Too Wilde to Tame

Chapter Thirteen

CAMERON quietly made his way upstairs, making sure no one witnessed his disappearing act. With a soft knock on the bathroom door, Mia let him inside, then twisted the lock, and eagerly pulled him to her. He braced his forearms against the wall on either side of her head, and his blood heated when she tunneled her hands beneath his shirt and skimmed her palms up along his chest, her caresses desperate and needy.

She nipped at his bottom lip and used her tongue to soothe the slight sting. "God, Cameron, it's been too long since we've been together, and I want you so much," she said, her panting breaths telling him just how excited she already was, and he hadn't even touched her yet.

He unbuttoned the front of her top, just enough so one shoulder slid down her arm, exposing a breast covered in pretty, embroidered lace that was sheer and damned sexy. He pulled that stretchy fabric down, cupped her bare breast in his palm, and scraped his thumb across her stiff nipple.

She closed her eyes and moaned softly, her lower body grinding provocatively against his. "Cameron, please…"

"What, exactly, do you want me to do?" he murmured, and exposed her other breast so he could give it equal attention, squeezing and kneading the pliable flesh.

Her lashes drifted back open, her gaze heavy and sensual and just a little bit wicked. Lifting her hand, she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head toward hers until her mouth brushed against his ear, her breath damp and warm as she spoke unabashedly. "I want you to go down on me and do what you do so well."

Her sexy, arousing request made him hard as stone and so fucking hot for her. There was something to be said about a woman who spoke her mind and had no qualms about asking for what she wanted sexually. In this, at least, Mia was completely open with him, uninhibited, and his for the taking.

"It would be my pleasure," he murmured huskily, and kissed her, tasting the heat of her anticipation, the depth of her need. She pulled his tongue deeper, suckling him aggressively, greedily, and a low groan rumbled up from his chest.

Knowing her penchant for taking control, he released her mouth before she could take charge, pushed her breasts together, and dipped his head and nuzzled the soft, plump flesh. He laved her straining nipples with his tongue and tugged gently with his teeth until she whimpered and begged him to ease the ache gathering between her thighs.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, pushed her skirt up to her waist, and told her to hold the material out of the way for him. Without hesitating, she did as he asked, giving him a full, unobstructed view of her bare belly, her sheer, barely there panties that matched her bra, her soft, supple thighs… and those seductive, lace-up, dominatrix boots she'd worn just for him.

He pushed her legs farther apart, widening her stance, and then slowly stroked his hands up her firm, silky smooth thighs, reveling in her soft sigh of pleasure. Grasping the sides of her panties, he buried his face against her stomach and lavished her belly with soft, damp kisses as he dragged her underwear down her legs and helped her step out of them. Then he sat back and looked his fill of this incredibly sexy, half-dressed woman.

Her voluptuous breasts were bared, and in front of him was the sweetest, softest female flesh imaginable. He reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers over her feminine mound, then skimmed lower, sliding one long finger between those pouty lips to where she was hot and slick with desire.

Her legs trembled. "Stop teasing me," she rasped.

Ignoring her demand, he grinned up at her, deliberately stroking her slower, deeper, heightening the tension building within her. "Remember that night in the truck?" he murmured as he leaned forward, sucked on a patch of skin on the inside of her thigh, and marked her with a love bite before lapping his tongue all the way up to her sex. "You did a whole lot of teasing of your own. Now it's my turn to get even."

She moaned her protest and then inhaled a quick breath when he spread her open with his fingers and finally took her with his mouth. Her back arched against the wall, and her hand twisted in his hair as he slid his tongue along her cleft and delved deep into that hidden pool of honeyed heat, coaxing her into a heady, sexual spell of exquisite wanting.

Three times he brought Mia to the brink of release, teasing her with the promise of an orgasm until she was squirming and writhing and begging him to please, please, please let her come.

He would. But not yet. He intended to be buried deep inside her when she climaxed.

With that plan in mind, he stood back up and slanted his mouth across hers in a hot, tongue-tangling kiss. His erection strained against his jeans, full and hot and heavy, pulsing with every heartbeat. Mia's hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling anxiously with the snap, then the zipper, until she was holding his thickened shaft in her hand. She squeezed and stroked his hard length, and his entire body jerked when her thumb glided over the sensitive tip.

She broke their kiss, panting. "Cameron, I need you inside me now."

God, he needed that, too. Gripping the back of her thighs in his hands, he lifted her, spreading her legs wide to accommodate the fit of his hips while Mia pushed the folds of her skirt out of the way and locked her knees against his waist to give him better leverage. The head of his cock slid along her sex, bathing him in her slick moisture, until he found that perfect fit into her body.

He drove into her, high and hard and deep, the force of his penetrating thrust rattling the pictures on the bathroom wall. He immediately stilled, praying the pictures didn't fall and crash to the floor-and send the Wilde family racing upstairs to find out what the commotion was all about. Mia's eyes grew wide, as if she was thinking the same exact thing, and then she burst into infectious giggles.

He pressed his mouth to hers to quiet her, though he was grinning, too. "I'm thinking doing it up against the wall isn't a good idea." But it wasn't as though they had a bed available.

"As good as it feels, I think you're right." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she arched her lower body, and moaned softly as he surged infinitely deeper. She caught her breath. "How about the counter, behind you?"

He glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see the large, flat surface. "That'll work." He'd make it work.

Bracing his hands beneath her bare backside, he turned around and set her on the bathroom counter so her bottom was poised right on the edge. The height was perfect. So was the view of where they were joined.

