The Fix Up (16 page)

Sterling

I wanted to give Camryn some time, so I’ve kept myself busy with the mountain of work on my desk, but now it’s after five and my heart is in my throat.

I grab my leather carry-all, cell phone, and suit jacket, and head out. The New York City streets are filled with weary commuters and cyclists and cabbies, all jockeying to get through the throngs. They long to be home with loved ones. There are wives to kiss, children who need a bath, crying babies who miss their mothers, and meals to be enjoyed at tables all around the city. It’s something I’ve never taken the time to consider, but on this cool fall evening, I feel more alone than I have in a very long time.

I could call up a mate, go to a pub, enjoy a pint, and maybe even pick up a girl to bring home. But the only girl I want is Camryn. I could go visit my mother. Except what if she’s having one of her off days, and doesn’t recognize me? I don’t think I’m game for any more rejection right now.

I’ve spent years telling myself I don’t want to settle down, that matrimony is for fools. But seeing these people around me, rushing to get home to loved ones while I have nothing, it’s a stark dose of reality. I hop on the train that will carry me to my building and check my cell yet again. Still nothing.

I finally decide to text her.

Sterling
: Can we talk tonight?

I stare at my phone for several seconds, hoping her response is positive and immediate.

But my phone remains sadly silent. Briefly, I consider going to the gym instead of going home. I keep a spare set of clothes in my locker there. Lifting weights and jogging around the track would be better than sitting alone at my apartment, but I decide I don’t have the energy for that.

I’m emotionally exhausted, and I’m beginning to think, maybe this is it. Maybe this really is the end for Camryn and me. A man can only hold out hope for so long before he gives up. But I’ve never been a quitter, and part of me refuses to accept this is the end.

Just then, my phone buzzes in my hand.

Camryn
: I’m on my way home from work. But yes, I think we should talk.

Her message gives nothing away, and of course I’m dying to know how she’s feeling, what she thought when she saw her photo in that folder.

Sterling
: I’ll meet you at home. That okay?

Camryn
: Sure.

My heart starts pumping in earnest. I could fist-bump the guy sitting next to me, but I refrain. I haven’t been this fucking excited since she agreed to share my hotel room Friday night.

By the time I trek all the way across town toward Camryn’s flat, it’s almost seven. I stop and grab a bottle of white wine and a pint of ice cream. We’ve both probably missed dinner, and in times of stress, there’s no better dinner than sugar and alcohol. At least, that’s my theory.

When I finally make it to her door, Camryn answers, still in her work clothes—a royal-blue silk blouse that reminds me of the color of the British flag, and fitted black pants that hug her curves. She looks beautiful. The only change from when I saw her this morning is that she’s ditched the nude-colored high heels and is barefoot.

Without those killer heels she favors, she looks so small and vulnerable. I hate to think that she was hurting all weekend after thinking I’d hooked up with Rebecca. Quite the opposite—I called security on her ass, and she left kicking and screaming obscenities at me.

“Can I come in?”

She opens the door wider. “Yes, sorry.”

We’ve both sort of spaced out, our eyes drinking in the other after a long, weary day.

I follow Camryn inside and set the shopping bag on her counter. “Have you eaten dinner?”

She shakes her head, still watching me curiously.

“I brought wine and dessert.”

“For dinner?”

I nod. “It’s not gelato, but it should do the trick.”

“Sounds perfect.” She gathers two wineglasses and two spoons while I use her bottle opener to uncork the wine.

We take everything out to the couch as if by unspoken agreement. Sitting next to her TV is a stack of DVDs of the reality show
The Millionaire Matchmaker
.

“Really?” I chuckle, motioning toward the DVDs.

She shrugs, digging her spoon into the now softened chocolate ice cream. “It was research.”

There are so many things I want to say to her, but I have no idea how to begin, so for a few minutes we sit in silence, taking turns spooning heaping bites of ice cream directly from the pint.

Setting my spoon aside, I pick up my glass of wine and take a sip. “How was your day?”

She takes one more bite of ice cream, then sets her spoon next to mine on the coffee table. “After letting Anna go, and then trying to pick up where she left off with some of our clients, it was stressful. Thank you for bringing this by.”

“Did you happen to look in the folder?” I ask, growing impatient.

She takes another sip of her wine and then sets it down on the table. “I did.”

Her tone is subdued, and I have no fucking clue what to make of that.

“And?”

She turns to face me on the sofa, her fiery green eyes looking sad. “And I have no idea what it means. You want to marry me? You want to date me?”

I reach over and take her hands, folding them in mine on my lap. “I want a relationship. I want you in my life. After everything—getting to know you, introducing you to my mum, trying to deny my attraction—I’m done. None of those women held a candle to you. You’re the only one I want.”

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, looking unsure. “What about the inheritance?”

Inhaling sharply, I squeeze her hands. “I don’t know, but I won’t live a lie or deny myself any longer. I want to make you mine.”

Pulling her into my arms, I lean forward and kiss her, softly at first, then deeper as her body molds to mine.

