Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (28 page)

Her face instantly lights up, brighter than my Christmas tree.  “Ooh, can I give you your gift first?  Please?”

Her enthusiasm almost makes me want to celebrate this holiday.  “Of course.”

“Yay!  Oh, gosh, I hope you like it,” she says, clapping her hands together.  I can’t imagine not liking anything she gives me.  Just knowing she thought of me has me rubbing at my chest.  This woman makes me feel things I never thought possible.

She puts a bag with a big, smiling Santa face in my lap.  There’s red and green tissue paper sticking out in varying angles and I’m not sure why I’m so drawn to the festivity of the colors or the way Santa seems to be telling me, “It’s about time you accept a gift, Grant.”

I hesitantly pull the paper away and peek inside.  I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find, but the picture frame I pull out certainly is not it.  I’m lost in the pictures before me.  The memories of our snowball fight are laid out before me and I can’t figure out how she got these pictures.  They were taken by the paparazzi.  What frazzles me the most is the image of our faces nearly touching.  I was going to kiss her that night.  I wanted to kiss her, and it was not in the way a friend should feel about a friend.

“How?”  It’s the only word I can manage to say.

She places her hand over mine.  “I asked Eddie if he could help me get them.  He has connections.”

Such a simple answer to a thoughtful gift.  I don’t know if anyone has ever put this much thought into anything involving me.

“Thank you, Cammie.”

I’m too emotional over her gift to say more.  Instead of stammering and saying things that make no sense, I place the frame on the coffee table and go to the tree for her gift.  Her excitement is palpable and it makes me worry that my present isn’t enough.  I slowly walk back to her and sit down.  As I place the bag on her lap, I say, “If you don’t like it, I can always get you another gift card to
Joe’s.
”

She shakes her head at me and starts tearing at the tissue paper.  Mine was nowhere near as fancily done as hers, and thank goodness for that.  She’s ripping it out of the bag like a little child.  A smile touches her face the entire time and as she pulls the gift from the bag, a gasp leaves her lips.  I’m not sure what to make of that.

“Buttercup?”

Cammie looks up at me as a single tears falls down her cheek.  She gently rests the ‘Grow Your Own Buttercups’ kit I bought her on my coffee table and jumps into my arms.  “Thank you, Grant.  That is the most perfect gift I’ve ever gotten.”

We stay in the embrace for what feels like hours, comfortably holding each other.  It’s really only minutes, but I’m not letting go until she does.  When she pulls back, she doesn’t fully let go.  She backs up just enough to look me in the eye.  “I have another gift for you.  Well…it’s really a gift for me.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” I ask, curious as to what she’s talking about.  I don’t see anymore presents to unwrap.

“I want to be with you, Grant.”

I stiffen beneath her touch.  “Cammie, no.  I’m not the g—”

“Shh.  Please hear me out before you deny me the gift I asked Santa for.”  She smirks at me and all I can do is nod.  “I’ve heard you tell me you’re not a good man—many times.  I’ve heard you tell me you’re no good for me, but I want you to listen to why I think you’re the perfect man to give me this gift.”

“I’m not perfect at all,” I argue, shaking my head.

She lays her fingers over my lips.  “You are and this is why.  From the moment I got here, you have been by my side, making sure I fit in.  You’ve been the person who has made me smile no matter how bad my days have been.  You make sure I’m comfortable in every situation, even when you’re not, and you’re willing to walk away from me if you think it’s best for me.  You love me.”

“Cammie, I… I…” I can’t think of what to say to her.  If she’s asking me to tell her I love her, I can’t do that.  I do love her, but I’m in no way comfortable admitting that.  I’m far too fucked up to give that kind of control over to someone.

“It’s okay.  I’m not asking you to admit anything.  You love me as a friend and that’s enough for me.  I see how you are with everyone else.  You tolerate them, but me…you let me in and opened your heart.  We may joke about being besties, but I truly believe I am that to you and I know you are that for me.  I have watched my friends back home lose their virginity to boyfriends they thought they’d be with forever, only to have the relationship end soon after.  They loved each other so much and weeks, maybe months, later, they hated each other.  To me, the love of friendship is much stronger and means more.”

