The Dysfunctional Test (30 page)

She swallowed. “I’m not leaving you, Troy. None of us are. The end of this…relationship is not the end of…”

“To hell with this, Cam.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “Do you feel anything for me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

He growled. “I don’t mean as your friend. Do you have feelings for me?” He drew out each word as if talking to a small child.

Why did he care? Troy didn’t do committed relationships. He may say he wanted love and marriage, but his actions proved otherwise. Except in his eyes was something she’d never seen from him, from any man. The way he was looking at her…

No air. The breath ripped from her lungs.

He dropped her arm, his face softening until the edges were no longer harsh. “I need to know, Cam. Please. Is there any room inside there for anything besides friendship?” His finger traced the outline of her dress, over her heart.

She gasped, closed her eyes. To admit the truth would leave her raw. But she couldn’t lie to him. Not tonight. Not after all he’d done.

Her eyes opened. “Yes.”

He stared at her, a cross between relief and pain. Slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbed. He lifted a hand to touch her, but jerked it back. After a few seconds, he tried again, this time cupping her cheek.

“Come upstairs with me. I have to show you something.”

Unable to deny him, she nodded.

Taking her hand, he led her around to the front and inside the garage door of the house. They made their way through the formal living room and up the stairs in silence. Inside their bedroom, he shut the door and locked it. He walked to the patio doors and closed the drapes. He unbuttoned his shirt, removed it, and tossed it aside.

From across the darkened room, she watched his back, waiting for whatever he had to show her. He was so beautiful. So handsome. What in the hell was he doing with someone like her? Even if only for pretend, they had crossed the line, gone too far to take it back now. She wanted to know why he did. After a long pause, his head dropped and his hands fell to his hips.

“Come here, Cam,” he whispered, showing her his profile.

She undid the straps of her heels and slid them off, bumps skating over her skin. He’d never been like this. She’d never come to him. In their lovemaking, he’d always been the initiator.

She walked across the floor, taking his hand in hers. “What do you want to show me?”

“You. I want to show you yourself.”

Gently, he tugged her to the bathroom. Except instead of stepping inside, he closed the door, leaving them standing outside and looking into a floor-length mirror.

He came behind her, dropping his hands on her shoulders. “Look in the mirror, Cam.”

She did as asked, watching their reflection and feeling more exposed than if she’d been naked.

His hands lifted to her hair, pulling the pins out one by one. “Your hair is the color of cinnamon, so different from your Serbian heritage. It smells like lemongrass. I’ll never smell anything close to it again and not think of you.”

Her hair fell to her shoulders as he ran his hands through it. She shivered at his gentleness, wondering where he was going with this mirror thing.

His eyes watched her in the mirror, but his mouth hovered over her ear. “No one has eyes like yours. They show your every emotion, no matter how hard you try to hide them. Your mouth is small, pink, but when you smile it expands your entire face. I can’t stop staring at you when you smile.”

His lips skimmed over her neck, to her shoulders. She closed her eyes. “Open your eyes and watch.” She obeyed, swallowing as the zipper of her dress skated down. “Your skin is soft. I absolutely love the little freckles on your shoulders.”

The dress fell to the floor. She tried to cover her bare breasts, but he took her hands and dropped them. “You have curves, like a woman should.” His finger traced over one breast, down her side, and to her hip, scorching a trail across her skin. “Your breasts fit in my hands,” he said, and proved his theory by cupping them.

She arched back, wanting more. Wanting everything. But he wasn’t done.

Sliding his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he went around her and tugged them down, over her hips, her thighs, and to her ankles. He followed the path down, kneeling in front of her. She stepped out of her dress and panties, shaking when he didn’t rise after.

“Your legs are long and perfectly shaped. When you have them wrapped around me, I lose my mind.” His finger trailed up her inner calf, to her thigh. “What’s between those legs drives me mad.”

Without warning, he closed his mouth over her heat. She gasped, her legs buckling. In one fluid move he rose and caught her. “That’s the best part, Cam,” he said, breathless. “Watching you like this. Knowing only I get to see you like this.” His breath fanned her cheek. “Look in the mirror.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs, constricting and convulsing to a rapid-timed beat. Her throat closed. Opening her eyes, she looked at them. His back to the reflection, arms around her. His taut muscles, her soft curves. His tanned skin to her light. Together.

“This is how I see you, Cam. You’re beautiful.”

Her eyes slammed closed to contain the tears.

“Open them,” he demanded. “Look at yourself. Say it. Say, ‘I’m beautiful’.”

A muffled whimper rose from her throat, and if she hadn’t felt it escape, she wouldn’t have believed it came from her.

She was right. He would leave her raw. Stripped down to the bare, basic impulses and needs. The very thing she sheltered herself from. No other man would compare to him. No one else would make her feel like this. She’d spend the rest of her life empty, waiting in vain for this feeling to come again.

He stepped back, unbuttoned his pants, and dropped them to the floor. “Say it, Cam.”

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, staring at him.

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Camryn…”

“I’m beautiful.”

His smile came easily, disengaging in its charm. “Now believe it.”

Her gaze darted up, away. Tears fell over her cheeks. “Your list, Troy?”

“Yes, this is on my list. The last item. It doesn’t make what I said any less true. I meant it. Do you want to know why I created the list, Cam?” He swiped one of her tears away with his thumb.

She looked at him, realizing she didn’t want to know. A few days ago maybe, but not now. Whatever his motives, they were his. The reasons didn’t matter, only the result. She’d rather have the illusion.

“No.”

She looked away again. He touched her chin and drew her back.

