Words and Music by Cameron David (6 page)

Chapter 6

“Here you go. Keep the change.” 

At two o’clock in the morning, Meg and Cam stumbled out of a cab in front of Meg’s apartment. They wrapped their arms around one another to remain upright and progressed slowly to the door. “Celebrated a little too much, I’d say.”

“Do you think my car is going to be okay at The Brickyard?”

“I love you, Meg, but I hate to tell you…your car is a piece of shit.”

“Hey! I love that car.”

“I know you do, but I can’t figure out why. Perhaps it’s the same reason you love me.”

“What’s that mean?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m completely wasted.”

She fumbled with the keys to her apartment door. Holding it up to eyeball it, she said, “I don’t think this is the key to my apartment.”

Cam pointed, “That’s your crawdad keychain.”

“Oh, you’re right.” She tried the key in the door. This time her efforts were rewarded. “Ha! I did it,” she slurred.

They staggered, toppling over the threshold and into one another’s arms. Laughing they both worked to shut the door.

“So…tomorrow is my father’s birthday dinner at Ruth's Chris. What do you think I should get for him?”

“How about a time machine so he can go back and un-ignore you?”

She frowned. “Ouch. That’s hurtful.”

“Meg.” He cupped her chin. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” He kissed her pursed lips.

“You always were a candid drunk.”

“I apologize. Why don’t we go pick him out a nice necktie in the morning?”

“I suppose that’s about the caliper of gift I had in mind.”

“Caliper of gift?”

“Well, I’m definitely not going to spend my precious time pondering a thoughtful gift.”

“No. You’re not. And if you tried, I wouldn’t let you.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come.”

“Where are we going?”

“Bath, then bed.” He pulled her down the hallway to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet to let it heat, and then helped her out of her clothes as she divested him of his.

When they stood naked before one another she said, “Seems a shame to waste good water.” She shot her blue eyes to the steaming glass.

“Are you saying we should shower together?”

“I believe that is what I’m saying.”

“I think you’re more drunk than I thought.”

“I want you, Cam.” Oh God. He would never be able to deny her irresistible sex appeal. His cock had been hard since they’d slow danced at the bar. “Besides, I can see you want me too.” She grasped his erection.

“I always want you Nutmeg.”

She shook her head, “So fuck me in the shower.”

“Christ Meg. What about all that talk of testing our relationship future?”

“Our relationship doesn’t have a future. We only have the here and the now.”

She pulled him into the shower—an action he was glad about because it meant she wouldn’t be able to decipher his tears from the shower water. She took a purple poof and filled it with vanilla bath gel—her scent. She lathered up the contraption while he pondered her favorite color—purple. It was in evidence all over her apartment: her bedclothes, her bath towels, the poof she held in her hands.
Did he have anything purple?
He didn’t think he did. It was yet another thing she’d take with her when she left—color. His world would be plunged into blackness.

“Let me scrub your back.” He turned, giving her access to the space she sought. “Will you sing for me?”

“Sing?”

“You always sing when you shower.”

The only thing he could think to sing was his song for her—
Beautiful
 girl
. So that’s what he sang. He wouldn’t sing the ending because it had yet to be realized. Their story wouldn’t end here.

When he made it to the end of his unfinished song, he had her backed against the wall of the shower, his head hovering over her body and the water raining down on them. His hands slid over her ripe ass and he squeezed before moving to her thighs and lifting her up. “Put your legs around my waist.”

Her hands landed on his shoulders, gripping as she complied with his command. “Meg, hear me when I say this…it’s not our last time. Agree now, or I’m leaving.”

“Of course I agree.”

Using his hands on her ass, he positioned her to take him. Sucking on the spot where shoulder meets neck, he entered her. Her warm center pulled him in with the sweetest squeeze. When he was in fully, she clenched around him and he knew he was home. “God Meg, you always feel so damn good.”

She moaned and sought his lips. His tongue slipped into her mouth and their saliva mixed with the water from the showerhead. As their kiss deepened so did his thrusts. Despite the warmth of the water, he felt the hard points of her nipples against his chest. “Tell me, Meg.”

“I need you, Cam. Hard, deep!”

“Like this”—he pulled out, pushing her hips back to aid his efforts, and then slammed them together.

She screamed, “Yes! Again!”

He repeated the sequence that had her screaming his name. A few more thrusts and she was begging.

“Cam, I need to come.”

“I know baby, but you wait for me okay?”

“Cam, please,” she breathed.
             
“Wait Meg.”
             
He angled her little body just right and used her to achieve what he needed. His body wouldn’t give it to him, subconsciously holding back to keep him in this moment for as long as possible.

“Cameron,” Meg cried. He knew the moment she gave in and climaxed around his throbbing cock, gripping him with impossible force, causing him to plummet over the edge and his body to explode.

