Not the Placeholder: A BBW New Adult Serial Romance (Not the Hot Chick series Book 4) (2 page)

"Trying to get this party started, what do you think?"

The golden specks in his eyes glinted with mischief. "What's wrong with starting it right here?"

****

His question left her speechless and definitely intrigued. The teasing light in his eyes already had her motor purring.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Nothing to say, little Layla?"

Her pulse gave a little jump. "Oh, I've got something to say."

"Which is…?"

"Which is you've got too many clothes on." She was already shrugging out of her bulky sweater. "Hurry up and get out of them."

"Yes, ma'am!" He made quick work of his shirt and jeans while she shimmied out of her leggings. Just as she was about to unhook her bra, he stopped her. "Hold it."

She froze. "What?"

"I want a good look at you, that's all." His gaze drifted over her full breasts cradled in her lacy bra, down past her rounded belly and generous thighs, lingering a moment on the matching bikini panties. "Nice."

Layla pulled back her shoulders. "Thanks." She was more discerning in her choice of undies now that there was someone besides herself to appreciate them.

Once she'd have tried to shield herself from his gaze with her hands or a piece of clothing. She'd have been embarrassed for him to look at her so boldly. But Cam's appreciation had changed that. She loved the heat in his eyes, knowing he wanted her. And if there was still a tiny part of her that wanted to be shy with him, Layla subdued the impulse. Cam's admiration made her proud.

"Now take it off. Real slow." His voice was low and rough.

Her breasts were thrust forward as she reached behind to unfasten her bra. Cam watched with heavy-lidded eyes. He gave little hum of approval when all the hooks were freed and she slowly slid the garment down her arms.

She had plenty to appreciate, too. Cam in only his briefs was a sight to behold. The pads of her fingers tingled as she imagined tracing the muscles of his chest and abs, playing with the crisp, dark hair leading down to his happy trail. Her palms itched to grasp and stroke the hard cock straining the front of his briefs.

"Stay there. Just like that," he instructed as he looked his fill. He held up a finger. "Just like that."

He backed out of the room as if he didn't want to miss even a moment of the spectacle. She laid the bra over the back of the futon, but aside from that, did nothing. Her skin prickled with excitement as she waited for Cam's next move.

There was a lot to be said for being a sex object.

When Cam returned to the living room, he'd dispensed with the briefs altogether. If he was mouthwatering in his underwear, out of them he was purely panty-melting. His erect cock nodded a happy hello as he strolled toward her, a handful of square packets in his fist. "You ready to play?"

"More than ready." Her eyes widened as he tossed the condoms on the side table. "How many have you got there? You're scaring me."

"Aw, don't be scared, baby." He tugged her so she fell against him, her breasts flattening against his chest as he swooped down for a kiss. An impatient kiss, hard and hungry, as though he wanted to eat her up.

"Come here." He fell back into an armchair and brought her with him, the both of them laughing. She wriggled to get off his lap. "Wait, let me take off my pants."

"What for?" He held on to her, arranging her so she straddled his lap. The hard length of his erection snuggled the soft panel of her panties. "Don't you remember that first time, when I made you come through your panties? That was fun. Let's try that again."

Holding her hips, he rolled his pelvis against her, pushing her down to meet his upward tilt. "They were white cotton, weren't they?" He teased. "Funny little granny panties."

She bopped him on the shoulder with her fist. "No, they weren't, you jerk."

"You sure?" He bumped against her again. Sparks crackled through her as the cotton panel of her panties buffed her clit. "'Cause I could swear…"

"Jerk," she muttered as she moved against him, matching the thrust of her hips to his.

"You were cute. Kinda shy. Like it was something new for you. It was a turn-on."

"Yeah?" She was panting now, short of breath, her heart thumping. She was close to coming, so close she could almost reach out and touch her orgasm.

"Yeah. You remember? Huh?" His voice was deep, insistent, his stare intense.

"Yeah. Yes." Layla shuddered as he ground against her one more time and she went off like a string of firecrackers.