She leans in and lightly kisses my lips.  She doesn’t linger.  There’s nothing sexual about it.  It’s more about comfort, I think.  Maybe she can tell I’m freaking out.

“I love you, Grant.  You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and the love of our friendship is what tells me you are the perfect man.  Please don’t say no.”

I sit there in silence, unsure how to answer her.  I’m a liar and a horrible person…and there’s so much she doesn’t know about me.  If I take her virginity, she’ll be sleeping with a man she doesn’t know.  I can’t have that.

“Cammie, I—”

“Grant, please.  I want you…no, I need you to take care of this ache you started.  Please.”  She grips onto the back of my neck and her eyes plead with me.

I nod and she smiles at me.  “First, I have to tell you something.  It may change how you feel about me.”

Her smile drops and she backs off my lap.  I feel her loss instantly.  I can’t tell her everything because I know I’ll lose her, but there is something I need to tell her.  I only hope I can trust her with this information.

“Tucker is my brother,” I blurt out.

“Ex-excuse me?” she stutters.  “Brother?  I think you need to explain because that doesn’t make any sense.”  She throws her arms across her chest and I know I’m in for a long night.

I begin the long conversation about Nathan’s illness, finding out he wasn’t my father, learning my mother slept around to create me, and how I became aware that I had a brother.  I watch her eyes grow larger at every aspect of the story and tears fall freely down her face as she hears the tragedy of my life.  I want to comfort her, but I fear she’ll be the one comforting me.

I can’t have that.

I’ve lived my life being strong, going after those who have wronged me.  I can’t allow her to reduce me to a weeping pile of emotions.

“I don’t understand.  I asked Tucker if he knew you,” she says around a sniffle.

“Why would you do that?” I ask.

She gives me a guilty look and I know I won’t like her answer.

“I’m so sorry, Grant.  I wasn’t really sick last month.  Tucker told me you sent the paparazzi after him in New Hampshire.  I was confused about why you would try to hurt him.  I spent those three days trying to find information on you and Tucker.”

“And did you find information on us?” I ask in a clipped tone.

“Not a whole lot,” she replies.  “But I did learn you grew up just a couple towns away from each other, so I asked Tucker if he knew you back then.  He swore he didn’t and seemed surprised by the information.”

I want to kick myself in the ass.  I’m sitting here, irritated with her for snooping, when I should have been honest with her from the start.  I knew I was falling for her and she’s good friends with the man I want to destroy.  I never should have put her in the middle, but now that’s exactly what I have to do.

“We didn’t know each other then.”

“Does he know you’re his brother?” she asks, curiously.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.  You may be friends with him and see a great side to him, but I don’t.  I see the guy who got our father while I was abandoned by two.  I hate him.”

“But, Grant –”

“No, Cammie.  Do not try to tell me otherwise.  Now, I hate to do this, but I have to ask that you do not tell Tucker.  There will come a time that he and I discuss our family history, but it will be on my terms.  I’m sorry I have to ask you to keep this secret from your friend.”

“I can’t believe you think I would tell him.  It’s not my place to say anything,” she says, giving me a look that would make the Hulk cower.

“Forgive me for being crass, but the two people I should have been able to trust in my life, betrayed me.  I don’t leave anything to chance.”

“Oh, Grant.”

She climbs back onto my lap and pulls my face into her hands.  “Thank you for trusting me with your story.  It only convinces me further that you are the perfect man to receive the gift I want to give you.  Now, how about you unwrap me?”

Son of a bitch
.  There’s no way I can say no now.

Lifting her into my arms, I carry her into my bedroom and lay her down on my bed.  Her dark hair fans across my mattress and I’m grateful I had thought to turn all the lights in the apartment down earlier.  There’s enough light to see her perfection, but hopefully not make her feel insecure.  Women can be so finicky about these things.

“I love your t-shirt, by the way,” she says.

I look down and chuckle.  I had forgotten about it.  There’s a large picture of mistletoe and it says,
Kiss whatever you meet under the mistletoe
with an arrow pointing down.  I pull it over my head and throw it at her.  “You can keep it.”

She smiles and brings her hands up to my bare chest.  I let her explore my skin, unsure of how far she’s gone in her past.  Hunger burns bright in her eyes and she bites her bottom lip.  That’s a new habit I’ve seen from her lately.  It makes me hot as fucking hell.  I want to scoop that lip out and nibble on it myself.

