

“Do you trust me?” she asks.

“I don’t trust him!”

“I need you to trust me. I will not betray you, Cameron.” she states, her fingertips trembling as they trace my jawline. “I will not betray you because…I’m in love with you.”

I close my eyes at her admission. I close my eyes and lower my head to hers, resting my forehead on hers. I hear her uneven breathing.
Her nervousness.
I press my lips to her forehead and feel her relax.
A little.

I unzip her skirt and push it to the floor. I back her to the bed and lift her as I climb onto it.

“Cameron…”

“Shh.”

“Cameron, I…”

“Shh…let me make love to the woman I love.”

We strip each other slowly, not worrying about what time she has to leave. Not worrying about our earlier conversation and the mistrust I have for my father. Not worrying that eventually one of us is going fuck this beautiful thing up. For now, we just want to take our time with each other.

When I sink into her, my heart hammers in my chest. I love her slowly, languidly, lovingly. Each stroke drawn out and leisurely.
Slowly, languidly, lovingly.
She writhes beneath me, raking her nails over my back. Tightening her legs around my waist. I draw out and then glide back into her softness. We come together breathlessly.
Slowly, languidly, lovingly.

When we arrive in Vermont, Mr. Morgan checks us into a five-star hotel. I didn’t expect anything less from him. I stand a few feet away from him as he accepts our room keys from the concierge.

I ride the elevator up with him in silence. It’s much like our plane ride was. We made small talk about what I should expect from this client. He’s being charged with embezzling and is currently on house arrest. He already tried to flee.

Mr. Morgan wants me to take notes.
I feel like I’m a pawn.
In fact, I know I am, but I refuse to play into his game. I won’t let him ruin what I have with Cameron. If it gets ruined, it’ll be by one of us. I know that’s a shitty attitude, but I’d rather our relationship be ruined by our own hands than an outside person. At least then it’s our own fault.
Not someone else’s.

“Here we are.” he announces and slides the key card.

Mr. Morgan holds the door open for me and I step through. He follows in behind me and sits my suitcase on the bed.

“Do you need anything, Ms. Stone?” he asks.

“No sir. I believe I’m all set. Thank you.”

I watch him walk towards the bathroom and then I hear him open a door.

Confused, I peek into the bathroom.

“I requested adjoining rooms.” he explains and I realize he walked through to his room. “Just in case you needed anything.”

“I won’t, Mr. Morgan. I appreciate the gesture though.” I say, politely.

He loosens his tie and then takes it off, placing it on the counter. He unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt then stops.

“I really like my job, Mr. Morgan.” I tell him. “And I love your son.”

I close the door without saying anything else. I half-expect him to open it and tell me I’m fired.
Or worse.
He doesn’t though.

I hear the shower running a few minutes later and I step away from the door. I go sit on the bed and I don’t move until I hear the adjoining door shut. Only then do I go into the bathroom and lock it. I shower and climb into bed.

In the morning after I’ve done my bathroom business and gotten ready, I unlock the door. I sit on the bed and wait for Mr. Morgan to come get me for the meeting.

I hear him moving around in the bathroom and it isn’t long before I hear a faint knock. I open the door and he asks if I’m ready. His friendly nature toward me is still there. His politeness hasn’t changed.
I’m glad.
On the way to the meeting, he finally talks to me.

“You said you loved my son. Does he love you?” he asks.

“He says he does.”

“Hmm. That’s a first. He used to tell every teenage girl he dated that he loved her. That kid thought he was in love with every girl who showed him attention.” he

chuckles. “Then he got a little older and realized those three words shouldn’t always be said. The girls said them to him, but he quit saying them back.”

“Was that when his mom died?”

“It was when his mom got sick. She told him to stop playing with those girls’ hearts. Told him it wasn’t fair to them. He always listened to her. When she died, he…he was different.”

“He says you’re not close.”

“We’re not. I made mistakes that I can’t change. It’s good that we’re not close.”

“Maybe it’s not.” I tell him.

“It is. Our relationship is irreparable.”

“I think if that were true, he wouldn’t be working at your firm.”

He seems to ponder this as he pulls into the parking lot of a small cottage. I

exit the car and follow him into the house of the client we’re meeting. I don’t bring up Cameron again and neither does he. Right now, I just want to get the meeting done so I can get back to him.
Back to the man I love.

I stare down at my empty shot glass and watch the bartender refill it. Rhys tugs on my shoulder, but I shrug him off. I don’t even know why I’m here.
I shouldn’t be.
It’s an asshole move. It’s a fuck up move and I know it.
But I’m still here.

I’m here because Memphis called and said she was staying in Vermont two more days. I asked her not to and she said it was her job. She told me to trust her and that she loved me.
I didn’t say it back.

“We won’t get to see anything good from the bar, Cameron. Quit being a dick!” Rhys hauls my ass off the stool and pulls me to an empty table.

I grumble and slump into the chair beside him as a new dancer enters the stage. Ecstasy is busy for a weeknight and despite Rhys having class tomorrow, he showed up at my apartment.
Unannounced.
He assured me he’d drive back late tonight and still make it to class on time. As wired as he is, I’m sure he’ll have no problem staying awake. Once again, I’m not in the mood to give him a lecture.
Especially when I need one of my own.

I focus on my drink and not on the dancer onstage. Rhys is giving her all the love she needs anyway. I finish my drink and sit the empty glass on the table. I look for a waitress to bring me another one.