“Again, Meg. All night. Again and again.”

They exited the shower and he dried her body as he let his air dry. She ran a comb through her hair while he brushed his teeth. When she reached for the hair dryer, his hand on her forearm halted her actions. He rinsed and dried his mouth. “Let’s go, baby.” He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“Hey put me down. I need to dry my hair.”

“With the heat we’re about to create, it’ll dry on its own.” He carried her to the bed, and then plopped her down, crawling on top of her and growling like a predator. He sucked on the skin at her hip.

“Get in the chair, Cam.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Trust me.”

Recalling the last time he sat naked in that chair, he couldn’t get to the chair fast enough. He sat with his back flush to the chair, but Meg pulled his ankles, effectively dislodging him and pulling his ass to the chair’s edge. With her palms on her chest, she pushed his back down and he couldn’t hold in his delight, “Yes!” His voice was low and raspy. She answered with a sultry giggle.

With her back to him, she positioned herself between his legs. To get leverage she placed her hands on the armrests, and then she climbed aboard, throwing her thighs on either side of his. He loved watching her wave-like movements in this position. Not to mention he could see her taking him and it was hotter than fuck. At the sight of her ass and swollen, wet cunt she already had him groaning like the animal he was.

“Feed me, Cam.”

“Holy shit!” He fisted his cock and she swallowed him slowly. His front row seat had him watching her greedy little cunt struggling, but managing to take him. She rode him slow and methodic—down and back, down and back, his cock glistening in her wake. On each twist of her ass, her rosebud winked at him. He tried to hold on as long as he could, but her pants and moans as she erotically moved over him had him about to blow.

“Meg, it’s so good. I love it like this.”

“I know what you like,” she panted.

“I’m going to come, Meg.”

He rested his hands on her hips and helped her grind him to release. She twisted to step away, but he held her in the position. “We’re not done.”

“We’re not?”

“Did you come?”

“I did in the shower.”

“So did I. We’re not done.” With his hands on her thighs he pulled her legs up to his chest, opening her wide. Inside of her still he lunged deep and she gasped. Using his hips, he pounded her flesh. “Come on babe, touch yourself.”

“Ah…Cameron!”

“Yeah, baby.” He was unrelenting and punishing until he heard her screaming for him to stop. He let her collapse on top of him, his chest rapidly rising and falling from their recent exertion and sex. “That was the most extraordinary thing anyone has ever given me.” He huffed around breaths of much-needed air.

“I agree. We’re really good at that.” He reached his lips to her adorable cheek and gave her a tender kiss.

They stayed entangled together until he heard her yawn and sigh. “Tired?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t move a muscle so he took that as a yes and carefully stood, holding her in the same position and walking her to the bed.

He pulled from her and said, “Don’t move.” He walked to the bathroom and ran warm water over a clean washcloth. When he made it back to the room, she was already asleep—her legs hanging down to the floor. He touched the warm rag to what had to be sensitive flesh between her legs.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Cam!” She sat up and took the rag from him. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

“Baby, I’ve been deep inside every part of you. There’s nothing embarrassing about it. I’m just cleaning up after the mess I made.”

“I guess it is your mess isn’t it.”

She was so cute with her sleepy giggle. He took the cloth and tossed it in the bathroom sink, rushing back to her in the bed.

Tonight he held her in his arms. He had big plans for the morning. He was going to make breakfast and convince her to give him a commitment before she slipped from his fingers.

Chapter 7

Cam watched Meg’s nose crinkle as she slowly woke from sleep. He imagined she dreamed of rich caffeinated notes. “Meg?” He lovingly swept the hair from her face and she cooed in appreciation. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

“Mmm, I love you. Do I smell coffee?”

“You do.” Her eyes fluttered open and he was rewarded with her deep ocean blue beauties. “There’s my girl.” He kissed her cheek, and then passed her a mug of coffee.

“I’m preparing breakfast. When you’re ready, join me in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” she smiled shyly at him, blushing across her cheeks. As well, she should. What they’d done last night was naughty enough to scare the paint from the wall.

He loved how shy she could be, but when he turned her on she became greedy for him.

In the kitchen, he pulled the bagels from the toaster and grabbed an assortment of cream cheese from the fridge. Since they’d missed out on consuming her favorite Neapolitan cookies, he took those out as well. He carried the items to the table and arranged them with care and love. He’d even picked up her favorite flowers—tulips. Feminine sighs came to him from over his shoulder and he turned to assist her to her spot at the table.

“Wow, you did a table-scape. I love it!”

She could always be counted on to rave over all attempts he made at doing anything. Her fingers twisted the vase and she smiled at the yellow flowers. “Are we still celebrating?”