She pulls away suddenly, placing a hand on my cheek. “I have no idea if I’ll be ready to get married five months from now, and in fact, I doubt I will be. And besides that, the idea of marrying someone so quickly is a little insane, no offense.” Her hand falls away, and I miss her sweet touch almost instantly.

“None taken. It’s scary. I get that more than anyone. Marriage is a huge leap of faith, and I never thought it was something I would take on.”

“But now . . . because of the money?” Her tone is uncertain.

“Fuck the money. I won’t be controlled by it.”

“But what about your mother?”

My gaze drifts away from hers. “I don’t know.”

She nestles in closer to me, and I know we can both feel it. Love is scary and unpredictable, and neither of us wants to lose what we’ve just started to build. I tighten my arms around her possessively, unsure what might happen next.

“I need you, Cami. Tell me if you don’t want this, say it. Tell me no.”

She doesn’t say anything, instead she rises from the couch and takes my hand, tugging me up after her. Pulling me silently behind her, she leads us to the bedroom.

Standing inches apart in the center of her bedroom, I meet her gaze with hungry desire. The last rays of the evening sun are gone, and the glowing lamp on the end table creates a dim glow around us.

Taking my time, I strip us of each piece of clothing in turn.

I remove her shirt, my fingers grazing the lace of her bra, then pull my own shirt overhead, placing her palm against my chest.

Next her pants and silk knickers are stripped off, and I grip her cute arse in my palms, giving it a firm squeeze.
Mine
, I want to growl. Instead, I shove my trousers and boxers down, then bring her hand to my steely cock. Her fingers curl lightly around me, and I grunt out a breath.

“Cami . . .”

She strokes me lazily up and down like we have all the time in the world.

“That feels really fucking good.” I groan, bending down to kiss her neck.

Palming her full breasts, I enjoy the way her breath catches in her throat when my thumbs graze her perky nipples.

Wanting more, I take her hand and guide us to the bed, laying her down before me. I plan to thoroughly worship her tonight.

I taste her lips, feel them part and hear her groan when my tongue meets hers. Then I work my way lower, kissing her slender throat, the valley of cleavage I create with my hands, then her soft belly.

She’s perfection. Every inch of her, inside and out.

Reaching between her legs, I’m pleased to find her wet, and tell her so. A little whimper is the only response I get, not that I was expecting one. As I massage her clit with my thumb, her whimpers increase in volume, transforming into moans as I press harder.

I could toy with her all night. But I won’t, because believe it or not, my cock has needs too. Still, a gentleman always ensures his partner gets off first, and that’s one rule I will never compromise on when it comes to Cami.

Slowly, I slide two fingers deep inside her snug body, pushing them in as far as they’ll go. She’s warm and tight, and so lovely. Watching her eyes drift closed as I fuck her with my fingers, I grab a fistful of her hair, tilting her head, and take her mouth with mine. My cock twitches with the need to be inside her as I slide my fingers in and out in a maddening rhythm.

“Wait,” she says on a moan. “Sterling . . . wait.”

Pausing with my fingers still buried inside her, I break from the kiss to meet her hazy eyes.

“Make love to me,” she whispers.

“Do we need to grab a condom?” I ask, one hand on her cheek, the other still fucking her.

I recognize that last time, in the heat of the moment, we didn’t use a condom. Today, I’m more prepared with a couple of the buggers stashed in my wallet, but remembering the way her bare skin felt against mine, I’m hoping we can forgo them. Guilt should have been the only emotion I had after fucking her without a condom the first time; instead, my only thought was
again
. The idea of putting something between us is maddening.

She cocks her head to the side, considering it. “It’s okay. I trust you. And I’m on the pill.”

Sliding my fingers out slowly, I bring them to my mouth, sucking them clean. “So fucking sweet, Cami.” I’m dying to taste her again, to feel her body quake as she comes against my mouth. But I need her just as badly as she needs me.

Positioning myself over her, I hold my weight on my elbows while Camryn reaches between us and brings me to the warm, wet slit between her legs.

Heaven
.

“Slow,” she begs as I begin to press forward.

“Are you sure?” I tease her, sinking in just an inch, then pulling back again.

She lets out a frustrated grunt, angling her hips up. “More.”

Thought so, love
. I want to laugh, but she feels so fucking amazing as I sheath myself in tight, hot velvet, I let out a ragged groan instead.

Reaching down to grip her ass in one hand, I roughly pull her onto my cock each time I thrust. Soon, I’m buried deep and we’re both breathing hard.

What began as something sweet and tender has turned intense and passionate. I pound into her again and again, and Camryn cries out, scratching my shoulders and back as she fights to hang on.

I grip her tightly as though I’m holding on to a precious treasure. “That’s it, baby. You like that?”

“Yes,” she cries. “More, Sterling, more.”

Giving her every ounce of pleasure I can, I rock into her, our desire building.

“I love you.” I groan, kissing her neck.

“I love you too.” She sobs out the words, her lips seeking mine.

She clings to me as her climax rushes through her, and feeling the way her body tightens and milks me, I follow her over the edge.

“Baby, you okay?” I brush her hair back from her face and kiss her swollen lips.

“I’m much better than okay. Holy shit, Sterling.”

