Page 9 of One Night Redemption

When I get to the living room, Cam has set out our dinner on the coffee table and grabbed a beer for himself and a wine for me. I know the minute I sip that wine, it’s my usual. I’ve never told him what my favorite drink is. But he pays attention to the details. He’s always been that way. It’s probably why he’s such a good cop. And so ridiculously skilled in bed. Everything I like, everything I want—he seems to know even before I do. And suddenly, dinner is the very last thing on my mind.

“You know … I’m not that hungry,” I tell him as I untuck the shirt at the back and let it fall down to my hips. Then I push the borrowed sweatpants down until I can step out of them. “Well, not for dinner anyway.”

Within seconds, we’re on the couch. He moved so fast I’m not even sure how it happened. He’s sitting and I’m straddling his thighs, facing him with us eye to eye. I can feel the length of him pressing against me and all I can think about is how it felt before. I’ve missed this.

Reaching between us, I free the button on his jeans and then slide the zipper down. I watched him put them on, so I know there’s nothing underneath. And then I’m touching that hard flesh, my fingers not quite meeting around the thickness of his shaft.

“Fucking hell, Cass,” he hisses out, his head falling back as a deep breath shudders through him.

I raise myself up on my knees, just a little. Just enough that when I sink back down, I'm taking every hard inch of him inside me. He’s not even touched me since that super hot scene in the shower, but I’m still wet. Because all I have to do is think about him and I’m like a cat in heat. It used to be embarrassing as hell … until I figured out that he feels the same about me. Whatever else happens between us, however this all shakes out, this part of it—we’ve got that.

His hands fall to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. It’ll leave a mark. And that t makes it even hotter. He’s not content to just let me ride him. Instead, he’s thrusting upward every time I sink down. It feels so good, all I can do is close my eyes and savor every second of it.

I’m so close, hovering on the edge. Then he dips his head, teasing the tips of my breasts with his tongue. But it’s the scrape of his teeth, a sting that falls somewhere between pleasure and pain, that’s what pushes me over. I don’t scream. I don’t make a sound. I can’t. It literally takes my breath away. It’s not just an orgasm. It’s not just scratching an itch. It’s a goddamn religious experience. And he’s right there with me, his body shaking with the force of it.

Neither of us says anything. Even in the aftermath, when he’s shifted us around until we’re laying on the couch, snuggled together under a soft throw, we’re still silent. His fingertips are tracing delicate circles on my skin, every touch keeping that connection between us, that feeling that all this is way more than just amazing sex. It’s something else. Something that scares me, but is still too precious to let go of. Words would break the spell of whatever this perfect thing is. I’m not ready to risk that and I don’t think he is either.

Chapter

Eight

Cam

"You can stay here if you want. Be here when I get home?" I suggest as I'm getting ready to go help serve a warrant. I can't tell her where I'm going, or that her suspicions about Brandon are correct. I have to hope that she'll forgive me once she finds out, because she will. Bellehaven is small enough to know what everyone is doing, all the time. After we hit this house, word will be around before we get back to the jail.

Troy is coming to pick me up and we'll meet the rest of the team out on Hollow Holler Road.

"I really should go home, Cam. I've been here for two days. I have to work tomorrow." She stretches against my pillow as her eyes rake my body.

"I know, I'm just saying, you're okay to stay here if that's what you want to do. Go grab some clothes and whatever you need to get ready for work." I swallow hard, about to say something I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to admit to anyone, much less her. "I like you being here. I like sleeping with you tucked in next to me. If you really want to go home, then do, but if you're scared because whatever this is between us feels big; stay with me."

"Who are you and what have you done with Cam?" She pulls the blanket up over her mouth, almost to her eyes.

I recognize the self-preservation tactic. "I told you I wanted a second chance, fuckin' begged for it if we want to be realistic. I'm not going to do anything to screw it up if I can help it. I messed around, wasn't honest, and played with both our feelings. When I told you that I know what I lost? I wasn't playing. I'll still mess up, because that's me. I'm not a perfect man, and I will never act like I am. What I definitely am, is ready to give whatever it is that's growing between us a shot."

Her eyes are soft, filled with a small amount of water in them. "I am too," she agrees quietly.

Glancing at the clock that sits on my bedside table, I don't have much time. I grab the long-sleeve shirt I'm going to wear under my vest and shrug it over my head, before lifting it up and making sure my belt is holding my jeans up. Typically, we'll go in dressed in uniform, but the house we're hitting today means we need to dress inconspicuously except for the protection and badges we're going to be wearing. Once the belt and shirt feel good, I reach over and pick up the vest, placing it over my shoulders.

She flinches when I velcro the edges together.

"What?" I question, rolling my lips together. "Talk to me, Cass."

"When I watch you doing this, I'm reminded of how dangerous your job is. It's not something I like to be reminded of, is all."

"Yeah, but let's not pretend your job isn't dangerous too, sweetheart. Hospital violence is on the rise, and it's scary to me, knowing that you're there. That you're alone with these people, and they could do whatever they want with you. I think about this shit, although I try not to." I admit, shaking my head at the way that sounds. Like she can't take care of herself.

"I can defend myself, Cam." She refutes, just like I knew she would.

"I know, trust me, I know you can, but that doesn't stop me from worrying. It doesn't stop me from going to the hospital for no reason at all to see what and how you're doing. I make up some stupid excuse, and somehow everyone believes it, but I'm there to check on you. Not up on you, but to check on you. I have this need to know you're okay." I hook my fingers in the straps of the bulletproof vest to keep from reaching out and grabbing onto her.

She sucks her lip in between her teeth, before sitting up, and letting the blanket fall. On her knees, she walks over toward me. A smile spreading across my face, I take a few steps closer so she can put her arms around my neck. "You're a really sweet guy, Cam. You don't want people to know it, but you're an amazing man. You might've made some mistakes, but you're redeeming yourself pretty well."

I snake my arm around her waist, holding her close. "Thank you." I lean in, kissing her softly, digging my fingers in her hair.

When we pull back, she has a smile across her lips. "So, if I wanted to go get my stuff and come back here for a nice, quiet night. I do mean a nice, quiet night." She raises an eyebrow in a threat. "I can't have sex with you again tonight, Cam. I'm sore, my legs are killing me, and I'm exhausted." She laughs. "Like if I could get one of the EMS guys to come out here and give me a banana bag ..."

I laugh loudly, throwing my head back. She mentions the bag that all of us try to get once we've been out drinking hardcore the night before. "I've gotten you to the point where you need vitamins, hydration, and minerals?" I burrow into her neck, dropping my lips to her skin.

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