Sins & Needles(95)

“Listen to me,” Camden shook me, his voice hard. His eyes were flashing with determination. “I will not let him find you. I will not let him take you. We can do this, you and me. We can live our lives in peace. Maybe you can never be Ellie Watt again. Maybe you can dye your hair red, get a cute little haircut or grow it long, or get a wig. Colored contacts. Different style. We can make you someone else and I’ll take her as I take you now. I know the real you is always underneath, still alive, no matter what name you go by on the outside, and that’s all that matters. This doesn’t have to go on forever. We can shut the door on the past and start over.”

What he was saying was so honest, so real, so incredibly romantic. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt. I got us into the mess. It should be my cross to carry, not his.

But whatever I thought, he didn’t agree. He wanted this mess. He kissed me passionately, his tongue soothing mine, his lips giving me life, fanning the joy I had somewhere inside, the joy I was too afraid to feel. I might end up loving this man, I thought as his lips caressed the skin of my throat. It would be so easy to do.

So, for a moment, I gave into him and focused only on the physical. I only felt what he coaxing me to feel. His firm, talented hands as they skimmed down my body, his tongue as it lapped behind my ears. He peeled back my camisole, his fingers gently brushing my nipples until they hardened, then he pinched them with delicious pain. I slipped my underwear off as his hand traveled south to join mine. He started stroking me, inserting his fingers slowly, one at a time, until I was open, wet and begging for him.

He flipped me so I was on my side and brought my back to his chest. He bit my neck, sucking hard; unlike the pain I had inside, his pain was seductive and sweet. I let myself surrender to it, for whatever he wanted to do to me, for whatever he wanted me to feel.

He pushed in between my legs, his hands running up and down my ass, pinching here and there, drawing a gasp from my mouth until he slowly slid himself inside, filling me with something more than physical. He filled me with light. With effervescence. With hope.

We made love slowly, savoring each touch, each sensation. His hands explored my body like I was a work of art he couldn’t quite believe was real. With us on our sides, he pushed in and out in keen deliberation, making me pant, making me sweat, making me want more. He finally gave it to me, his fingers swirling around my clit with precision, his other hand squeezing my breasts until they hurt, his lips enveloping my ear lobe.

“I love you,” he whispered. “From now until the end, under any name you choose.”

That was all it took. The pressure built in my core and I came in dizzying waves, calling out his name. A few tears leaked out of my eyes as I felt everything I could possibly feel.

He came soon after, his groans and grunts filling my ears, filling the room. He gasped for breath and held me close to him, tight as ever. “I’m afraid,” he whispered.

“Why?” I whispered back, wiping away the tears, my body somewhere on a cloud.

“I can’t ever lose what I just felt.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m afraid if I did, I’d come looking for you too. I’m afraid I can relate…to him.”

I turned my head to look at him. “You’re not him. You never will be.”

He seemed satisfied with that. We lay in each other’s arms, staring out the window, at the birds that flew from tree to tree, bustling with the nature of things.

After a while he got up to take a shower. I joined him, making sure to keep my leg as clean as possible. The tattoo looked really good. The scabs were starting to crust over which is never fun, but even with that the image was stunning. I actually couldn’t wait to wear shorts for the first time in my life.

We got dressed, taking our time. There was no hurry now. We needed to come up with a plan, I needed to talk to Gus, we needed to start living again. But there, in that cabin, there was no hurry. It was a hamlet for love and for grief. I let both of those emotions cloak me like layers of silk. I let them slide over me, through my fingers, to the earth, working my way through them. There was no escape from the hurt, but Camden’s love made handling it easier.

We were sitting outside on the Adirondack chairs on the porch, bundled in warm sweaters and drinking spiked apple cider, when my phone rang.

My heart made itself known with a single boom. The last time I’d answered the phone…

I exchanged a worried glance with Camden and quickly got up and went inside. I snatched my ringing, flashing phone off the table.

The call was coming from Uncle Jim. Or at least it was coming from his phone. Not many people would probably have access to it.