Trust in Me

  I couldn’t believe that I was actually in Texas.

  My gaze drifted from the marble fountain to the monstrous-sized house. Avery hadn’t been joking when she said her parents were rich. They were like the 1 percent. Hell, maybe even the half of a percent.

  Leaning back in the driver’s seat, I blew out a long breath. “Fuck.”

  Shortcake was inside that place, with a mom that made Anthony Bates mommy look stable and loving. And I was out here, waiting in the car, half tempted to dive into the fountain.

  She’d been in there for at least ten minutes and she hadn’t wanted me to go inside with her. Probably because she knew I’d lose my shit with a quickness. When she had opened up to me that day, she really hadn’t gone into a lot about her parents with the exception of how they had responded to what had happened to her, but over the last couple of weeks she’d told me about them.

  And what I did know, I didn’t like.

  At the fifteen-minute mark, I couldn’t sit any longer. I climbed out of the car and stepped into the sweltering heat. Sliding my cap around, I pulled the brim down to shield the sun.

  I walked around the rented sedan, eyeing the entrance to the house. The marble columns were a nice touch. As I turned, gazing out over the manicured landscape that went as far as I could see, there wasn’t a single person moving about.

  The place was empty, and in spite of the body-breaking temps, it was cold. I couldn’t picture Shortcake growing up in this kind of atmosphere or figure out how she’d come out as warm and loving as she was.

  My shirt was already beginning to stick to my shoulders as I returned to the fountain. Closing my eyes, I willed my legs not to turn around and bust up into that house. I knew Shortcake needed to do this on her own, but I hated that she was facing them without me by her side.

  I stuck out my hand, letting the warm water trickle across my open palm. What would her parents think if I took a dip? I was half tempted. I was also five seconds away from barging into the house when I heard a door shut behind me. Turning, I saw Avery heading down the wide stone stairs.

  She was smiling broadly.

  I hadn’t been expecting that.

  Tension seeped out of my shoulders as I jogged around the car, catching her in the middle of the circular driveway. “How’d it go?”

  “Ah . . .” She rose onto the tips of her sandaled feet, slanted her head and kissed me. “It went as expected.”

  I held on to her hips, my fingers tightening as a surge of lust and love and a thousand other complicated emotions roared through me. “Want to tell me about it?”

  “Over dinner?” She started to move away, but I captured her hand, holding her in place. “I’m going to take you to Chuy’s—”

  “Avery?”

  Steel poured down my spine at the sound of her name and I tightened my hold on her hand. She turned as my gaze narrowed on the tall man walking down the front stairs.

  This was her father.

  I knew it immediately.

  His dark brown hair was gray at the temples and he didn’t look a day over fifty. He was dressed as if he were heading out to the golf club, pants pressed and polo shirt tucked in.

  “If he says something ignorant, I cannot promise I will not lay him out right here, right now,” I warned her.

  She squeezed my hand. “Hopefully that won’t become an issue.”

  “Just saying.”

  Her father stopped in front of us, his eyes—identical to Shortcake’s—looked from his daughter to where our hands were joined together. I dared him to say one thing.

  “This is Cameron Hamilton,” she said, clearing her throat. “Cam, this is my father.”

  Since it would be rude to give him the middle finger or punch him in the face, I extended my free hand. “Hi.”

  He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “What’s up, Dad?” she asked when I didn’t return the polite greeting.

  Mr. Morgansten dragged his eyes from me, and his gaze landed on his daughter for maybe a fraction of a second before flicking away. I could see the age on him now, settling in the creases around his eyes and mouth.

  His chest rose with a deep breath and then said, “You know what I’ve missed most of all? I miss watching you dance.”

  Shortcake was handling everything better than I thought she would, which meant I hadn’t given her enough credit. The girl was stronger than any of us realized.

  Over dinner she told me how everything had gone down, and I was angry and disappointed for her when it came to how she was received by her so-called mother, but Avery had done what she had come here to do.

  And it seemed her father expressed at least some amount of remorse or distress. The dancing comment . . . I got what it meant. There were so many things that Avery lost out on, and due to their own ignorance, so had her parents.

  She still wanted to see Molly tomorrow, and no matter what I tried over dinner to change her mind, she was determined and I was going to support her the best I could. But to be honest, I wanted nothing more than to get her back home and away from all of this.

  When we returned to the hotel room that evening, Shortcake immediately disappeared into the bathroom to take a quick shower. I watched her retreating form with an arched brow. She had been acting weird since the end of the dinner, in a hurry to get back here. I had no idea what she was up to, but I forced myself to lie down instead of joining her in the shower, which was something I wanted to do really, really badly.

  I discovered the remote control and was still trying to figure out what channel was what when steam rolled out from the opened bathroom door about twenty minutes later. I looked up and the air halted in my lungs.

  She stood in the doorway, her hair a dark red, clinging to her shoulders. She wore only a white towel.

  Holy shit.

  I sat up, speechless as my gaze swept over her, starting at the tips of her painted toes and ending at her flushed cheeks. My skin tightened as she walked to where I sat, her fingers curling around the knotted towel between her breasts.