He poured orange juice into her glass. “We are, but you better tie that sash tighter on your robe or we’ll be skipping breakfast.” Her color heightened when she saw that her breast was exposed.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Never be sorry for that. Are you sore?” He placed the pitcher of juice on the counter.

“I’m definitely feeling your presence.”

He took his seat with what he knew was a cocky smile on his face. “Do you want an aspirin?”

“No.” She smiled knowingly and raised a brow at him. “I like to feel you.”

“You’re killing me, Meg.”

She took in the spread before her. “Everything bagels and smoked salmon cream cheese. You’re killing my waistline.” She slathered spread on one-half of a bagel.

“Your waist is beautiful.”

“You’re an idiot in love, what do you know?” She took a Texas-sized bite that left cream cheese behind on her chin.

“Truer words have never been spoken.” He smeared his bagel with chive flavored spread and took a much smaller bite than she had, but he had a conversation to lead. “Meg, I want to talk to you about something and I’d prefer you hear me out before you interrupt. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you.” She set the half eaten piece of bagel on her plate. “I’ve been thinking about your Toronto gig and I feel strongly that we should make a verbal commitment to one another before you embark on that journey. You and me, Meg. It blew my mind when you told me that you had only ever been mine.” His hand grasped at his chest near his heart. “I wish I had that to offer you in return. I don’t, but I can commit to you now. I know I haven’t been around much, but I swear if we make that promise to one another, I’ll find you—wherever you are, I’ll find you.”

She listened to him, but he knew at the moment her resolve stood firm and she wasn’t going to be convinced so easily. Her set mouth and distant gaze caused him to shudder. “Meg, please…I’ve thought about this. We can fly back and forth until we figure out a more permanent solution. As long as we’ve made a promise we know that we can find one another. You’ll be beginning a new job so you won’t have as much availability as I will, but I’ll arrange my schedule to spend one week per month in Toronto. This can work, Meg. Please, let’s commit to being exclusive.”

Her gaze on him was cold, unfriendly. The frown between her eyes told him she was weighing his thoughts against her own. “Are you just doing this because you don’t want me to sleep with another man and ruin your record?”

He gasped in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean now that you know you’re the only one I’ve ever had you’re trying to insure your assets.”

“Meg, that’s cold. Do you really believe I would try to keep you from being happy? I thought it was me who made you happy. Stupidly I thought voicing exclusivity would be something you’d want.”

“Voicing exclusivity. Hmm, it has a nice ring to it. I just have one question.”

“What…anything?”

“Why are you not proposing an engagement if you’re so sold on the idea of you and me together, forever…
happily ever after
?”

“Is that what you want?”

“What I want is something I can’t have.”

“Meg, I’ll do anything to keep you. Tell me what it is you want.”

She stared at him for a moment. Picking at her bagel she said, “I want to come home from work and rush to prepare dinner for you because you’ll be walking through the door, hungry, in less than an hour. I want to squabble over which restaurant we’re going to have brunch at on any particular Sunday. I want you there to hold an umbrella for me when it’s raining outside. But most of all I just want you in my bed every night next to me and again when I wake up.”

“You will have that—all of it. It will take time, but I swear one day you’ll have all of that.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t have an exact date. I’m touring right now and I’ve got a new record cutting end of next year so I’ll have to go around and do promotions and a tour playing the new tracks”—

“There’s always going to be another record or a promotional tour to complete. I can’t say goodbye to you every month. Every four weeks I’ll have to get over a broken heart. I’m not made that way—I can’t do it.”

“No I’m going to find a solution, I just can’t see it yet.”

“When you figure it out maybe we can give it a try then. Why do we have to do it now?”

He shook his head and pushed at his plate. “I just need to know that you’re mine. I love you. I don’t think I will survive you leaving if we don’t make some kind of promise to one another. Please, Meg. For God sakes…please.”

She grasped his hands. “I just can’t do it, Cam.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to visit you in Toronto?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know how to say it any clearer. I’m not made that way—it would kill me to say goodbye to you every single month. I can’t even imagine how depressed I’d be. I wouldn’t be fit to work or do anything, but wait for you to return to me. I can’t live like that.”

“How do you know before we even give it a try?”

She stood. “Cam…I can’t. I don’t want to discuss it anymore.” She left the kitchen and proceeded to the living room.

After a few minutes, he heard the shower. His memories were bittersweet. What a difference a few hours could make. He cleared the table, putting the leftover food into the fridge, and then began washing the dishes by hand. He tried to understand her point of view, but couldn’t. She wouldn’t even try to build a life with him. He wasn’t worth even her attempt. He’d been through a lot in his young life—his parents’ death and Ashton’s sickness, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling more hurt than he did now. He could no longer stay with her at the little apartment she’d made into a warm, cozy home.

