All Over You (All Falls Down #3) (21 page)

"Your life wasn't good before?" I ask, letting his words and the seriousness behind them steady me.

"It was," he says, his gaze locked on my face. "But it's gotten a hell of a lot better since I met you."

"Oh." Tears sting at my eyes, threatening to fall at the tender look on his face, like he means every sweet word he just said to me. "My life is better with you in it too," I tell him. "Even with all of this going on, I don't regret meeting you, Cam. I never will."

He sits up, wrapping an arm around my waist, and then he kisses me. "You're mine, sweetheart," he says against my lips.

"It's been a long time since I belonged anywhere," I murmur.

"I bet that's not true. How long have you and Erin been friends?" he asks, tucking me back into the bed beside him. His hand drifts through my hair as he gently unsnarls tangles with his fingers.

I close my eyes and cuddle up against him, using his big body to keep me warm. "Since our first day of college."

"You were roommates, right?"

"Yeah. She's been with me for a long time. I really miss her."

"Does she travel a lot?"

"Sometimes." I crack my eyes open to look at him. "Why?"

"Just trying to get to know the people in your life."

I narrow my gaze on him, not buying his innocent tone. "I thought we agreed not to focus on my impending arrest for the rest of the weekend."

He shrugs a little.

"Erin would never do something like this," I say vehemently. There is no way. "She's like a sister to me, Cam. She put me back together when she met me, and then again when my dad died. She's an amazing person, and an even better friend. Her family is like my own."

"I'm not accusing her," he promises. "I'm just curious about the people who are important to you. Do you have any family left, sweetheart?"

"No. Well, kind of. My mom's dad is still alive, I guess, and so is her stepsister, but I've never met them."

"Oh?"

"Her dad didn't approve of her marrying my dad, so he cut her out of his life." I sigh heavily, burrowing deeper into his arms. "Social services tried to track him down after she and Amelia died, but I guess he didn't want anything to do with me. He didn't even come to the funeral."

"Christ," Cam whispers and then his lips are at my crown. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"I'm not. I mean, yeah, it would be nice to know where my mom came from, but her dad obviously didn't care about her or he would have given my dad a chance. My parents were amazing, and I kind of feel like anyone who didn't want to be a part of their life together probably doesn't deserve to be in mine, so I don't waste wishes on meeting my grandfather."

Cam's lips run across my crown again and he squeezes me.

"Do you have a lot of family?"

"Just my parents, and my grandmother, who lives in Puerto Rico. There are several cousins and extended family members in Puerto Rico as well."

"Is that where your family is from?"

"Sort of. My grandmother is from here, but my grandfather was born and raised in Puerto Rico. He met my grandmother while serving in the military, and they settled down in San Francisco to raise my father. Once he was grown, they moved back to his childhood home. My grandfather died not long before my dad retired."

"Wow. Have you ever been there to visit?"

"A few times," he says. "It's been a while though."

"You should visit again someday. I bet your grandmother would love to see you."

"I bet she'd love to meet you, too," he murmurs.

"Cam." I tilt my head back so I can see his face. "The only place I'm going anytime soon is to jail."

"Not if I can help it."

"What if you can't?" I whisper, and then bite my lip.

He scowls at me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"Then how did you mean it?" he asks.

"You know what kind of evidence they have that says I'm guilty," I say. "She sent him a song in my handwriting. She registered a phone under my name and address. She's stolen my pictures and entire pieces of my life. What if nothing you find is enough to overcome all of that?" That's my fear…that nothing we do will be enough and that I'll go to prison, leaving Cam to deal with the fallout from being with me.

He sighs and sits up, pulling me up with him. "I know what evidence they have, kitten. But I haven't just been twiddling my thumbs, hoping something substantive falls into our laps."

"I know. You were looking into me."

"Yes, but that's not all I was doing." He climbs from the bed and crosses to the desk, grabbing his laptop before making his way back to me. He settles beside me and opens the top, waiting for it to come out of sleep mode. When it does, he clicks on a folder and then begins opening documents.

I watch in silence until he plunks the laptop in my lap.

"Look," he says.

I click on the first document he opened and see all sorts of pictures of me.

