Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series) (19 page)

I didn’t need to finish because he had moved in behind me, gripping my hips and guiding me to him. He didn’t enter me slowly, allowing me to adjust to his size. He slammed into me…because that’s exactly what Cee wanted. And she begged him to go faster, harder, to slap her ass after so many strokes. He did it all, filling the
air with his loud grunts, sweat dripping from his body, his hands
roaming to all the places that needed his attention. I couldn’t ignore the fusion that was happening here. I had merged Cee and Charlie. Charlie had always been sexually absent in favor of Cee, and Cee had been submissive yet totally sexual. Now, she was in command.

It was one of the positions where he could get even deeper, but I didn’t allow him to reach that spot right away. My body needed to get used to the penetration before I would let him fully in. But when I did
when I spread my legs even farther and released the muscles inside of me to allow him passage
his reaction was almost enough to make me come.

I looked over my shoulder, watching his eyes travel from the small of my back to my face and I lifted my knee, lengthening the
space between my legs. Then I relaxed everything inside of me,
dropping
my guard so he had complete access. He could invade me at
whatever depth he wanted.

When he felt the difference, his eyes lit up and I looked away, preparing myself for the intensity that was urging me closer to that peak.

“Tell me you’re close,” he said.

I knew he was; I could feel it in his stroke. I didn’t answer with words. I responded with my body instead, taking over the bouncing
and grinding as his body stilled. His fingers dug into my hips,
preparing for his build, and I continued to ricochet against him until I heard
the orgasm come from his lips, from his body spilling into mine. I
exploded at the same time and worked it out as I trembled over him, my muscles convulsing in sheer bliss.

He didn’t pull out when I stopped moving. He leaned over me instead, and flattened me onto the bed, his arms resting on top of mine and our cheeks touching.

“That couldn’t have been Cee,” he said. He leaned up for a
second, gently kissed my lobe and moved right back down.

“Why do you say that?”

“I saw the way you looked at me.”

“I was on my knees, Cameron, with my ass facing you. I didn’t do a whole lot of looking.”

“But I did. You did something Cee would never think to do in a situation like that.”

“What’s that?”

He moved his face once again, pressing his lips into my ear. His voice was low, sensual, but the tone was completely honest when he said, “You smiled at me.”

It was such a small thing. But he was right. If Cee was the power, the control I maintained during sex, then Charlie was the freedom I felt to be soft and real.

And the credit for that belonged to Cameron.

“CHARLIE, I’M COMPLETELY SPEECHLESS.”

Chet and I stood together several feet away from his windows, observing the canvas I had just rested against them. Since I painted each piece in layers, I would usually send the buyer pictures of their work in progress during the creative process. But I hadn’t done that with Chet’s. I wanted his to be a surprise; I believed I knew exactly what he wanted from this painting. So I kept him updated with emails instead, and as soon as the acrylics had dried, I called him to make the delivery.

The natural light revealed the intricate details on the body I’d
created. The figure was a man, huddled in a ball in the middle of the
canvas; a darkened, dungeon-like background surrounded him,
composed of mostly gray and silver rock similar to Chet’s den
downstairs. The body closely resembled Cameron’s; it wasn’t frail in any way.
But there was a hunger visible in the muscles, stretched lean and
taut. Filth covered the bottoms of his feet, and rested under the nails that gripped his knees with such ferocious pain. His face was mostly
hidden behind his knees, though a sliver peeked out, enough to
reveal that his eyes were covered in a navy mask. The fine markings on his skin were fresh and raw, and were meant to bring forth a crushing despair that any viewer wouldn’t be able to ignore. They were tiny cuts, deep and short, leaving trails of white scars all over his skin. There were hundreds of them on the surface of him. I knew, because
I’d counted them all as I’d sliced. I’d used a thin, narrow palette
knife to carve his flesh in a similar way as I had done to my earlier work,
Kerrianna
. Both were carriers of pain, and both bore the scars of deep agony on their flesh.

I heard my cell phone ring from my bag, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to break my focus on Chet and his response to the piece.

“Is it what you had in mind?” I asked. “If not, I can always go back and repaint
”

His hand dropped on to my shoulder. “Not necessary. It’s…perfect.” His voice cracked, a small pool of tears welled in his
eyes. “It’s perfect.”

This canvas was more than just a piece of art for his apartment.

This was
him
.

It was what I’d intended to create. It was what I believed he wanted and needed this painting to be.

I laid my hand over his and gave him a moment to let the
emotion pass. “Would you like me to hang it for you?” I asked.

“I would love that.”