  I closed my eyes. “Avery.”

  She placed a hand on my shoulder and climbed up, like she had done the evening on the couch, straddling me. “Cam?”

  A small grin split my lips; it was all I could manage as I clutched her hips.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing.” She paused. “Everything.”

  My gaze dipped to the knot. “Those are two opposite things.”

  “I know.” She pressed down on my erection, sending a bolt of red-hot pleasure through me. “Kiss me?”

  She didn’t give me a chance to respond, which was fine by me. Her lips brushed over mine, a sweet sweeping of her lips. My hold on her hips tightened when she parted my lips with her tongue. The kiss went on until I was aching for her.

  Hell, I was always aching for her.

  “Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Who in the hell was I to deny her? I ran my hands under the hem of the towel, gliding them over her thighs, coming close to the center of her heat.

  “Now,” she demanded.

  I laughed at her bold demand, but I wouldn’t be rushed. I brushed the back of my hand over her dampness, smiling when she moaned. “What do you want?”

  She made a sound of frustration. “I want you to touch me.”

  Bringing my fingers close to where she wanted me, I retreated quickly. “I am touching you, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Please.” She pressed her forehead to mine. “Please touch me, Cam.”

  I leaned back, brushing our lips together. “Well, when you say it like that, I think I get what you mean.”

  “Finally,” she groaned.

  I laughed again and then nipped
at her chin. Her body jerked when I cupped her between the thighs. “Like this?”

  “Yes.”

  As I kissed the center of her throat, I slipped a finger into her wetness. “And this?” My voice was gruff, heavy.

  Her back arched. “Uh-huh.”

  Wrapping an arm around her so she didn’t tumble backward, I pressed down on her clit. Her body tensed in the most amazing way. “What about this?”

  Her hips tipped forward. “Oh, yeah. Definitely that.”

  “Definitely that?” I pumped my finger in and out of her slowly.

  Avery moaned, and I could listen to a chorus of them all day, but then she reached between us and unraveled the knot. The towel slipped away from her, fluttering to the floor.

  My hand stilled.

  My heart jumped.

  My cock hardened and throbbed.

  Rosy breasts thrust up, cheeks flushed, and legs spread wide over mine. . . . Dammit, she was . . . she was stunning.

  I ran my other hand over her breast, fixated when the tip puckered. “Fuck, Avery . . .”

  She placed her hand over mine. “Don’t stop.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Not what I meant.” Reaching with her other hand, she found the zipper on my jeans. “I want you, Cam.”

  “You have me.” I moved to her other breast. “You so fucking have me.”

  Avery smiled as she wrapped her hand around my wrist, pulling my hand away from her heat. “I really want you.” She unzipped my pants, her fingers brushing me, and I shuddered. “Don’t you want me?”

  “More than you know.” I groaned as she palmed me. “Avery . . .”

  Her hand disappeared, and I didn’t know if I should be grateful or if I should start cussing. But then she tugged my shirt up, over my head. “I want this, Cam.”

  When her words sunk in through the red haze fogging my thoughts, I inhaled deeply. “Are you sure, Avery? Because if you’re not, we don’t have—”

  She kissed me, sliding her hands down my chest. “I’m sure.”

  I froze, hands on her hips, and then rolled her onto her back. Over her, I caught her lips, kissing her with everything that I had in me. Maybe another guy would’ve asked her again or done something else, but those two words. I’m sure. They broke the tiny hold I had on my self-control.

  Breaking the kiss, I stood and all but ripped off my jeans. When her gaze dropped and eyes widened, I couldn’t help but smile.

  Avery looked almost untouchable as she lay there, staring up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. “I could stare at you for a lifetime. It would never grow old.”

  “Even when I’m old?”

  “Even then.”

  Unable to wait any longer, I came to her. I wanted this moment to be perfect for her. I wanted everything to be beautiful and I wanted her to feel how much I loved her.

  So I started at those tiny toes, working my way up her legs and over her soft stomach with kisses. I took my time, sucking and nipping until the peaks of her breasts were tight and she was panting. Every part of me felt hard, heavy, and swollen, but I wanted her ready, even if raw, intense desire rode me to drive deep inside of her.

  Her body arched against mine as I reached her lips once more. Shifting my weight to one arm, I matched the thrusts of my tongue with my finger and then two, stretching her slowly.

  She clutched my arms, my sides as she moved restlessly and when I put my mouth to her down there, she came apart in a way that almost undid me right then.

  I was shaking like a weed in the middle of a storm as I rose, positioning myself between her thighs. Wrapping my hand around myself, I lined up our bodies. The first contact with her wetness sent shards of pleasure through me.

  There was a point when you couldn’t stop and I was at that part, my body trembling with need, but I waited for her. I gave her time.

  “I love you,” I told her, resting my hand to her cheek. “I love you so very much.”

  Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, urging me forward. “I love you.”

  Dropping my hand to her hip, I deepened the kiss as I rolled my hips into hers. She stiffened under me, and her soft gasp of surprise went straight to my soul.

