“Does this hurt?” he whispered as he held my damaged leg in his hand, his eyes roaming all over my naked body.
I shook my head no. “Not right now.”
He peered at the bandages. “Once these come off, once it heals, I’ll make you beautiful again.”
“You already made me beautiful, Camden,” I whispered. “Now get your head between my legs.”
His dimples appeared. “As you wish.”
He parted my legs and started moving his mouth up my inner thigh until he was teasing my lips. Once his tongue found my clit, needy and full, he spent no time getting me off. I grabbed his hair, yanking on it with each wave of orgasm as he moaned into me, the vibrations bringing me to new heights.
When I was coming back down, he looked up at me with his glistening mouth and a devious glint in his eyes. “You know that’s not how we’re supposed to make a baby.”
“Then show me.”
He came back on top of me and poised his stiff cock into me, entering slowly, very slowly.
Torturously slow.
“Camden,” I whispered, my body bucking for him. “Faster.”
“I’m in no rush,” he purred. “I want to live in every inch of you.”
He pushed in and out, silky smooth with just enough friction. I watched him as his wide chest overpowered me, straining with each controlled movement. He looked up at the ceiling and groaned loudly as he pushed through, then looked down at me with heavy eyes, his mouth open in lust. His gaze undid me, so much passion and love, now more than ever.
He picked up the pace, wrapping one of his large hands around my waist while the other began stroking at my clit again. Each thrust became harder, deeper, until he was buried far inside of me. His breath hitched as he said, “I want to put a baby in you. I want this. Oh, I want this.” He moaned again and I joined in, my nerves white hot and begging for release. Blood was pooling deep in my core, the pressure building. This was love-making, baby-making, an act of creation and pure, raw, primal power.
We elapsed into a steady rhythm, the headboard slamming against the wall, the paintings rattling, sweat streaming off each other’s bodies in the hot, tropical night. I was wet, so wet, and blossoming for him, driven by his mass, stretched by his fullness. I was fulfilled and yearning all at once, and I watched as his slick cock slid in and out of me, watched his whole body as he drove in deeper and deeper until I thought I was being staked to the bed.
“Oh fuck!” I cried out, taken by surprise and coming fast and hard. I dug my nails into the back of his shoulders, my hips rocking in unison with his.
He came too, floored by his orgasm and I felt higher than the clouds as he poured his seed inside of me, my convulsions bringing it out of him and harboring it deep inside. He swore amidst his groans, his thrusts slowing down, until he lay down on top of me and kept himself inside me.
He brushed the hair off my face, gently running his fingers over my cheeks. He cleared his throat and smiled, sated, happy. “You know, if that didn’t take, I am game for trying every day. Several times a day. On the hour.”
I grinned and pressed him close to me. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that. I’m addicted to you. I must have my fix.”
“Is fix another term for cock?”
“It is for yours. You should have a warning label on that thing.”
He let out a small laugh, his lips tickling my collarbone. “Eh, it’ll probably rub off anyway from all the use.”
I sighed contently and wrapped my arms around him. He made beautiful sense out of all the ugly things I had done.
We fell asleep like that.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was almost sad when we finally bid adios to Mexico. We ended up spending a few more days in the country, just lying on the beach and trying to get our lives back on track, to remember how to be real people in normal situations. The only problem was, the stint in Zihuatenejo was just a vacation, just a blip of normalcy before we had to delve back into things we didn’t want to do.
None of us wanted to take Ben like that. If there was any other way, we would have taken it. But Gus was right – either Camden would never see his son again or this was his only choice. And in any other mother’s arms, Camden would have probably let that happen.
Not with Sophia.
And it was she who was on our lips as we drove up the country and back into California. The border officials were a little suspicious of the three of us, but our passports all went through with flying colors and when they searched our vehicle – thoroughly, I might add – they didn’t find anything. We had ditched every weapon from the car in a gully outside of Tijuana. We were clean.
“So where’s the first stop for our new lives?” I asked as we drove through San Diego. I felt so much safer being back in America, back on my home turf, but I wouldn’t dare let myself relax. Not yet. “Do we need to be close to Sophia?”
“We need to find out if Sophia is still living where she was,” Gus said from the front seat. “We can use my place as a home base. I have a friend with a house up the street from me who rents it out on a weekly basis.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Not that I don’t want you two in my house, but you know, just having the one bedroom and all it might be a little awkward.”
Camden winked at me in the mirror and we drove on until we ended up at the beautiful enclave of Pismo Beach. After Gus set things up with his friend and the house, which was a bit too large for the two of us but at least it was available, Camden and I headed to Target to stock up on all things wonderful and American. We had to get through the tough part first but we were still at the start of our new lives together. I even paused at the baby section, picking up an adorable tiny tee-shirt that said
“Look!” I exclaimed, shoving it in Camden’s face. “Your favorite band.”
He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “What if she’s a girl?”
“Like hell our daughter wouldn’t be a fucking rocker chick.” I threw it in the basket. “I don’t care if I’m jinxing it, we’re buying it.”
He pushed the cart along gleefully and I was hit with a sudden wham of pain. Not for my leg, no that was much better. I remembered what happened the last time I thought I was pregnant, all those years ago with Javier. I jinxed it then.
Even saying his name in my head put shivers down my spine and caused me to look around uneasily. Even though I had gotten prematurely excited with him, it wasn’t going to stop me from getting excited with Camden. Camden gave me hope and I was hopeful. He gave me strength and I was strong. We would be together. This all would work out. After everything we’d been through, it had to.
“You okay, baby?” he asked me, putting his arm around my waist.
“I’m good. Just … wary, I guess.”
He was being a bit on edge too, constantly worrying that someone was going to recognize him. Ever since we had come back into the country and had done a quick search of papers and the internet, the whole “Camden McQueen is Wanted” thing was pretty much gone. There were far worse people out there to report, including rumors of cartels coming across the borders and the Mexican Drug War flaring up on American soil, fighting for possession of local gangs and marijuana growers. It was only a matter of time before the war would come north, the papers would report, after a car exploded in San Diego the previous week. Funny how what we were experiencing south of the border was going on right here in our own backyards. Or at least the ghettos, as it