I lifted the piece off the windows and I followed him into the red elevator, which took us one floor below. He had already prepared the concrete wall and had the hooks securely in place. I positioned the painting on top of the metal clasps and made sure the piece was level. The room had candles, but no natural light—and unless there were bulbs hidden in the ceiling or in the tops of the cages, there was
no light in the room at all. But for
The Dungeon
, he’d had a gallery light installed to perfectly illuminate it. A spot of light in his world of
darkness.

We marveled at the canvas for several more minutes, contrasting the way it had looked upstairs against the darkness of emotion it brought down here. It had a completely different vibe now. It was
the answer, the result of how a room like this could break
someone…or maybe it was a reflection of how broken he had been before coming in here. Both were likely. Either way, Chet didn’t appear to be afraid of its message. This was the one place where he didn’t have to apologize for what and who he was. I respected him for that. And I felt that my piece mirrored his sense of power back to him.

“It’s fitting,” I said. “And it’s quite possibly one of my favorite pieces.”

He glanced over at me as his hands dropped and his arms
wrapped over his chest. “Hearing that from you makes me a very happy man. You probably could never understand how much so.”

“Actually, I think I understand perfectly.”

He reached for my hand, and I readily took his in mine.

I’d never touched my clients, and I’d especially never held their
hands. There was some professional remove that kept me from
bridging that gap with any of them. But something was different about Chet. We had a connection I’d never felt with any of my other buyers. I believed it came from my understanding of his pain. I didn’t know what he had experienced specifically or the type of torture he’d overcome, but he was a survivor of whatever it had been. Cameron was one as well, and reminded me that I was one, too. I hadn’t just created this piece for Chet.

It was for me, as much as for him.

Our clasped hands turned into a hug before I walked into the main elevator. Once in the lobby, I dug my phone out of my bag and saw that the missed call was from Cameron. I phoned him back as soon as I got onto the sidewalk.

“You’re not going to believe who just showed up,” he said.

There was a spark of hope in my chest when I thought that
maybe
it had been my father, but I knew the chances of that were extremely slim.

“Who?” I asked.

“Ryder.”

Cameron’s brother...

“I thought he wasn’t due back for a few more months?”

At least that was what Ryder’s last email had said. But
considering how he’d kept extending his trip, we’d learned not to put much faith in the dates he mentioned.

“He wanted to surprise me. He sure as hell did, too. Get home soon, if you can. He’s dying to meet you.”

I was dying to meet him, too. “I’ll be right there.”

I put my phone back in my purse and hailed a cab. As I got into the backseat, I pulled out my compact to check my makeup and my hair. This was the first time I’d be meeting the person who amounted to Cameron’s whole family. I didn’t want to appear as if I was trying too hard, but I didn’t want to look like a mess either. I swept a bit of gloss over my lips and a thin layer of liner under my lids, and I tucked the loose strands of hair behind my ears.

I didn’t know much about Ryder other than the basics: he was a
cop who’d been injured on the job, and instead of taking time to
recuperate at home, he had gone backpacking through Asia. It was a
shoulder injury, so it had little impact on his ability to travel.
Cameron had purchased Ryder’s plane ticket; he received an email every time
the itinerary changed. They’d come quite often in the last few
months. Ryder had chosen to adventure in such remote areas that phone access was scarce. Those notifications ended up being the majority of the communication between the boys. 

I knew it pained Cameron that his brother had been so out of touch. He didn’t have to tell me how he felt about it; I could feel it in him, and I saw it on his face every time the emails came. I hoped all of that would change now that Ryder was home again. Cameron needed his family, more than what I could be for him, and more than just the father figure that Professor Freeman had become. He needed his brother back.

I threw some cash at the driver once he pulled up to our
building and rushed through the lobby. As soon as the elevator opened into our apartment, my eyes scanned the room. Cameron was sitting on the couch, alone.

“Where is he?” I asked, dropping my bag behind the couch and giving him a quick kiss.

“He just went into the bathroom to clean up a little.”

I loved seeing the happiness on his face, the reassurance that his brother was home and safe.

“Is everything good with him?”

“He’s a little thin…could use a decent bed and a shower.” He laughed in a way I’d never heard before. He couldn’t stop smiling. “Other than that, he’s fine.”

I grabbed his hand, circling my fingers around it.

“I want to ask you something before he comes back,” he said carefully. “I haven’t offered this to him yet…I wanted to check with you first. Ryder gave up his apartment before he left for his trip. There wasn’t any reason to pay a lease when he wasn’t living there, so he put all his stuff in storage, and…”