“Can I get you another drink?”

I look up at the blonde standing before me and nod. I tell her tequila and she gives me a sultry smile as she picks up my empty glass. When she returns a few minutes later she’s holding two glasses.

“I thought you might need two handsome. I’m Isla. Would you or your friend like a private dance?”

I immediately shake my head no, politely declining her offer. She gives a little pout and this gets Rhys’s attention.

“I’m offering a two-for-one discount for you two.” she smiles.

“I think we should, Cameron. I mean, she’s giving us a discount.” Rhys grins.

“No thanks.” I decline again. “You can call me a cab though.”

“You heard him.” Another female walks up and I look at a somewhat familiar face. Isla scowls, but walks away. “Are you some kind of fuck up?”

I look up at the woman staring down at me with her hands on her hips. I don’t answer her. I’m still trying to figure out how I know her.

“Memphis is out of town and you actually have the balls to come in here.

What a fucking idiot. I’m going to escort your ass out that door and you better take the cab straight the fuck home.”

“Leah?”

“Damn straight, pretty boy.”

“You have red hair tonight.”

“You don’t miss much, do you?”

I stand up, stumbling a little as I do, and she shoves me towards the door. I hear Rhys laughing behind me. Leah deposits me into the cab and despite my head spinning, I give the driver the address to my apartment. I pass out on the couch the moment I walk in the door.

The hangover I have the next morning at work is nothing compared to the feeling I would’ve had if I’d fucked up what I have with Memphis. I knew I shouldn’t have gone with Rhys. He’s single. I’m not.
It’s that simple.

I run my fingers through my hair and fight the urge to lay my head down on my desk. My head is pounding despite the aspirin I took when I woke up. I stare at my computer screen, but the words just aren’t registering.

“Wow. You look like shit.” Blake walks in and gasps when she sees my unruly appearance.

“Good morning to you too.” I grumble.

She walks around my desk and starts fixing my hair, which I know is sticking up because of how many times I’ve pushed my fingers through it.

“You want to talk about it?” she asks.

“Nope. Just a little hungover.”

“That’s obvious. Your eyes get that see-through blue look when you’re hungover.”

“Do you need something?” I snip.

“Can you cover my cases for a couple of weeks? Langston wants me to go on vacation with him. It’s not for a couple of months though. I wouldn’t just spring it on you.”

“That is springing it on me. You know I have the Beasley trial I’m working on.

Plus all my other cases. Can you get one of the other lawyers?”

“I don’t just put my work off on anybody, Cameron.”

“Just your brother.”

“If you don’t want to do it then just say so. I really need this vacation with Langston.”

I notice the tears in her eyes then and the hitch in her voice. I thought everything was perfect between them.
At least she pretends it is.

“Fine.”

I keep my head turned and she tries to wipe her eyes without me seeing her.

She walks past me and plasters a smile back on her face.

“I’ll get the files to you in a few weeks.” she walks to the door and turns back before exiting. “You need to go home and take a shower before Memphis gets back. You reek of alcohol and perfume.”

I think about what I want to say to Cameron as I enter the elevator. I wonder if he’ll confess to going to Ecstasy on his own. I don’t want to ask him.
Shouldn’t have to.
I know he didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t get a private dance. Hell, he didn’t even really watch any dancers. He was just angry that he didn’t get his way. Nervous that his father would make a pass at me.
Nervous that I would give in.

I step off the elevator and a smile tugs at my lips at the soft sound of Marvin Gaye playing throughout his apartment. He’s in a seducing mood tonight. Candles are lit as I walk through the living room.
Pretty slick.

Cameron exits the kitchen wearing an apron.
And only an apron.
I swallow hard and try to focus on what I was going to say to him. I’m supposed to be a little angry with him. Or a lot angry.
Right?

“I made dinner.” he says. “But I want to eat it later.”

He approaches me and my mind starts to get fuzzy. I back up and he advances.
Closer.
Just a few steps away.

“How was your trip?” he asks as he gets closer.

“It was fine. How were things here while I was gone?” I counter.

“I did something stupid.” he mumbles. “I’m not a good person when you’re not around.”

“What’d you do?” I whisper as he pulls me against him. His lips graze over mine and I struggle to keep my eyes open.
What did I want to say to him?

“Went to Ecstasy. Got piss-poor drunk.”

I run my hands over his bare back and then down to his bare ass. I give it a gentle squeeze and he groans against my lips. “Then what?”

“Your friend put my ass in a cab and sent me home.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you need to take me to bed.”

I don’t argue with that. I think that’s exactly what he needs.
What I need.
I don’t want to talk about him being an idiot. I don’t want to reassure him with words that he has nothing to worry about.
I want to take him to bed.

When we walk into his room, he starts to undress me, but I still his hands. “You undress.” I say, firmly.

He cocks his eyebrow at me and I fight to keep from smiling. He does as I say though, removing the apron. I motion to the bed and he lies down, waiting for me. I walk over to his dresser and open his top drawer.
The one I’ve seen him open many times for me.
I pull out three silky strips of fabric and climb onto the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“Whatever I like.” I answer, taking one of his wrists and securing it to the headboard.

He sucks in his breath as I secure the other one. I take the third strip and cover his eyes with it, successfully blindfolding him. He tugs his hands, tightening the ties. A smile plays on his lips as he licks them.

“Am I being punished?” he questions me.