9:47PM
10/21/2010 Logan, Maine
She heard the door open, her body instantly on alert. The dim light of the night light showed Jon's shadow. The soft thud of his clothes on the chair beside her bed felt louder than it was. As usual, he tugged on a pair of sweats that Bruce had brought in. Her sheets whispered and fluttered as he settled in next to her. "I know you're awake."
She tensed, keeping silent.
"C'mon, Cam. The whole bed practically vibrated when I got in."
"Don't flatter yourself," she heard herself say and cursed.
"I knew it."
His palm found her hair unerringly, smoothing down the heavy mass slowly before he played with the ends. Disconcerted as much as it eased her, she just didn't understand how his touch could confuse her so throughly. He nosed into her neck, his lips brushing her bare shoulder before he settled into a comfortable position.
Instinctively she rolled into him, sighing as his arms encircled her. In the dark it was easier to lean on him. She hated that she needed his arms around her, even for a few hours, but she couldn't deny the way her mind settled the minute he touched her. Even when they'd first met, before he knew what he was getting into, he'd held her through the nightmares and she'd slept for the first time in months. And now, the cyle was repeating.
Just how much was repeating, and how much would change? Would Lucas kill them both this time?
Her fingertips drew up his arm to the firm bicep and then to his tricep until she reached his shoulder and then repeated. His low, almost imperceptible groan made her bolder. What would it feel like to want a man for the simple sake of wanting? She couldn't remember.
Before Lucas, she'd tripped her way through a series of men that were more mistake than good fortune. None of them were as bad as Lucas, but none of them were anything important either. She'd simply drifted through life, walking into one disappointment after another. She'd been ripe for the picking when Lucas had found her.
And then there was Jon. She almost wished she hadn't met him. It was only one more glaring example of just how desolate her life had become. From monster to hermit, she'd simply created a new cage for herself. Lucas held the power, even now. She didn't think she could hate that man more, but she was wrong.
With her other hand she curled her arm around Jon's head, her fingers finding his thick sandy hair. It wasn't quite as soft as it looked, but it sifted through her fingers drawing closer to the heat of the back of his neck and the rippling muscles of his shoulders.
"Cam?"
She could hear the warning in his voice. Just the idea that someone like him could love her, could want her--it just wasn't possible. But maybe, just maybe she could touch a little part of his kindness and strength and wrap it around herself. The hand that held her so loosely tightened in response. She took his hand and slid it under her shirt.
When he went stone still and she stopped breathing. "Please want me." Immediately disgusted with the needy note in her voice she drew her hand away from him, but he tightened his hold, his lips at her neck.
"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispered.
He cupped her small breasts in his hand, first one, then the other, his thumb lightly tracing over the sensitive tip. Her head rolled across his chest, the wall of heat at her back both driving and comforting at the same time. His other hand slid around her hip and under her until she was completely encircled by him. With lips at her throat, she was distracted enough to let go for a moment.
He was warm and hard all at the same time, his easy touch lulled her into noticing just how easily her body reacted to his touch. In the dark, she didn't worry about her scars, or her too thin body. In the dark, he couldn't see her flaws. When the tips of his fingers breached the waistband of her sleep pants, she stiffened.
It was bad enough that the first orgasm with Jon had been of the seam riding variety, but it had probably just been a fluke. Fresh out of sleep, she'd been able to let go. Determined to enjoy his touch, even if she didn't get to find that ellusive orgasm, she knew the closeness would be enough.
He slowly followed the elastic, drifting across her belly until she relaxed. His lips at her ear, the heat of his breath on her neck, all of it swallowed her in a cocoon that didn't have anything to do with Lucas or bodyguards. It was simply Jon and her. She turned her face until his lips found hers. Soft and far too good at their job, Jon kissed her with a single minded goal. She welcomed it, let it take over and drown her in his soft heat. The slide of his tongue was as easy as water lapping against her beach outside--Constant and pulling at the same time.
She was so focused on his mouth that when his fingers roamed lower she opened for him. The sleep pants left more than enough room for him to touch anything he wanted. Her breath hitched as she broke the kiss. The sharp pleasure was so unexpected that she stiffened.
His other hand pushed at her shirt until the cool air outside their cocoon kissed her nipples. The endless soft touches at her neck, her breasts and between her legs left her breathless and unbalanced. Panic swirled in her brain. Too much, too soon.
She was insane to have started this. He didn't deserve to have her psychosis thrust upon him. Why would he want her damaged self in his bed, in his arms, and wound around him? Her breathing hitched and she whimpered as his fingers found their way into her panties.
The excitement that had tripped through her only moments ago evaporated into shame. When he found her dry as dust, his fingers stilled. She tensed even further. Couldn't he see she was useless in this arena? All she wanted was to be normal. All she wanted was to have someone touch her like this and not be a freak.
Instead of pulling away, he drew soft circles along her belly with his thumb but never moved from the apex of her thighs. He was waiting for her to respond to him.
"You're beautiful, Cam. I wish you could see how brave and amazing you are. You've dealt with so much in such a short time."
She shook her head. She was far from brave, and anything but amazing.
He nuzzled her neck, his lips soft and his cheek rough with beard. Sensory memory pulled at her. The first time she'd met Jon he'd been scruffy and dangerous looking. Everything but his eyes had put her on alert. His eyes--always the eyes--were so kind. Even when he was angry and they were snapping like blue flame, it was his eyes that pulled at her.