"These are the pictures she's posted, in the order she posted them," he explains as I scroll through. "Your modeling shots are mixed in with newer photos, all out of order."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"No, but people don't generally post old photos of themselves and claim they're new, especially when all anyone has to do is call your former agency to find out when a particular photo was taken and by whom."

I glance up at him, startled. "You did that?"

He nods. "I've tracked down dates for as many of them as I could. It's not a lot to go on, but it's a start in proving that you aren't the person hiding behind this Facebook profile." He nudges my hand aside and opens another document. "This is a list of all the times she said she was traveling. Bryan Gleeson is already working on getting me your attendance records. It'll take all of five minutes to prove you were teaching during some of these supposed trips."

I scroll through the dates, but only one or two are familiar to me. "I was in Los Angeles at this time," I murmur, pointing to the date. "I played at Antonio's club that night or the next night. And that one"―I point the mouse at another date from over a year ago―"was when I flew to San Diego to surprise Patrick."

Cam grunts when I say Patrick's name. "Prick," he mutters under his breath and then, "So you were out of town twice when she was, but you were in town eight or nine other times."

"Yeah," I say, trying not to let the hope welling in my chest grow too large.

"I've talked to a number of her Facebook friends as well. You were right. None of them have actually met her in person." He cocks his head to the side. "If she's really you, why haven't any of her friends met her? The details don't add up, kitten. You stopped modeling three years ago, but she still pretends she's living the life. She's never mentioned being a teacher, nor does she ever talk about your volunteer work. Most of the time, she doesn't even mention your gigs until they're over and done with. If this was you, there would be some hint of your real life, and there isn't. She's made her own version of a perfect life, and she cut out all the details that didn't appeal to her…all those things that make you who you are. You aren't a model, sweetheart. You're a teacher. Everyone who knows you knows you love your job, and they know you don't model any longer."

"I hated modeling," I whisper after a moment, staring at the screen. "I only did it to make sure my dad was taken care of."

"Because that's who you are, kitten," he says, pushing the laptop aside and crawling over me. "You aren't this person, and anyone with sense will see that. You just have to give me time to subpoena the right information. I promise you that I won't let you go to prison for this."

I stare up at him, seeing the determination in his gaze. "It's not enough," I whisper.

"Then I'll keep looking."

"That's not what I mean. I don't want her to get away with this, Cam. Whoever she is, she's dangerous, and we have to stop her. Before she hurts someone else."

"We will, sweetheart," he promises, leaning down to capture my lips with his. "Not gonna let her get away with hurting you. No way in hell does she get to go free, not if I have anything to say about it."

chapter fifteen

dangerous woman

"You're sure?" I ask, glancing out of the window of his SUV at the crowded restaurant. "I mean…can't we just eat at the hotel like we have been?" Until now, we haven't left at all since Friday afternoon. We've stayed wrapped up in each other, ignoring the world outside and opting for room service instead.

"No," he says, reaching over to massage the back of my neck. "I'm not gonna keep you hidden away like a secret, kitten."

"But―"

"No." He narrows his eyes at me, a frown playing at his lips.

"Fine," I say with a sigh, knowing damn well arguing isn't going to get me anywhere. Not with that scowl on his face. He'll toss me over his shoulder and carry me inside if he has to do it. I unlatch my seatbelt with trembling fingers and take a breath. "Let's do this."

"Look at me first," he says, stilling me with a hand when I reach for the handle of the door.

I turn to glare at him. "What?"

"Stop," he murmurs, his voice soft and his gaze softer. "You don't have anything to be afraid of, sweetheart. No one is going to pick up their pitchforks or torches while we're eating dinner."

"I'm not worried about me," I mutter.

"What'd I tell you?" he asks, arching a brow. "I make my own choices."

I bite my lip to keep myself from telling him that I think this particular choice of his sucks. Saying it won't get me anywhere, expect maybe spanked. As fun as it is to have his hand on my ass, I'd rather not have it happen in the SUV in front of God and everybody.

"So fucking stubborn," he mutters with a shake of his head as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking about him and his insane decision to be seen with me in public. "Get your sexy ass out of the car so I can feed you something more than my cock, kitten."