Cam smoothed his hand along her back when she sagged against him, trembling with little aftershocks. He was still rock hard. Woozy, she kissed his chin, then leaned back to look at him. "You didn't—"

"Stand up a minute." He shifted her off his lap and helped her to her feet. Her knees wobbled and her legs felt like Jell-O. He grabbed a condom, tore it open hastily, and rolled the colored sheath down his cock.

Her eyes widened. "Purple?"

His grin was all teeth. "Purple's hot. Got one in every color, little Layla. We're gonna ride the rainbow." He reached out and snatched down her panties. She stepped out of them and kicked them away.

He patted his thigh, inviting her to climb on board. "Come here."

She took her time, slowly fitting herself onto him.

"Easy," he murmured. He played with her breasts as she eased herself down. "I love these."

"I love that you love them." She sighed as he toyed with her nipples, tugging and tweaking them. His warm, wet mouth enveloped one, causing her to curl against him as he sucked. A hot wire of electricity stretched from her breast to her pussy, and each time he drew on her nipple, her sex pulsed in response.

"Move," he urged, just bossy enough to trip her switch. He helped her, too, holding her hips to lift and bring her down to meet him. With each downward plunge, she felt him deeper and deeper.

"That feel good? Huh?" He ground the words between clenched teeth.

It was always good. Always good with Cam. Though her brain was muddled, a tiny flicker of concern sparked somewhere in the mush. He was different today. He was pushing her and holding himself back. Why was he trying so hard? Why today?

That worry lasted only a moment before it disintegrated. "Oh." Her toes contracted as the orgasm built, then burst upon her. "Ohhh…"

Cam still hadn't come. He must have been aching for relief, because he hardly gave Layla time to recover before he stood, hoisting her up with an arm around her waist.

Before she knew it, he'd bent her over the back of the futon and she was staring at the nubbly cushion cover. Her heart gave a bump of excitement and fear. He'd never been this intense before. Again she felt that flicker of worry. What was he trying to prove?

He stood behind her, the tip of his cock nudging between her thighs. Then he trailed his fingers down her ass cheek to her thigh. "You okay?" His voice was gentle.

Her chest expanded with love. There he was, her Cam. Her sweet, sexy guy.

She reached her hand around to touch his. "I'm good. Come on. It's your turn now."

He took her at her word. Layla grunted in surprise when he entered her in one hard thrust. She let herself go soft and relaxed, happy to be along for the ride. After all, she'd already come twice and didn't expect another encore. Why be greedy?

But Cam was having none of that. Gripping her hip with one hand, he snaked his other hand around to tease her clit. "Come on, baby. Come for me one more time."

How could she resist, with his cock pumping into her and his fingers playing so wickedly? Her pussy squeezed him like a velvet glove, then rippled around him as she tumbled into a third orgasm. He pressed deep, coming hard, groaning, and digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hip.

After catching their breaths, they lounged together on the futon. Cam held Layla close while she snuggled against him. As minutes ticked by, she shifted uneasily. She had no complaint about the mind-blowing sex they'd just shared. But the timing, now that she thought about it, was a bit too convenient. "So. That was intense."

He slid his hand from her shoulder to her waist, tugging her closer. "Yeah."

"Guess I'm hotter than I thought, the way you can't keep your hands off me."

He gave a brief laugh. "Totally hot, babe."

"Or maybe it was just a way to distract me." The doubts she'd had earlier, blown away by the incredible sex, were now back to gnaw at her.

"Huh?"

His stillness and the fake innocence in his tone only confirmed her suspicions. "To keep me from asking too many questions."

He stopped pretending to misunderstand her. "About Paige."

"Yeah. When you saw her, you looked like…I don't know, like someone hit you with a brick or something."

"Yeah, well." He huffed a breath. "It was a surprise."

She shifted to gaze up at him. "So I gathered."

He was doing that thing again, avoiding her gaze. "What'd she tell you while she was here?"

"That you were like a big brother to her."

Cam snorted, which was not the response she expected. "No?" she asked. "She said you always looked out for her."

"Uh-huh." He rolled his eyes. "I looked out for her real good."

Layla was frustrated by his cryptic remarks. "What is it?"

