Taunting Lips (A Teasing Hands Accompaniment) (9 page)

“Thank you.” I pulled her into a hug that surprised us both. Susana squealed a tiny bit, but squeezed me tight. “I’ll make her happy.”

“I know you will. That’s why I’m here to beg you to go after her.”

Pulling back, I stared at her with a raised brow. “Where is she?”

“In a house we own in the Keys. I’ll give you the address and code to get past the gate. She left a few hours ago with her friends…if you leave within the next hour, you’ll make it slightly behind her.” Susana released me and trekked over to her purse by the couch. Opening it, she pulled out a folded paper and walked back to me. Placing it in my hand, she closed my fingers around the note and smiled. “It won’t be easy.”

“It won’t, but she’s worth it to me.”

“Make her happy, Camden. Please.”

“I promise.”

9

After leaving work, I rushed home. My focus was now on packing, finding a rental property on a private beach, and booking it. Susana had been a lot of help before she left—I was given an extra key and directions. Told about the certain areas of the Keys the girls liked to visit.

Contacting the family’s travel agent was a no brainer. The woman was a miracle worker, and I just didn't have the time to waste.

I was a man on a fucking mission.

Clothes.

Toiletries.

Get the fuck on the road.

With my plans set in motion, I grabbed a small duffle bag out of my closet and began to throw inside whatever my hands touched. Whatever I missed, I’d buy. Inside the bathroom, I reached for that small toiletry bag inside a small drawer that Mom had bought me a few weeks back. The woman liked to be prepared and bought random shit like this all the time. Thank God.

Just as my bag was zipped, there was a knock on my door. Odd. No one I knew ever came to my home through that door. That’s what my private elevator was for.

This time the knock was more persistent, louder than the last, and I stomped across the room. The door squeaked from un-use and the strength used to pull it open. Jesus, would this day ever fucking end?

Would it be possible for me to catch a break?

You have to be kidding me.
 “What the hell are you doing here, Cynthia?”

She squeaked, surprised by my sudden appearance at the door. “I came to talk.” The woman looked horrible, makeup streaking down her face, lips cracked. She wore an old tank top that had seen better days and baggy sweat pants. This entire picture was wrong.

Her presence in my home was wrong.

“How did you get my address? I've never brought you here before, nor do I have my private residence listed anywhere at work.” With my arms crossed across my chest, I blocked the entrance. This was beyond anything she’d done in the past. One word rang clear as I watched her lips tremble and fresh tears run down her face: stalker.

“I–I…” She wiped her face with a trembling hand and then took in a big breath. Cynthia composed herself—shoulders squared and jaw set; she faced me again with a fresh wave of determination set on her face. “We need to talk, Camden.”

“No, we don’t.” I chuckled while shaking my head. Delusional. That’s the only plausible explanation to the shit storm this chick continued to bring my way. “Leave.”

“Please, we…I need this.” Fuck me for feeling bad for the briefest of seconds.

“You have five minutes. Not a minute more, Cynthia.” I moved to the side to let her in, she passed, and then waited for me to direct her toward my living room. Tension surrounded us as we sat across from each other.

There were no pleasantries from me. No offer of a drink.

“How did you know where I lived?” Straight to the point. My eyes stayed locked on hers; hers explored every nook and cranny of my home her eyesight could reach. Enough of this, or she could leave. “I asked you a fucking question!”

Her eyes snapped back to mine, and then to her hands in her lap. “I followed you.”

Figured as much.

“Cynthia, this has to stop. We—”

“You don’t feel anything for me at all?” she interrupted. My mind told me to yell at her. To shout from the rooftops that fuck no, I've never felt even the tiniest bit of attraction toward her. My heart, though, the one that loved my 
gatita
 above all else, warned me to be gentle. To be honest and explain to her that there would never be an 
us.

“I’m sorry, Cynthia, but no. Nothing.” A fresh round of tears fell down her face; she attempted to wipe them as best as she could, but after a minute gave up. She let me see her. The girl who just had her heart broken by me and mourned what never was. “My heart belongs to her—I was never in charge of the game we played. She pulled all the strings, and I moved willingly.”

“Where does that leave me? I love you.” Cynthia came around to where I sat and kneeled down before me. Her tiny hands reached up to cage my face between them, and for the moment I let her, afraid any abrupt movement might make her snap. “We’d be so good together; I could be everything you've ever wanted and more.”

“There is nothing you could offer that will change my mind.” Slowly, I peeled her hands from my face and placed them beside her body. More tears. This was goodbye, and I think she knew it. “I love her. I’m sorry, Cynthia. We…” I pointed between us “…will never be, and I think it’s best if you found employment elsewhere.”

Nodding, she stood up from her kneeling position but didn’t look at me. As if in physical pain, she rounded the table and reached for her purse on the other couch. I heard her sniffs, saw the way she tried to control her emotions from bursting forth and making things all the more uncomfortable between us.

“For what it’s worth,” Cynthia said, her back still facing me as she paused just outside the entryway to my living room. “I’m sorry for being a bitch…for making things between us and the rest of the crew awkward. It was never my mission to fall in love, nor was it to act like a jealous psycho…I’m sorry, Camden.”