"Fine," I say, shooting him another glare. Before I lose the nerve, I push open the door and hop out onto the sidewalk. A few people seated at tables on the patio glance in my direction. I straighten my dress and hold my breath until they turn back to their food.

Cam climbs out and circles around to me, sliding an arm around my waist.

I jump when he pulls me into his side.

"Relax. No one knows who you are," he leans in to whisper in my ear before guiding me toward the front doors of the trendy French restaurant on La Brea Avenue.

"Bonjour, and welcome to
Noir
," a pretty brunette says as soon as we walk inside, Cam's fingers splayed across my hip. The hostess smiles at us, her gaze lingering on Cam for just a beat before respectfully moving along. "Just two?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to dine inside or out?"

"Kitten?" Cam asks, looking at me.

"Inside, please," I decide quickly.

"Of course." The hostess gathers two menus and slips from behind the booth. "If you'll follow me," she murmurs politely and begins to weave her way through the dining room. The place is packed, diners filling most of the tables available. The smell of fresh baked bread and seafood fills the air, making my mouth water.

Cam stays right beside me as the hostess makes her way toward the back of the dining room and shows us to a booth. It's not exactly private, but this section of the dining room is separated from the larger section by a massive aquarium, leaving those on this side more or less obscured from the other side of the room.

"This is perfect," I say, slipping into the booth.

Cam surprises me by sliding in right beside me.

Our hostess lays the menus on the table. "Your server will be with you shortly.
Bon appétit
."

"Thank you," Cam murmurs and then lays a hand on my thigh, making me jump again. "Easy, kitten."

"Sorry."

We spend a few minutes looking over a menu together before setting it aside, our choices made.

Cam leans in like he's going to whisper in my ear, but he inhales instead. "You smell like me," he says so only I can hear. "Like I've been all over you."

He
has
been all over me. I can't count how many times he's slipped inside of me in the last twenty-four hours. He's taken me hard and fast in the shower, and then slow and easy against the wall. He's made me sit on his face until I screamed, and then flipped me over and spanked me while fucking me from behind. My body is littered with his marks, and every single one just serves to make me burn hotter for more.

I can still feel him inside of me, like he's imprinted himself there. I love it.

"I like having you all over me," I whisper back.

"Yeah?" He grins at me, giving me that dimple again.

I nod, blushing.

"So innocent," he murmurs before straightening up to give our waiter his attention.

"Bonjour. Comment allez-vous?"
the man asks, glancing between the two of us. He's young, my age or a few years younger. With shaggy hair and blue eyes, he's handsome. His gaze lingers on my face for a moment before roving across my chest, the blue of his irises darkening as if he likes what he sees.

"Bonjour,"
Cam says, his accent perfect and his expression hard. He splays his hand across my shoulder, making it clear he's with me without being threatening or over-the-top about it.
"Nous faisons bien. Et toi?"

Our waiter blinks and then laughs ruefully and holds his hands up. "You got me," he says to Cam. "My knowledge of French ends at 'how are you'."

Cam nods once, accepting the guy's surrender, and then he turns to me, his gaze softening. "What do you want to eat, kitten?" he asks me.

I place my order and then wait for Cam to do the same.

"I'll get it right out to you," our waiter says and then nods at us before moving along.

"I didn't know you speak French," I say when he's gone.

"Just a little, but I speak Spanish fluently."

"Really?" My eyes widen.

"Sí, senorita,"
he says and then leans in, pitching his voice low.
"Desde que te conocí no hago nada más que pensar en ti. Tú eres la mujer más bella que he visto. No puedo vivir sin ti. Estoy desesperadamente enamorado de ti."

I have no idea what he just said, but judging from the way he's looking at me―like I'm the center of his world, his gaze soft and open ―he means every word. That look sends butterflies into flight in my stomach.

"What did you say?" I whisper, my voice shaking a little.

"I said that you're all I think about since I met you." He nuzzles his face into my neck, placing a kiss against my pulse. "That you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." His lips drift across my cheek towards my ear. "That I can't live without you." He nips my lobe before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear. "I said that I'm hopelessly in love with you."

"Cam," I gasp as soon as the words leave his lips, my heart stalling in my chest for a moment before racing away.

