Down London Road (On Dublin Street 2)

I pulled my hand back. ‘What was that?’

His eyes roamed my face, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘I said I’m sorry.’

‘Good.’

Dipping his head, his eyes serious, Cam spoke, his lips grazing mine. ‘You ever try to keep this mouth from me again and I’ll find very creative forms of use for it as punishment.’

I shivered. This side of him in bed was a real turn-on. ‘It’s my mouth. It’s up to me who gets near it.’

‘True,’ he acquiesced, his hand trailing down my hip to wind up between my legs. I jolted involuntarily at the press of his thumb on my clit. ‘But last night you agreed that we were together, and being together means that mouth belongs to me. I don’t like people hiding my things.’ He ended that pronouncement with a roguish grin. His thumb circled my clit and I gasped, clutching his wrist, urging him on.

I wanted to call him on his crap, but I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. My body had already been treated to a tremendous orgasm and was now positioned on the precipice of another.

I came quickly, I came hard, and I came with a cry that Cam quieted against his mouth. His kiss was wet and dirty, and its purpose was to swallow my climax and stamp me with his ownership.

The bastard was lucky I was feeling equally possessive.

Gripping his head tight, I kissed him back just as voraciously and when he moved to catch his breath, I nipped his lip. Hard.

He hissed, his eyes widening, his tongue flicking out to lick the hurt.

‘If mine is yours, yours is mine.’

He liked that. I could tell by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Deal.’

I liked that too. I liked that I felt comfortable enough to be myself with him. My thumb caught the nip in an affectionate gesture of halfhearted apology. ‘I need to go.’ I moved to roll away from him, only to be drawn to a halt by his arm across my waist.

‘Stay. Just for a little while.’

Worry immediately caused my whole body to tense, obliterating all my happy thoughts about us as a couple. This felt an awful lot like déjà vu – me hurrying home to Cole, leaving an annoyed man lying in bed. Before, it had mattered on some level that I not upset my relationship. With Cam it mattered on every level. My brows drew together in confusion and anxiety. I’d assumed things would be different with Cam. That he understood. Only seconds ago I was ‘Miss Comfortable’ and now I was back to being who I was suddenly very sick and tired of being.

‘What?’ He tugged on my waist, trying to urge me closer. ‘What’s causing this?’ His fingers traced my frown lines.

‘Nothing.’

‘It’s not nothing.’ With an effort, he forced me to turn completely back to him. ‘Your muscles are locked up tight. Why?’

On the one hand, I wanted us to be okay. To be open. To be real. On the other hand, I didn’t want him to think I was questioning him so soon into this. I didn’t want to leave his bed pissed off at him and vice versa.

I chewed my lip, taking far too long to think it over.

‘Jesus, Johanna.’ He pulled back before I had a chance to say anything, his eyebrows dipped in anger. ‘I’m not bloody them.’ He threw the sheets off of us as he moved to leave the bed.

Dammit! ‘I’m just worried,’ I huffed, feeling my cheeks heat at the coming confession.

Cam grew still, twisting his head to look at me over his shoulder. ‘Go on.’

I made a face at his bossiness and sat up, drawing my knees to my chest in a subconscious need to protect myself. ‘I’m worried you’ll get bored with the fact that I can’t … accommodate you. Because I have Cole and’ – I braced myself, wondering how he’d react to my next piece of brutal honesty – ‘he’ll always come first.’

In seconds I was flat on my back, Cam looking down at me, his eyes soft again, and better yet, they were filled with understanding. ‘You never have to worry about that. I get it. I understand. Cole comes first. Of course he does. He’s a bloody kid who needs you. I’m not going to get bored or pissed off. And frankly if I do, you should dump my ass.’

Something shifted in my chest, something huge and overwhelming and scary. That something was my feelings for Cam. They were settled inside me now, held in place by an immovable anchor. ‘Are you for real?’ I asked, giving him a weak smile, trying to cover how emotional I felt.

Cam smiled back at me as he placed a soft kiss on my mouth. ‘Completely real, baby. But if you need proof …’ He pressed his knee between my legs, nudging them open, the wicked look in his eyes telling me I wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

After everything Cole and I had been through, it was almost difficult allowing myself to feel this happy. I was high on Cameron MacCabe, and although most of me loved it, this small part of me, the small part that couldn’t let go of the past, was terrified by it. Fortunately for us both, I’d watched Joss almost destroy her relationship with Braden over that exact thing, and I had no wish to follow in her footsteps. It was only two days in, and I was guessing it would take a small miracle to make me walk away from Tattoo Guy.

What it would take for him to walk away was a different story, but I was determined to try to kill that kind of negative thinking before it spoiled everything for me. I was also resolved not to rock the boat, so when Malcolm texted me on Monday morning while I was at work, I didn’t tell Cam.

So of course I also didn’t tell him that I texted Malcolm back.

Malcolm had proved himself to be a good guy. A gentleman. A friend. It didn’t matter if he’d found solace in the arms of Becca. All that mattered was that he’d been kind to me when we were together. I wasn’t sure I was ready to lose that, so when he asked if I was okay, I told him I was. I apologized again, and I asked him how he was.