Cam stood, went to pick up his pants. His back turned so Layla couldn't see his face. "She was a neighbor kid, a few years younger than me. At first she was just this pest who was always hanging around. Always tagging along after me in the neighborhood, on the playground, no matter how much I ignored her. I don't know why she glommed on to me, 'cause I wasn't very nice to her at first. She never seemed to want to go home. Later on I learned she had good reason for that."

Layla swung her feet to the floor. "Her parents were—"

"Her parents were shit." He stepped into his jeans, zipped up, and turned to face her. "Her father was a drunk and a bully, her mom was always out of it. Zoned out on pills. Never stood up for her kid. Paige felt safer on the street than in her own home."

"She must have felt safe with you."

"Maybe. I was a kid, didn't pick up on it, but my mom did. She took Paige under her wing. Paige ate dinner at our house more than at her own place. Mom explained how it was to me, told me I should be nicer to the kid. I felt bad, you know? So I started looking out for her more."

"Child Protective Services never got involved?"

Cam's smirk was cynical. "Her parents were a waste, but they weren't stupid. They could get it together long enough to put on a good show when a social worker knocked at the door. And Paige would lie for them. They might have been shitty parents, but they were hers. She didn't want to go into foster care."

Even as a mandated reporter, Layla knew that plenty of children fell through the cracks in the social welfare system.

"She moved out when she was old enough to get on her own. I helped her get a job at the Shamrock. And I could kind of keep an eye on her that way, too. After all that time, I guess I was used to looking out for her. I stepped in a couple times when some douchey customer got handsy with her. And once when her landlord tried to pressure her into sleeping with him."

"She still depended on you."

He sighed. "Yeah."

And had he depended on Paige, too? Had the mantle of protector become part of his self-image? Or were his feelings for the girl even more complicated?

"Thing is, she always seemed to hook up with these losers." Cam snatched his shirt off the floor, then returned to the futon to sink next to Layla. "Guys who didn't hold jobs, just wanted to mooch off her, stole money from her, talked down to her. Total jerk offs. I just didn't get it."

It made sense, though, in a twisted way. Paige had no role model for a decent relationship. Her parents certainly hadn't provided her with one.

"After she broke it off with the last loser, she was moping around, so I thought I'd do her a favor. Introduce her to this guy I knew. A bartender at another establishment. Seemed like a good guy, had a steady job, you know. Turns out they got along like gangbusters, started dating, even moved in together. Man, I was patting myself on the back for that one. Until she started showing up for work covered in bruises."

Layla's stomach twisted. "Oh my God."

"Oh, she always had an excuse. She walked into something, she tripped and fell. You'd've thought she was the world's biggest klutz. Except I knew her and I knew when she was covering for somebody. Just like when she covered for her parents.

"One day she didn't come in to work. Called in sick. And I just had this really bad feeling. Down in my gut, you know. So I went to her place. She talked to me through the door, didn't want to let me in. Said she was contagious. I told her if she didn't open the door, I'd bust it down. Finally it opens and she's got a black eye, a swollen jaw. He really worked her over."

"God." Layla had no other words. She felt sick for Paige, and for Cam.

"Yeah. She gave me all the excuses, how it looked worse than it was, it was her own fault, he was sorry… Same old shit. I brought her to my apartment, told her to stay there, then went back to her place to wait for the asshole. When he showed up, I kicked the living shit out of him and told him if he ever touched her again, if he ever so much as came near her, I'd kill him."

Layla smoothed her hand down his arm and spoke softly. "You saved her."

He swung toward her, his features twisted with contempt. "Saved her? Are you crazy? I put her there. If it wasn't for me, none of that would have happened."

He glared as though he hated her. That and the scorn dripping from his voice had her stuttering. "Y-you didn't know."

"What the fuck difference it makes? I got the two of them together. It was my fault she hooked up with that douchebag in the first place."

"It
wasn't
your fault."

He went on as if he hadn't heard her. "That wasn't the worst. A few weeks later she discovered she was pregnant. In spite of everything, she wanted to keep the baby. I told her I'd have her back, no matter what…"

She waited for him to finish, and when he didn't, asked softly, "What happened?"