“Just as your mother should have been yours. But that’s not always how it works.”
He grabbed Aspen’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You would never do what Lucia did. Never.”
“And you would never do what Esme did, but you still doubt your ability to be a good parent.”
“I would be a bad parent, baby. I wouldn’t know how to meet a kid’s needs. Wouldn’t know how to set boundaries, make them learn empathy, ensure they felt loved. I don’t even know if I could love them. So then I’d have to fake it. What kid would deserve that?”
She frowned. “You’d love them. I know you would.”
“Gorgeous, the only person I’ve ever cared about is you.”
“Only because you choose to shut others out. You wouldn’t choose to shut out your own child.” She threaded her fingers through his. “You wouldn’t, Camden.”
He drank the last of his wine. “It would be better not to take that risk.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Stop it.”
“What?”
“You think I don’t know why you really shy away from the thought of having kids?”
No, he didn’t think she was unaware of it. Aspen knew him better than he knew himself in many ways.
“You need to get that crap out of your head,” she told him. “The assholes from your old pride put it there. And it’s pure bullshit.”
“My mother was fucked up. Her brother is fucked up. And if the rumors are to be believed, there was always a bit of fucked-up-ness in my maternal family.”
“You’re not crazy, Camden. Be fucking fair, it would be a damn miracle if you came out of your childhood perfectly normal. There is no madness in you, and you therefore cannot pass on any madness through your genes. No, it’s not up for discussion. There’s no question in my mind that I am 100% correct on this. So … so there.”
Camden nipped her palm. “Ever my staunch defender.” He took a cupcake from the box and held it up to her mouth. “Eat this.”
“You trying to shut me up?”
“It seems the easiest way to do it.”
Affronted, she parted her lips to call him an asshole. And he shoved the cake inside her mouth. She chewed hard, shooting daggers at him.
Stifling a smile, he curled an arm around her waist and hauled her close, bringing her to kneel between his thighs. “If we weren’t out in public, it would have been my dick that got shoved in your mouth.”
She sniffed, haughty, and used her finger to wipe at the frosting on her lips. “I can guarantee that your cock would not have gotten a welcoming reception. Teeth might have been used.”
“I doubt it.” He slid his hand down her back to palm her ass. “You like it when I shove my cock in your mouth like I own it.”
“I tolerate it.”
He felt his brows shoot up. “Tolerate it?”
She shrugged, jutting out her chin.
“So all the moaning and humming—”
“Is purely for show.”
Putting his face closer to hers, he whispered, “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t need you to.”
He bit her lip. “You like everything we do in bed. Even when I push your limits. Even when it hurts.”
She tilted her head. “Do you like a little pain?”
“Beyond biting and scratching, no. I just like doling it out.”
“So there’s no way I’ll coax you into bending over the bed and letting me spank you?”
“No, baby. No, there’s really no way that’ll happen.”
“It’d be hot.”
“It’d be you having a laugh at my expense.”
She chuckled. “Yup. Totally.”
He squeezed her ass. “Leave the spanking to me. You just keep on taking what I give you.”
“I plan to, since I seem to highly benefit from it.”
“Hmm, see, my baby’s a good girl.” Camden took her mouth, sinking into the kiss, into her. He savored her, her taste, her moans, the scent of her need. His cock thickened until it ached, and he couldn’t help pulling her closer, forcing her to grind against him.
She tore her mouth free. “Not up here.”
“Definitely not up here. I don’t want anyone else seeing or hearing you come.” There were too many enforcers on patrol.
“Then let’s go back inside. You’ve made me all horny and, well, I’m a growing girl, you can’t neglect me.”
“Finish that last cupcake and we’ll go.”
“Dude, you don’t need to tell me twice.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Camden’s eyes snapped open. His heart pounding, he took a sharp breath. Echoes of his nightmare rattled around his brain—all snapshots from his childhood. Shoving them into their mental drawer was hard when he could swear the cloying, coppery smell of his father’s blood was right then clogging his nostrils. His mother’s cruel laugh seemed to ricochet off the walls of his mind. Like her voice, it had always been edged with something … wrong.
Camden pressed his hands to the sides of his head. He hurt. His brain hurt. His heart hurt. And his tiger … Jesus, his tiger was about to lose his mind.