“Cam!”
He circled and thrust faster and then she clamped down on him, one hand gripping his wrist as her pussy milked him and she cried out.
He let himself go, thrusting three times, and coming hard, calling her name.
“Whitney! Yes! Yes!”
She immediately pulled herself up and wrapped her arms and legs around him. He held her tightly, feeling the goosebumps pebbling her skin. Then he yanked his pants up, scooped her up with his hands under her ass, and turned toward the hallway, heading for the stairs.
“Our clothes. And the cookie dough,” she protested weakly, her face against his neck.
“I’ll take care of it all later,” he promised.
She reached out and flipped off the light as they passed it, leaving only the soft glow of the light over the sink.
He loved that she just let him take care of things. He hadn’t realized how important that was to him until he’d moved in here. His mom had always taken care of things in their home. His grandmother had single-mindedly taken care of their family business. He absolutely contributed to Fluke, Inc. and now Hot Cakes, but… he was an attorney. He was easily the most replaceable of any of the guys. He knew they never would replace him, but what he contributed was much more in the category of friendship than it was anything legal that another lawyer couldn’t handle.
But here with Didi and Whitney it was different. He was doing something here that he truly felt no one else could do as well. It was very domestic and very full of fat and sugar at times but it was important.
He turned to climb the stairs, loving the feel of her in his arms.
“You can’t carry me all the way up,” she said.
“Watch me.”
He started up the steps.
“This is so hot,” she murmured.
“You like being carried?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone.”
“No one would believe me anyway,” he said against her head with a smile.
It made him feel stupidly manly. And he would never tell anyone that either. Probably not even her. She wasn’t some “little lady” who needed a big strong man to take care of her.
But she liked when he did. And so did he. So, yeah… no one else needed to know.
He turned down the hall heading for her room. He could take her to his, of course, but his room was a guest room. He wanted to be with her in her room, in a permanent place. And, yes, a place where she’d think of him every time she lay down.
He hoped to be in there with her every time she lay down from now on but… they still had some talking to do. They were absolutely on their way to permanently lying down together though.
He got it. That’s what she’d said earlier. He knew what she wanted and needed. She was falling for him because he understood her needs with her career.
Cam frowned as he put her down on the bed.
“Come here.” She pulled him down with her.
He went willingly. Of course.
She turned her back and snuggled her body right into his, spooning like they’d done it every night forever.
And it felt right.
But he was still frowning.
No. She wasn’t falling for him just because he was supportive of her career and made it one-thousand times easier on her to pursue it. But he’d helped her see that she could have it all. Him and Hot Cakes.
And… she could. It had stung a little to realize that part of what she needed was for him to not need her. Not need her there for regular family dinners or even every night by a certain time. To not need her to remember appointments or to meal plan or dust.
But she did need him for orgasms, dammit.
And cookies.
She sighed and snuggled closer and pulled Cam’s arm around her body and he sighed too.
Orgasms and cookies. Yeah, he could work with that.
20
Something woke them up at 4 a.m.
But it wasn’t an alarm. Or the theme song to Magnum, P.I.—on TV or on Cam’s phone.
But it was Didi. Shaking them awake.
She was at the bottom of Whitney’s bed, shaking the entire mattress. “Whitney! Camden! Wake up! Wake up! It’s bad!”
They both sat bolt upright.
“Grandma! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Whitney started to get out of bed, realized she was naked, realized Cam was beside her weighing down the other side of the sheet, yanked it hard, then realized that would leave him naked.
She grabbed for a pillow and tossed it over his lap and then yanked the sheet again, pulling it over her body and sliding out of the bed.
“Henry called. It’s Maggie,” Didi said.
Still half-asleep, Whitney stood at the side of the bed, blinking.
Henry? That name was familiar…
“What did he say?” Cam was off the mattress, the pillow clutched against his midsection, moving toward Didi.
Henry. Cam. Right, Cam’s little brother.
“Why did he call you?” she asked.
Okay, maybe at 4 a.m. that wasn’t the most important part of the situation. And it was 4 a.m.? She blinked at the clock. Why hadn’t Didi gotten up to watch Magnum, P.I.?
“He said Maggie got sick and they took her to the hospital,” Didi told Cam.
He reached her and put a hand on her shoulder, the other still holding the pillow in place. “Maggie is at the hospital?”
Whitney felt her stomach tighten as her grandmother nodded.
Then Whitney realized that Didi was dressed. Fully. She had on pants and a blouse and shoes. She even wore a necklace and had her purse in one hand. She had her hair brushed and—Whitney blinked—Didi was also wearing lipstick.
“We need to go,” Didi told him. “Right now.”
“I need to call Henry. Or Dad. Or Zoe.” Cam looked around for his phone, turning to face the bedside table.
Didi’s gaze dropped to his backside. “I already told you what he said,” she replied.
Whitney rounded the bed quickly, turning Didi by the shoulders and pulling her grandmother’s