  I stilled. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  I didn’t want to hurt her and I knew that had to hurt. I remained still, deep inside her. My heart hammered out of control as I kissed the corner of her lip and then the other. Her mouth opened, and I slipped inside, slowly tasting her, giving her body time to adjust.

  I groaned as she tilted her hips tentatively, creating startling friction between us. “Av . . .”

  She did it again, and I rocked back. A cry of pleasure ripped from her as she gripped me in her tightness, wrapping her legs around my waist. Between that and the way she moved her hips, I lost myself in her in the most glorious way possible.

  God . . . nothing felt like her and nothing compared to the feeling of her, of how she invaded every cell of my being. There was no me. There was no her. As we moved together, our mouths clinging to one another, our hands exploring and our hips sealing together, there was only us.

  Avery broke under me, throwing her head out and crying my name when I slid a hand between us, touching her as I ground against her. Feeling the tight spasms, the way she held on to me was too much.

  “Avery,” I grunted, burying my head in her shoulder as my release blew through me, shocking in its intensity.

  The release felt like it kept coming in tight waves. I rested above her, my body jerking every couple of moments. Forever went by before I trusted myself to move. A deep sound came from my chest as I eased out of her.

  I kissed her and fuck if I didn’t feel a burning sensation in the back of my throat. I shook my head, dumbfounded by the force of what I felt. “That was . . . there are no words. You okay?”

  She placed her hands on my cheeks and they trembled slightly. In her steady gaze, I saw the mirror of what I was feeling. “Perfect. You were perfect.”

  The truth was, if I was perfect, it was only because of her. It would only ever be because of her.

  Twenty-Nine

  That’s where I need to be.

  Those were Avery’s words as she’d spoken to the other girl. Molly. I had struggled not be angry when I’d seen the red mark on her cheek. The only thing that helped was hearing those words.

  Shortcake finally got it.

  The healing she needed did rest in the truth, in speaking out to her parents and to talking to Molly, but she had begun to heal all the way back in February, then again in April. Going to Texas was something she felt she needed to do and she had done it.

  So I brought her home and here we were, back in the somewhat cooler state of West Virginia, the night before Avery would start her summer classes and I’d start working with the kids during camp.

  Shortcake sat on the kitchen floor across from me, bare legs tucked under her. She wore one of my shirts and that was all. I had a hard time thinking about anything other than that.

  Between us, Michelangelo and Raphael were currently head-bobbing each other.

  “It’s like a tortoise version of smack talk,” she said, brows pinched. “I’m not sure they like each other.”

  I grinned as I leaned back against the fridge, running my hand over the bare skin of my abs. “They still need some time. And Mikey-Mike is territorial.”

  “Oh, blame it on my tortoise.” She rolled her eyes. “Yours started the head-bobbing crap first.”

  The timer dinged, and I climbed to my feet, heading over to the stove. “He was just showing yours who’s boss.”

  “Michelangelo is boss.” Shortcake picked up her little guy, setting him back several feet.

  Eyeing the chocolate cookies and finding them done, I quickly washed my hands, the
n retrieved an oven mitt I was sure Shortcake had never used. The tag was still on it. Grinning, I tore it off and then removed the tray from the oven. The cookies were super-sized, golden and oh-so gooey-looking.

  “Are they ready?” She looked up, eyes gleaming.

  “You’ll burn your tongue.” I tossed the mitt aside. “Again.”

  She grinned. “But it is so worth it.”

  “Uh-huh.” I sauntered up to her, enjoying the way her cheeks still flushed when her eyes dipped below my navel. Swooping down, I kissed her upturned lips. “Give them—”

  My cell went off from the living room. “Be right back.”

  She nodded as I carefully avoided stepping on a poor tortoise and traumatizing myself and Shortcake. I swiped my cell off the coffee table. A sigh of relief exited me as I saw that it was from my sister.

  Out of surgery. Doing ok. Will call u later.

  Closing my eyes, I said a little prayer. It hadn’t been a major surgery, but it was still a surgery and fucked-up things happened in hospitals. She was home. That was good, but . . .

  “Was that Teresa?”

  Putting my phone down, I turned. Avery stood in the door, holding two squirming tortoises. Combining that with the shirt that read I WANNA BE YOUR MANWICH, it was a pretty adorable sight.

  “Yes.”

  She walked the two tortoises over to their habitat and gently placed them inside. While she closed the lid, the two green guys immediately eyed each other from their respective corners. “Is she okay? How did the surgery go?”

  “She says she’s fine. It was just a text.” I paused. “She said she’d call me later.”

  Facing me, her brows were pinched in worry. If anyone knew what Teresa was facing right now, it would be Shortcake, with all her years of dancing. “She didn’t say anything about dancing?”

  I shook my head as I pressed my lips together. Teresa had torn her ACL a week ago during a recital. For athletes and dancers, it could be an injury fatal to their careers. All my sister had ever wanted to do was become a professional dancer. Only time would tell if that would be possible at all.

  But from what Mom had said, it wasn’t looking good.