She softened under him as he sipped from her neck and his fingers lightly traced her belly.
"I love you. I know you wish I didn't. Hell, sometimes I wish I didn't." His voice was barely a rumble in her ear. "And I'm not saying I love you to get inside you. I just need you to know it, and I want you to accept it as the gift it is. I don't expect anything in return."
The first tear slipped down her cheek.
She couldn't remember the last time someone had told her that with such certainty and lack of manipulation. Maybe her mother? And another tear slipped free. It had been such a long time without any comfort, or any contact, but all this selfless giving squeezed at her heart.
She covered his hand with hers and dipped back inside her panties. His fingers were larger than hers, more blunt tipped and lightly calloused where the guitar strings wore at the tip. He pulled her tighter into him and she could feel the silky glide of her body's response.
She didn't know if it was the love he offered or the patience, or maybe it was both. All she knew is she needed this closeness, this moment in the dark to reach for him and all that he offered. With each stroke, she opened for him just a little more until their tangled fingers curled into the softness that hadn't been touched in so very long.
He tried to turn her onto her back, but she pressed her back against his front. She couldn't be pinned down, and she didn't want to ride above him. All she wanted was this coil of warmth.
He tugged at her shirt and she gladly lifted it over her head. The brush of his chest hair along her shoulders and spine added one more layer to the shroud of darkness and the magnetic combination of hard muscle and smooth skin. One hand cupped her breast, his mouth at her ear and then her neck and all the while there was a slow undulation of their hips as they moved in tandem. She could feel her own wetness, the way she swelled around his fingers and her own.
The onslaught of pleasure staggered her, tightening her up as the loss of control left her gasping and off center. "Jon?"
"I'm right here," he said with a much darker voice than she'd ever remembered hearing.
She pulled at the pants that was their final barrier. She wanted all of him. Not just this slick, yet light pressure of fingers in the dark. She wanted more, wanted to feel full of him. She wanted to take all that he offered. He tightened his arm around her thigh and hip, and they both groaned as their fingers slid free from her greedy body.
Again, he tried to turn her, but she simply reached behind her and guided him closer. He was hot and hard in her hand, smooth even there with a light mapping of veins along the underside of his shaft. She stroked a few times and he tried to pull back. "You're killing me," he grunted even as he pushed himself harder into her hands. "Tighter," he said into the dark.
She grasped him tighter and invited him closer. "Please," she said into the dark. If it was to herself to enjoy him, or just for him to push inside she had no idea. He gently lifted her thigh over his and opened her, their fingers locked over her readied folds. Each inch he slid inside of her brushed along her fingers. She tried to relax, to let him inside her. Stretched for the first time in so long her body and her mind wouldn't cooperate.
She clamped down on him and he hissed. "I don't want to hurt you." His fingers flexed under hers, widened until they laced together.
She eased and sighed as instinct took over. She tipped back until he was fully seated inside her. His nose nuzzled her ear and his lips feasted on her neck as he slowly slid out and back in. The soft purr of his pleasure spurred on her own. She could feel him inside her, around her, threading through her fingers, and all of it felt so good and so alien at the same time. Light touches at her breast mingled with the steady thrust of his cock until she couldn't discern one touch from another.
Part of her wanted to be under him, to feel all of him along her skin and to cup him between her thighs, but this freedom was drugging. She pressed back for more, wiggling against the rising pressure in the deep darkness. And there, when she thought he couldn't give her anymore, he increased his tempo and released their joined hands, the lightly roughened tips of his fingers cupped where they were joined and she cried out.
Pleasure flowed from everywhere. He rode her release, his fingers gripping her hips as the tempo increased. He turned her hips just enough until she was arched back and took more of him. The slap of skin in the night and the cool cotton hitting her overheated flesh and everything inside her pulsed hard and opened like an abyss.
She couldn't stop the sob as her body purged every emotion she'd ever had in one climax. He held onto her, turning her into him and instantly she missed the fullness. Their legs tangled and sweat slick skin cooled. He kicked at their half undressed legs until it was her smooth knees bumping along his hair roughened thigh. There wasn't an inch on him that wasn't muscled and fit and she envied all that strength. She sniffed into his sweat slick neck and couldn't stop the shudders.
The tips of his fingers dug into her lower spine and smoothed their way up until she could control her body's overwhelmingly stupid response. She gripped his shoulder as she forced herself to relax. Toes, calves, thighs, belly, shoulders, she pressed her cheek into his chest and pictured herself going liquid.
"I need that trick."
She found a laugh that she didn't know could have existed inside of her. "When I was first here and alone, I had to find ways to relax at night or go insane."
He rubbed his chin over her hair and tightened his hold. "I shouldn't have let things go so far."
She rolled from cheek to chin on his chest and looked toward his voice in the dark. Of course it was a mistake. She tried to detangle herself and he tightened his grip.
"I wanted it to go that far. For two long years, I wondered how it would feel to be in your arms for real."
"But..."
"But I wanted you--it's as simple and complicated as that. It was selfish of me."
She relaxed again and rested her cheek against his chest. "No one's ever made me feel like that," she said quietly. The dark giving her more courage than sense. "I didn't think it was possible to feel like that in a man's arms. And never in yours."
His mouth found hers in the dark and the kiss was comfort and passion, patience and need.
Before morning came, she would taste him again. And she couldn't hate herself.