Page 48 of Wrecked
While looking out into the night, I come to a decision. Next week I'm going to talk to my supervisor about changing my hours. I need to make sure I'm getting at least one day off every week. Two days if possible. Then I can focus on making friends, go out a few times like Gray said to do, and maybe meet someone else who will help me not think about Cam anymore.
Pushing off the counter, I turn the kitchen light off and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I've got my second wind and don't feel that tired now. It's been so long since an attack that I had forgotten that after the initial drain of energy where I usually fall asleep, I always end up feeling restless after I've woken up.
I should at leasttryto sleep, though. It's got to be around three in the morning, and I don't want to waste my day off tomorrow by feeling exhausted.
After I'm done in the bathroom and just stepping through the door to my bedroom, there's a knock at my door. My hand freezes on the light switch, my head swinging toward the door like I expect it to open and see someone walk through, even though I know it's impossible – it's permanently locked on the outside.
Slowly, I creep back to the living room and turn the lamp on, jumping when there's another loud knock.
My heart ricochets in my chest as I look through the peephole and then lower my hand to the door handle, opening it a crack at first and then pulling it wide open. Campbell stands there, head lowered but still staring right at me with an almost predatory look in his eyes while he grips the door frame.
There's something so raw and intense about his look that I find myself taking a step back as he releases his grip and stalks toward me. Each step I take back is matched with one step of his toward me.
“What are you doing back?” I whisper.
A humorless laugh slips from his mouth. “I don't know, Jaz.” His voice comes out low, sexy. “But there's something about you that I can't seem to stay away from. And you're right, I am scared. Just not of what you think.”
The door clicks closed behind him, and I continue walking backward until my legs hit the side of the couch. Leaning down, he stops when his lips are just a hairbreadth away from mine, and I hold my breath, waiting for his next move.
I watch his gaze rove over my face, lingering on my lips and then stopping on my eyes. “And Idowant to try to be better . . . for you,” he whispers close to my lips. “Fuck, I want to try.” And then his mouth is on me, kissing me like a ravenous man. My lips part of their own accord, welcoming him like they belong there.
One strong hand lifts to the side of my neck, slowly trailing his fingers up until he's gripping my jaw in a gentle hold. I'm sure he can feel the rapid beat of my pulse fluttering under his fingertips. Heat sparks inside me and spreads throughout my body as his soft yet demanding lips move over mine in a rhythmic motion. Then, after tugging gently at my lower lip, he dips his tongue in to deepen the kiss.
His other hand moves to my hip, slipping under my tank top and caressing my skin before his fingers grip my flesh. He pulls me to his hard body, holding me close.
His words from before come rushing back to my mind, further setting ablaze my insides. A groan rumbles from his chest as I press my lower half into him, making contact with his erection. And then his hands are everywhere, pulling, gripping, touching like he's been dying to do this and can't decide what he wants to do first.
This kiss is different from the one we already shared. It's not laced with alcohol or the desire to escape any pain he's feeling. This is fire, and it's passion, and it's lust, and it'severything.
My own hands grip his shirt before starting to slide it up. They're greedy, wanting to feel his skin, wanting to feel him close.
And that's when he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.
“I'm not going to fuck you tonight.”
“Why not?” I ask, still fisting his shirt.
“Because . . .” His breath coasts across my lips. “You had a panic attack tonight, and I'd be an asshole if I took advantage of you now.” He slides his hands to my ass and then lifts me, causing me to yelp while my hands release his shirt and fly up to grip his shoulders. Then, he starts walking. “And who knows, maybe this is just a side effect from it.”
A small laugh slips from my lips. “Believe me, I'm fine.”
“That may be so,” he says, repeating words I've said to him in the past. “But tonight, I'm just going to hold you.” He slides me back down his body, and I realize we're now next to my bed. “Will you let me?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “I thought you didn't cuddle?”
“I don't usually,” he answers with a perplexed frown. “But with you, everything is different. I find that I want to.”
My heart melts a little at his words, and I find myself nodding before taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “Okay.”
“You got an extra toothbrush for me?” he asks, running a finger along my jaw.
“I keep extras for my brother. Bottom drawer in the bathroom.”
Gripping my chin between his fingers and tilting my chin up, he then presses his lips to mine, pausing when he pulls back and shaking his head as he stands straight again.
“What?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“It's just fucking weird. Kissing you like that.”