Chuckling against her lips, I pull out slowly, groaning as I withdraw from her body.

As I clean her up and watch her lounge in the bed, I think to myself what a lucky bastard I am.

Crawling back in beside her, I tug Camryn close. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I know I need her in my life.

Camryn

Sterling and I are spooned together under my sheets. It’s just after daybreak, and we’ve both got to head off to work in a little while, but I wish we could stay like this forever.

We didn’t get much sleep last night. If I thought last Friday was good, that was merely a taste of what this man can deliver. It turns out he can go for hours. And then some.

We had sex, cuddled, had sex again, ordered pizza at midnight, ate naked, then took a bath. Then we made love slowly, and slept for all of four hours. It was heaven. The best part wasn’t all the sex, although that was perfect. It was hearing Sterling tell me he loves me. I still don’t know what happens next, but I hope we can face, together, whatever happens next.

“You awake?” he asks, his voice groggy.

“I think so,” I whisper.

He turns me around in his arms so we’re facing each other. “Morning, love.”

I smile up at him. “Morning.”

He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose and smiles back at me. For a moment, I fear I’ve done things totally backward. I’ve fallen in love with Sterling, slept with him—numerous times now—all before we were even officially dating. That was in stark contrast to the proper order, according to my matchmaker research.

But then I tell my inner voice to stuff it. I’m happy. That’s all that counts, right?

Rolling over, I heft myself up from the bed.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Sterling’s arms wrap around my waist as he tugs me down on top of him.

“To shower. We’ve got to go to work, right?”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m suddenly feeling quite ill. Think I might have to call in sick and stay in bed all day.”

My mouth lifts in a smile. “Oh, really?”

“What do you say? Olivia will understand, won’t she?”

I’ve very rarely taken a sick day. I actually don’t think she’ll mind, given everything that’s happened. Plus, when your boss is also your best friend, there are a few perks.

“What will we do all day?” I ask with a smirk.

“I can think of a few things . . .” Sterling’s palms slide up my thighs and I squirm, ticklish under his skillful touch.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” I place my hands on his firm chest, loving the hard ridges of muscle I find, and push back against him. Of course, my efforts don’t even budge him an inch.

“We can stay in bed until late morning, go out to breakfast, maybe take a walk in the park, come back, nap, fuck again.” He grins. “Like a real couple.”

“Sounds dreamy.” I chuckle.

“But first, there’s something I want to tell you.” His voice turns serious, and I lift my head from the spot I’ve claimed on his shoulder to meet his gaze.

“I need you to know that I want to marry for love, not money. And I know this might scare the shit out of you, because it’s surprised the shit out of me, but when I think of being married, the only woman I see standing beside me as I make those vows is you.” He meets my eyes as his fingers trace lazy circles over my hip bone. “I never expected to want this. But I do.”

My heart jumps into my throat, and I’m not sure what to say. Is he proposing? We’re naked, for fuck’s sake. And I wasn’t even certain if we were dating.

“But,” he continues. “I want to wait.”

All the breath pushes out of my lungs, and I don’t know if I’m relieved or worried. “Wait?”

“And not because I actually want to wait,” he says. “I would make you mine tomorrow if I could. But because I want to show you that marrying you has nothing to do with getting my inheritance. A smart woman once told me that actions speak louder than words, and so that’s what I intend to do, to date you for however long it takes to show you that I want you as my wife.” His fingertips dance over my skin so lightly, they burn. “I want to wake up next to you every day and make love to you every night. I want to take you to Italy and put little babies in your belly. I want to grow old with you, Cami.”

Tears are freely streaming down my cheeks. I was wrong before about the nickname Cami. Cami isn’t a girlfriend you watch football with on Sundays. Cami is a
wife
, someone you build a life with. Cami is the name you call out from the baby’s bedroom because his diaper has exploded and you need backup. It’s the loving nickname you whisper in the dark when you need to know you’re not alone. And I can see all of that and more in his loving gaze.

“Say something,” he whispers.

I take a moment, trying to find my voice. “Life is hard. Adulting is hard. Sometimes it sucks, actually.” I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hands, drawing strength as I speak. “But facing it together? Having you at my side? The man who makes me laugh, who makes every gloomy day seem brighter just by being in it?”

I pause to collect myself. My throat is so tight, and more tears threaten to escape. But these are happy tears. Sterling swipes under my eyes with his thumbs, and I take a deep, steadying breath.

“The man who makes love like a porn star, who makes me insane with desire . . .”

He leans in and steals a quick kiss.

“Of course I want this. At whatever pace feels right for us both.”

“That makes me so fucking happy,” he says with a groan.

“Wait.” I sit up suddenly, tugging the sheet up to cover my breasts. “You’re not marrying me for a green card, are you?”

At this, he bursts out laughing. “No, love. I live in this country legally. But that was cute.” He tugs the sheet from my grasp. “Don’t hide those beautiful tits from me again. I’m practically your husband.”

A bubble of laughter rises in my throat at the absurdity of it all, but then Sterling’s hot mouth closes over one nipple, and my laughter fades into a low moan.