“Say it and mean it this time, Cam. Believe it, ’cause it’s true.”

Her father’s words came back to her as she stared at Troy. All the things her dad said about why she hid from beauty, how she got this image of herself. Then Troy’s words began to sink in.

“I’m beautiful,” she said, looking him straight in the eye and wanting to do more than repeating his words as a thank you.

She reached out, splaying her fingers over his chest. When he leaned in to kiss her, she held him off. Troy’s insecurities about his past held him back as much as hers did. If he could have a list, she could too. So then maybe he would meet the right woman someday and love her, just like he wanted her to do with someone else.

She turned him around to face the mirror, keeping her back to the reflection.

“Camryn…”

“Shh. You listen now.” She touched his forehead with her fingertips. “In your head are all the bad things your father did and said, making you second-guess your relationships. Those around you don’t have a motive. We’re here because we want to be.”

He grabbed her arms, ground out her name. “You are not turning this on me.”

She tugged her arms free. “In here,” she said, touching his chest, “is a good heart. A guy who would never hurt another person because he knows how bad it feels. Because he’s stronger than his dad ever was. You have a conscience. A good soul.”

His arms fell to his sides. His jaw ground, bunching the muscles for her to see. When her gaze drifted to his eyes, he closed them.

“Open your eyes,” she directed, just like he demanded of her. “See the truth, Troy.”

Slowly, his eyes opened and he glanced at her. He expelled a shaky breath and looked away. “Enough, Cam. You made your point.”

“That mouth of yours,” she said, ignoring him, “is quick to crack a joke or kiss me senseless. No one’s ever kissed me senseless. But the real talent there is your disarming smile.” She grinned, remembering. “Your eyes are wicked and dark, like you seek out mischief.”

Her fingers drifted down over his shoulders, his arms, while he stood erect, trying not to respond. “I could go on and on about your fabulous body, about all the things we’ve done together, but you know all that.”

She leaned back and took his hands, weaving their fingers together. She waited until he looked at her before she finished. “Your hands are your best feature. Proof that you work hard, that you refuse to fall victim to your past. Despite how rough and calloused they are, your touch is gentle.”

She pressed her body to his, skin to skin, heart to heart, and wrapped her arms around him. It took him several seconds, but his arms came up and held her back.

He shuddered out a breath. “Why did you do that? This was supposed to be about you. Are you trying to disarm me? ’Cause it worked, Cam…”

“I thought you should see my truth, the way you showed me yours.”

“What does all this mean? You and me. I need to know. You need to spell it out for me.”

They were back to this already. Not even a chance to make love one last time. Reality and tomorrow looming.

Swallowing, she backed away and bent down for her dress. She walked to the closet, and hung the dress before closing the door. As she reached for her bag on the bed, his hand clamped down on hers. He tossed the bag out of her reach.

“Would you stop avoiding my questions? Just this once?” he asked, his voice dangerously low, obviously on the brink of losing it. “You and me, Cam. Spell it out for me.”

Sadness turned to anger in a flash. She knew it was a defense, but she didn’t give a damn. “Fine, Troy. We had a great week together. Is that what you want to hear? You broke me down, we had a few good heart to hearts, and some great sex.” She pushed him away when he stepped closer. “Tomorrow, we leave. All goes back to normal. Is that clear enough?”

His eyes bulged. His mouth curled. Anger radiated off him in waves so strong she felt herself shaking.

“Is that all this was?” he barked. Her chin raised. He strode the few steps to her, pinning her back to the bedpost and her wrists above her head. “Answer me!”

“I believe I did.”

Breath heaving, he stared her down. Nose to nose. His gaze was vicious, and she could tell he was holding onto a thin shred of control. And damn, she wanted him out of control. His erection pressed against her abdomen, and she fought the urge to lean into him. Holding onto her own anger was easier. Safer.

“The hell you did,” he ground out, slamming his mouth over hers.

Chapter Twenty

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Flying into a rage only forces a bad landing.

She couldn’t have been any clearer. Come tomorrow, this was over.

His body didn’t get the memo. Neither did his heart, but he’d worry about that later. For now, for tonight, he had her.

And his anger.

His temper hadn’t subsided one iota. He’d tried to breathe. He’d tried to walk away. Instead, all he got was a raging erection.

His hands dove into her hair, his kiss swallowing her whole.

Not enough.

“You frustrate the hell out of me, Cam.”

One long leg wrapped around his waist. “Good. We’re even.”

Without finesse, he lined himself up and drove inside her. So tight. So hot. She ground against him, crying out, and he almost didn’t get his hand over her mouth in time. He wanted to make love to her at home, in his bed, if for no other reason than to hear her come without restraint.

Shoving his hand away, she crushed her mouth to his, wrung tighter than a drum. His hands fisted the bedpost above her head as he pounded into her. She came again, sliding down the post as the tremors quaked.

Hell no. They weren’t done yet. Not even close.

He grabbed her ass, swung her around, and landed on the bed with her on top. She didn’t miss a beat. She clutched the headboard above his head, propelling her breasts into his face. Her head flew back, thrusting him so deep he saw Heaven.

“Camryn…”

“Shut up, Troy.”

“Okay.”

He came off the mattress, wrapping his arms around her and pumping. A mangled whimper rose from her chest, vibrating her breasts crushed to his chest. Her face pushed against his neck, her hands fisted in his hair, driving him to insanity and back again when they both came.

Hard. Fast. Without an ounce of restraint.

She shook against him, panting. His hold around her tightened, an ineffective way to calm himself. To pretend she wasn’t leaving him. He couldn’t tell if it was her heart or his hammering. Probably both. Only his was broken.