"I am," he says before I can say anything else. He pulls back, cupping my face between his palms. "You can say it's too soon or that I'm crazy, I don't give a shit. I'm in love with you, kitten. Have been since the first time you fell asleep in my arms. That's not gonna change, so you're going to have to find a way to accept it." He tugs my hand up, placing it over his heart again. "This is yours, sweetheart."

For a moment, I don't know how to respond. I'm stunned, unable to think of a single word as he stares at me, letting me see for myself that he means what he's saying. The truth is right there in his eyes, on his face…in the reverent way he holds my face between his palms.

He loves me.

Oh my god.

He loves me.

"I love―"

I crush my lips to his, cutting him off before he can say it again. He groans into my mouth and then kisses me back like a man on a mission, not giving a crap who is watching us. I don't care either, not when he tangles his fingers in my hair and angles my head so he can slip his tongue into my mouth.

When he pulls back, I'm breathless, dizzy with desire.

"You don't have to say it until you're ready," he murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "But I couldn't look at you for another minute without telling you how I feel about you. You own me, sweetheart. You have since the moment you opened your smart mouth and sang that damn song to me."

"I―"

He places a hand over my mouth to cut me off before I can find the words to say it back. "Not until you're ready."

I nod against his hand, watching him over his fingertips. He gives me another smile before pressing his lips to my forehead and then leaning back against the booth. He twines our fingers together, placing our hands on top of his thigh.

I want to say the words, right here and now…but I don't. Because I'm going to jail at any moment, and I'm suddenly more terrified than I have ever been in my entire life.

Dinner is quiet, enjoyable. Cam laughs and teases me throughout the meal, and then sweeps me up to take me back to the hotel, desire in his gaze. He holds my hand on the drive back to the hotel, sweeping his thumb back and forth across my knuckles, seemingly content.

I'm not, though. The words I want to say are a pressure on my chest, constantly building. By the time we make it inside, I'm ready to explode, but I still can't seem to say them.

What if I say them out loud, and everything comes crashing down around me?

What if I spend the next twenty years of my life in prison, locked away from him?

"C'mere," he says, inclining his head when the elevator doors close, shutting us away from the rest of the world.

I launch myself at him, kissing him desperately.

He grunts, and then he's kissing me back, his hands on my ass, pulling me into his erection. I rake my nails down his arms, pull his hair, and try to climb his body. I'm frantic with the need to feel him inside me again, here and now.

"Slow down, kitten," he says against my lips.

I ignore him, palming his cock through his pants.

"Fuck." His head hits the wall with a thump. "We gotta stop before the doors open."

"You don't want me to stop," I tell him, daring him to deny me.

He doesn't. I rub his length, and he still doesn't stop me. Not even when I unzip his pants and slip my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around him, does he stop what I'm doing to him. A low moan rumbles in his throat as he watches me through heavy lids as I pump and twist, my fingertips grazing his balls.

"It's my turn to fuck you, Cam," I say, getting up on my tiptoes to whisper the words in his ear. "It's my turn to take what I want from you."

He grunts again, an unintelligible sound that isn't a denial.

The elevator shudders to a stop and then dings.

I squeeze the head of his cock and then slip my hand from his pants. He doesn't try to zip them up, not even when the doors slide open. I walk backwards out of the elevator and he follows, his gray eyes locked on mine.

"Open the door," I demand, reaching out for him again when we stop outside his room. My knuckles graze across his erection before I pull his shirt out of his pants and go to work on the buttons.

He does as told, inserting the keycard into the lock and then jerking it out again.

The door opens behind me.

I step backward into the room, pulling him with me.

As soon as the door slams closed, I'm on him again, shoving him against the wall as I rip through his buttons. He shrugs the shirt off.

"Goddamn, kitten," he groans when I scratch down his abdomen, causing his stomach to contract beneath my hands. He likes it rough, too. I give him what we both want, delving one hand inside his pants again while digging my nails into his hip.

His pants hit the floor, and then he's in my mouth again. I take him deep, sucking hard. His hips move as if he's fighting to keep from thrusting into the heat of my mouth, but he stays still, letting me do what I want to him. I suck him in until he's hitting the back of my throat, and then I cup his balls in my hand, playing with him, driving him crazy this time.