“Would you like me to take off some of my clothes?” she asks in a slight whisper.

She has no idea how much I would love for her to give me a strip tease, but I don’t think she’s anywhere near ready for that.  “I’ll help you, buttercup.”

With slow, steady hands, I grab the hem of her sweater and inch it up her stomach.  I bend over and allow my mouth to blaze a trail of kisses that follow the fabric up her skin.  Her soft gasps have my dick begging to be released from my jeans, but I give him a mental screaming, telling him to wait his turn.  Cammie will get treated like a lady, even if it kills me.

“You’re going too damn slow,” she hisses and sits up, her stomach slapping into my cheek.  I laugh at her impatience.  She pulls her sweater over her head and I see the uncertainty set in.  She’s before me, in her bra, and what a beautiful bra it is—red lace.  Apparently, my buttercup chose to be festive with every aspect of her gift giving.

I push her back down to the bed and gently bite her nipple through the lacy fabric.  A soft, “Oh,” sounds throughout the room.  I continue to lap the nipple without removing any more clothing, working her up into a frenzy.  Her nails scratch at my back and her moans echo off the walls.

“Grant, please.  This isn’t enough.”

Her pleading words start me on a journey southward.  I pop open the button on her jeans and the sound of her zipper has me feeling like my dick will explode.  I ease her out of her pants and simply stare at her exquisiteness.  Her panties match her bra and I almost don’t want to take them off.  If I didn’t need to get inside her, I would just stay here, on my knees, and worship her, in this goddamn panty set.

“Do you need to take a fucking picture?”

Ooh, feisty.

“Have you ever had an orgasm before, buttercup?” I ask gently.

She’s silent for a second and then she nods.  My heart plummets knowing another man has touched her.  They haven’t taken everything she has to offer, but they’ve tasted her sweet nectar.

“I’ve gotten myself there,” she says shyly.

Oh, mother of all that’s holy.
  I feel like my heart is about to burst from my chest.

“This is going to feel very different, Cammie.  I’m going to make you feel very good, but the sex, it will hurt.  I’m sorry.  I’ll go as easy as I can, okay?”

She nods again, but she has a smile so big, she takes my breath away.

“I trust you, Grant.”

With her trust in my heart, I lower my head to her panties and place a kiss to her center.  She lets out a deep moan.  “I know we’re friends, buttercup, but you need to know, I don’t share.”

I think she makes some kind of sound of agreement, but I’m not paying attention.  My mind is focused on removing her panties and kissing back up her long legs.  Her silky skin under my lips is an aphrodisiac I’ve never experienced.  I’ve never gone this slow with a woman, never wanted to, and I’m hoping she’ll be up for doing it again.  I run my nose along her seam and inhale her scent before I take my first taste of her divinity.  She tastes every damn bit as sweet as I thought she would, better than cold watermelon on a hot summer’s day.

I’m addicted to her.

Her back arches at every stroke of my tongue, her cries ringing out in the night.  I slide a finger into her wetness and start pumping her in time with my tongue, enjoying feeling her come apart beneath me.  She’s so damn tight.

“Oh, God.  I can’t do this, Grant.  It’s too much.”

She starts writhing under me, but I push her harder as her cries grow louder.  I reach my other hand up and pinch her nipple—hard.  Her muscles contract around my finger as she screams my name and I lick up all she has to offer.  My face stays buried between her thighs until I’ve brought her down and the spasms are calmed.

Her breathing is still a bit heavy when I stand up and remove the rest of my clothes.  Her eyes follow my every move and I love the attention.  I make a show of putting the condom on, stroking myself a bit first.  The way she licks her lips, I can tell she’d like to have me in her mouth, but now is not the time for that.  I crawl between her legs, open them wide and look her in the eyes.

“Want me to ease in or push through fast?  Your choice.”

“Both,” she jokes.

“Both it is,” I reply.

I don’t give her a chance to figure out what I mean as I enter just the head and pull out.  She moans in appreciation.  I do it again and gain the same reaction.  The next few times, I go a little deeper, but never too deep.  She starts to relax and when I feel her finally let go, I plunge all the way in.