“Thank you.” Standing up, I marched over to her and gave her a gentle hug. “Someday, you’ll find someone worthy of you. Never settle. You’re a nice girl, Cynthia, beneath all the makeup and fake personality you present to the world. I’ll have a letter of recommendation for you when I get back, okay? Mom will take care of your severance. Take care.”

“You too.” We pulled apart then, and I walked her to the door from which she entered my home. Her hand reached forward and held the knob; she paused and spoke so low, I almost didn't hear her. “Just promise me one thing, Camden.”

“Okay,” I answered, thrown off by her sudden request.

“Don’t let her go.” With that, Cynthia walked out, and I silently vowed to honor her final request.

Driving down to where Amanda hid with her friends was therapeutic in a sense. A chance to leave the city—especially its traffic—for a few days and breathe in the smells of a sunny day in the tropics. To take in the clean and salty air that surrounded you the closer to the beach you got was, in one word, cleansing.

Clear blue waters that relax and purify you of all the negative energy a big city could sometimes bring. Each inhale was like sex; cleared the mind, shifted focus and in my case, it made me a dangerous predator.

Over the last few days, I’d had to deal with so much shit. I had to face my past in order to give her my future.

“I’m coming for you.” It was my vow—my motherfucking promise to us. Rolling my window down, I let the calmness of the water that surrounded me on this bridge infiltrate the inside of my car. Sunshine; it smelled of warmth and a hint of her sweetness.

Of peacefulness.

On the radio, the DJ announced the latest club banger. A local boy had made it big and was everywhere you turned. Most importantly, it was the same song I danced with my 
gatita
 the night we met at Rage all those months ago.

The first time I touched her. Felt the silkiness of her skin beneath my fingers become compliant to my needs. Where her every curve came alive in my arms.

First time I smelled her, inhaled her sweet scent. I enjoyed her that night. Amanda vibrated with hunger for my touch. For me.

“Fuck.” Her taste still lingered in my mind. My cock twitched, and I reached down with one hand to give the needy fucker a much-needed squeeze. It did nothing to help, but it was all that could be done as I drove down the seven-mile bridge.

The directions Susana had given to me in that note led me to a nice two-story house in the lower Keys. On a private and secluded section of the beach, where I would find my 
gatita
 tonight and end the pain we were in.

I needed to find her alone.

Our breakdown and rebuild didn’t need an audience. This mess was ours and not a side show; we didn’t need the unnecessary opinions of her friends. Resolving this wasn’t the problem. In my head, there was no other choice for either of us. She gave herself to me, and I was here to return the favor. Giving her my heart was never my intention in the beginning, but she took it anyway without a word from me. No permission needed as the fucker beat only for her.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed the one person I knew would help me. It rang once.

“What did you do?” Courtney whispe
r
-
y
elled into her phone. She sounded upset, irritated with me.

“I’m here.” Deflection was warranted at the moment. It was neither the time nor place to discuss the clusterfuck that was my life at the moment.

There was the sudden sound of plastic hitting tiled floor, then, a lot of static. Lastly, an out of breath and wheezing Courtney trying to get herself together as someone in the background asked her if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she said, and the noises in the backdrop faded. “Where are you?”

“Outside the property.” I laughed and opened a bottle of water before taking a sip. “Susana Brooks came to see me, apologized for everything, and told me where to find her.”

“No shit!” Courtney yelled before a round of giggles burst through. “You’re outside? I don’t see you.”

“I’m here, but leaving in a few…didn’t think just showing up would go well.” Pulling out from behind their gate, I drove down a few blocks in search of food and was in luck. A small, beach-side café sat right on the sand, the smells coming from it making my stomach rumble. It was still early out, and I needed to let Courtney do her thing.

Starving and with time to kill, this was the perfect place to rest for a while.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“Can you get the others out of the house tonight?” The girl behind the counter smiled at me as I entered. Fake tan and overdone. No thank you. She opened her mouth to welcome me, but I beat her to the punch and pointed at the phone.

“Um…yeah, that should be a problem. Mandi’s sort of mad at the moment.”

A frown and pouted lips from the cashier met me next.

Instead of paying her any more attention, I pointed at a number two on the menu atop the counter and handed her a twenty. Huffing came next, but I walked away before she could say a thing. She could keep the change for all I cared.

“Amanda can’t…wai
t
.
W
hat? Why?”

“Why do you think?” Courtney let out a long sigh, and the sound of a sliding glass door being closed was heard.

“I had to see her.” There was a small unoccupied table facing the water a few feet away from me, so I walked to it and sat down. Frustration and my desire for all this to be over was mounting. With the hand not holding the phone, I pulled my hair and groaned in exasperation. “After our talk, I came to realize quite a few things, my love for her being one of them. There was no way I could continue to stay away
.
Ev
erything within me—my every pulse dictated that I go to her.”

“Amanda’s mad at me, Camden.” Courtney hissed and let out a few curses. “I told her I went to see you—she got jealous, and …”

“Thought the worst,” I finished for her.