After he’d removed all traces of his lovingly arranged breakfast, he gathered his clothes, folding them and placing them in his top load military duffle bag. He buckled the clips on top of the bag together. As he was just finishing she came into the living room and sat on the couch—freshly showered. He grabbed his boots and stepped into them, securing the laces in silence. He found it hard to look at her after all the pain she’d caused.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stay with Max for the duration of my break.”

“You don’t have to leave, Cam.”

“You’re wrong, Meg. I do have to leave. If I don’t I’m afraid of what I may do. I’m so distraught words like kidnapping and abduction come to mind.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You can’t say things like that to me. Either you want me or you don’t. You say you can’t live in a long distance relationship…well, I can’t live with you and not have you be completely mine.” He stood, put his duffel over his shoulder, and walked out her door…for the last time.

***

Meg was mad enough to spit nails. He wasn’t even going to say goodbye. She watched him walk to a cab he’d apparently called while she’d showered. The day was just going to suck big, sweaty, low hanging balls. She sighed and pulled her laptop from the attaché case. While she waited for it to boot up she recalled their night of sexual aerobics and decided, she had cause to forgo the gym today. She also thought about brownie fudge ice cream and dug through the freezer, unearthing an untouched pint. She grabbed a spoon and sat in front of her computer at the kitchen table. Drafting her resignation letter proved harder than she thought. She’d loved her job at
Baton Rouge Thirty Nine
and was sad to end this chapter of her life no matter how exciting the next chapter promised to be.

Her emotions were all over the place and at the center was a green-eyed rock god named Cam. She dug into the carton of ice cream, filling the spoon with a bite almost too large, but filled with plenty of brownie. The concoction was cold and pain shot through the nerves in her teeth. She dropped the spoon and soothed her jaw with her palm.

An entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s later she had her finished letter loaded into an email addressed to her station manager. Her finger hovered over the trackpad
. Why could she not press send?
And then rationalization hit—of course this sort of thing is always best delivered in person. Yes, that was it. She needed to deliver her letter in person.

Meg felt the need to veg out for the entire day. She purchased the entire sixth season of
True Blood
from iTunes and had made it through six episodes and one California bacon ranch pizza when she realized she’d need to get dressed and ready for meeting her father and his new family at Ruth's Chris. She hated that restaurant. Nothing good had ever happened to her there. It was where her father had told her he was divorcing her mother.

She dressed in a cream-colored sleeveless dress. The satin belt was black and so she outfitted her feet with black suede platform pumps, feeling satisfied with herself since her father’s new wife was quite tall and unable to wear much of a pump. She should quit saying new wife. After all, it had been ten years since he’d divorced her mother—
or had her mother divorced him?
She could never quite seem to get a straight story from either of them. One thing was certain—their new spouses both sucked and she would bet money they resented her. It was the vibe she got whenever she visited.

She massaged her temples with her fingers. A stress headache was already forming. She thought how awesome it would be to text and say she was too much under the weather to attend the birthday dinner. But she would do her daughter’s duty—alone as she’d lost the support of Cam.

She’d stopped by the mall and picked out a blue silk tie and had it professionally gift-wrapped. She stood in the parking lot of the restaurant, staring at the front door of the establishment. She’d watched them go in—a respectable family of four—an attractive dark haired man and his blonde wife and their two blonde children.

Taking a deep breath she then found the gumption to propel her legs forward. When she gave her name, the greeter escorted her to their table.

Her father stood. “There she is.” He offered her a quick, clinical hug—more of a pat really, and then he sat back down next to Patricia.

Patricia eyed Meg and nodded, “Megan, how are you?”

“I’m well. Thanks.” As usual her now eight and six-year-old half brothers ignored her.

Meg set the tie box on the table and pushed it over to her father. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“I’ll just open it later.” He picked up the box and put it in his jacket pocket.

The waiter approached and asked for their drink order. “Pat, do you want to split a half bottle of pinot noir?”

“Sounds good.”

He ordered
their
wine. If he’d sprung for a bottle, they could have all shared, but she was used to not being considered. When it was her turn to order, she said, “I’ll just have water. Thanks.”

The talk was stilted. Mostly Patricia spoke about politics and the lack of Christian influence in school and government. Her father nodded his agreement.

It was now time to place food orders. The steaks could be single serve, but the sides were served family style. This proved excellent for her father and stepmother. “Pat what do you think about the duck fat potatoes and an order of creamed spinach?”

“It’s your birthday dinner—knock yourself out.”

He ordered for them—just for them, and then he ordered children’s portions for their brats. She’d been shut out again. Unconsidered. Looking over the menu, she decided it would be less conspicuous and much friendlier to her budget to order a side salad and a small filet of steak. Her head pounded so she pressed her fingers to her brow where the bulk of the tension had settled. Warm hands on her bare shoulders startled her. Turning, she locked eyes with Cam.