Scratch the Surface

“Hey,” I said, finding my voice, staring up into his eyes. I’d somehow forgotten they were such a deep, dark, inky blue. The gold lashes, the smile on his full, lush lips, the way he squeezed my hand, him being there, all of it was making my head fuzzy. “You came.”

“I said I would,” he replied smoothly, “and I have my laptop, so we can sit here together and figure out how to get you moved to Sacramento by next week.”

It took me a moment to reply, overwhelmed by him being a man of his word. Even more so, being a man I barely knew, who had, nonetheless, showed up for me. It was a lot to absorb, but my brain was fully occupied with the gorgeous man in front of me. It turned out I was as much of a sucker for a hot man in nice clothes as the next guy. “This is what you look like when you’re not at work?”

He glanced down, as though taking inventory of his clothes, and then met my gaze. “This is casual. I’m wearing jeans.”

The matter-of-fact way he said it, completely missing that I was impressed, was utterly endearing. “Okay,” I replied, my smile as out of control as my beating heart. “You look really nice for a Saturday, Cameron.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, leaning in close, surveying my injuries. “You have blood in your eye.”

“It’s cool, right? I look like a vampire or a werewolf or something?”

“You look hurt,” he countered, lifting up.

I caught the back of his neck before he could move away and twisted my fingers into his hair, tugging him back down gently until his mouth was hovering over mine. “I’m not gonna break,” I promised. “So maybe you wanna kiss me hello?”

“Yes,” he whispered, “but I am going to be careful because I don’t want to hurt you––”

I brought his lips to mine and opened for him, hungry, ravenous for his taste, his touch. Losing my job set me adrift, and I needed him to anchor me to a new future.

My stomach clutched nervously when I realized he wasn’t kissing me back, but then his tongue pressed into mine, rubbing, tangling, and I had what I wanted––a kiss that warmed all the cold parts down deep inside. It was mauling and claiming, and it went on, him taking, me giving, and I felt the spark of arousal roll through me as I broke the kiss for air.

“Did I––I didn’t mean to––”

“I hope you did mean to,” I teased, licking my lips and lifting for him again, barely stifling the whine of raw, devouring need.

Smug male sound, almost a purr, as he took my mouth again, sucking on my tongue before deepening the kiss, his hands splayed on my pectorals, and then he turned his head, his lips gone, moving to my neck, mouth open on my skin as he wrapped me gently in his arms.

People I worked with hugged me on occasion, as did the kids I counseled, but I had no family, and the few good friends I had, like Zack, didn’t hug, except maybe on special occasions or at funerals.

But now, here was Cameron, hugging me like I was special, holding me like I might break, his breath on the side of my neck giving me goose bumps.

“If you get me used to you and then you go away,” I barely got out, hearing the hitch in my breathing, “that’d be bad for me.”

He nodded and pressed his lips to my skin.

“Don’t start if you’re not—if you can’t…” I stopped because I refused to let go of the sob that was right there, so close to the surface. Crying could never happen, no matter how hurt or vulnerable I was.

“I’m here,” he choked out, his own honeyed voice gruff with feeling. “And I will be for as long as you want me.”

I wrapped him in my arms then, returning the hug, holding on tight to my lifeline. When I shivered and rubbed my wet face on his shoulder, I heard his sigh of contentment.

Without question, I had it bad for this man who seemed to want not only to help me fix my life but maybe to be a part of it as well.

12

Cameron

I could easily fall madly in love with Jeremiah Wolfe. Like my family and my friend Mike, he didn’t doubt my motives or intentions; instead, he simply had faith in me and trusted that I had his best interests at heart. So when I told him I was hiring movers, rather than fight with me, he said it made sense. He didn’t have much in his furnished apartment, but he would have had trouble schlepping it himself. He was a bit banged up after all.

“I want to grab my clothes and your watch and my laptop tomorrow morning when I get out of here.”