"Lean back, and keep your legs wrapped around my waist," he said, all too aware of the mirrors surrounding them, which only served to make their tryst more erotic.

She did as he asked, bracing her hands behind her on the counter-a seductive position that ended up being sexy as hell. Her back was arched, and her exposed breasts jutted forward, those taut, rosy nipples so ripe and sweet-looking his mouth watered for another taste. Her tousled hair fell around her face and shoulders like a cloud of midnight silk and then there were the strong, pale thighs gripping his hips and the electrifying scratch of her leather boots against his bare skin.

With his own hands free, he dragged them up the inside of her thighs, until both of his thumbs were touching her intimately, alternately stroking her clit and caressing the petals of flesh that led to the entrance of her body, where his own lust and need had gathered in a throbbing ache.

She whimpered and wriggled against him, and when that didn't get him to move the way she wanted and needed, she clenched her inner muscles around him. The effect was like being sucked into the softest, tightest, hottest of sheaths, and he groaned and instinctively thrust into her. Except once wasn't enough, not when his body was urging him to move harder, deeper, faster, and give into climax simmering just below the surface.

With his fingers still coaxing her higher, he leaned forward and captured one of her pert nipples between his lips. He swirled his tongue over the velvet soft aureole, and grazed his teeth across the pearled tip before doing the same with her other breast. With her hands immobile, she couldn't do anything but let him have his way with her… as she'd promised him downstairs.

But as her breathing quickened, escalated, so did the long, smooth pumping of his hips and the friction and pressure of his thumb against her clit. He felt her orgasm building, climbing, and he lifted his head from her breasts so he could watch the slow, dazzling way she came apart just for him.

She was like his every fantasy come to life. So sexy. So intoxicating to every one of his senses. Her beautiful breasts bounced softly with each of his successive thrusts, the muscles in her thighs quivered, and her head fell back as her body convulsed around his and her climax swept her away.

Her lips parted, but before she could let loose a cry of pleasure, he covered her mouth with his own. He kissed her, as hard and deep as their bodies were fused, and groaned right along with her as they both crashed over the edge of a stunning, spine-tingling orgasm.

Long minutes later, her warm sigh drifted along the side of his neck while her hands caressed beneath his shirt and up along his damp back. "You are so addicting," she murmured huskily.

So was she. In every way.

Still buried inside Mia's silky heat, Cameron glanced at her face and the content smile on her lips. She looked happy. Sated. And she was glowing like a woman who'd been well pleasured. He wanted to keep her that way… forever.

Forever his.

The emotion that swelled in his chest at that moment was raw and possessive and incredibly real. And the more time he spent with Mia, the stronger and deeper it grew, crowding places in his heart that had been empty and just waiting for the right woman to come and along and complete the man he was.

That woman was Mia. He knew it. Accepted it. Just as he knew and accepted she wasn't ready to hear he wanted her to be a more permanent part of his life.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, he smiled at her and smoothed the errant strands of hair from her soft, flushed cheek. "Do you think anyone missed us?" he asked, teasing her.

"Do I look like I care?" she said with her usual abundance of sass.

Cameron laughed, though he knew with certainty that she would care if someone came looking for her and found the two of them screwing like rabbits in heat. But he didn't call her on that, either.

Instead, he moved away, cleaned up, and refastened his jeans. "I'll go downstairs first. You can arrive a few minutes later."

Giving her one last quick kiss, he stepped out of the bathroom and started down the hallway and toward the stairs, only to come up short when he saw Mia's brother, Joel, waiting there. He was leaning against the railing, arms crossed over his massive chest, looking way too intimidating in his black T-shirt and black jeans.

Cameron wasn't about to give anything away and tried to act casual, though he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that didn't bode well at all. "What are you doing up here?"

"The downstairs bathroom is occupied." Joel pushed off the railing, but before he could head down the hall, Cameron stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

Shit. The gig was so up with this Wilde brother. "You can't go in there."

Joel lifted a dark brow. "Why not?"

Cameron knew Joel wasn't going to make any of this easy on him. Joel knew, and now he was going to use every tactical maneuver he'd learned in the military to kick his ass just as soon as Cameron admitted the truth. And then Joel was going to tell his brothers and cousins what was going on, and the entire family was going to castrate him.

Ignoring the twinge in his groin, Cameron 'fessed up, because lying to Joel wasn't an option for him, not if he wanted to earn the man's respect in the end. "Mia is still in there."

Joel smirked. "I didn't realize you needed someone to hold your dick while you took a piss."

Cameron cringed at the sarcasm edging the other man's words, because it was so obvious that Joel was baiting him. Cam kept waiting for a spark of outrage, but Joel remained calm, and that actually worried him more than an outward show of anger.

He'd come this far, so Cameron figured he might as well spill everything. "Mia and I… we've been seeing each other privately."

"I can't say I'm surprised."

"You're not mad?" Cameron asked cautiously.

"Why in the hell would I be mad?" Joel looked genuinely perplexed. "It's about damn time the two of you hooked up. We all knew it was bound to happen. Besides, I'd rather see my sister settled with someone like you than some schmuck who can't handle her."

Except Mia wasn't looking to be "settled," and therein lay the rub to their relationship, and the situation.

"By the way," Joel said, an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "When I made the bet earlier that Mia would get the best of you before the day was over, I didn't mean like this. However, a bet is a bet, and the way I see things, you lost."

Cameron wasn't about to argue logistics with Joel. Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slapped it into Mia's brother's hand, hoping the payout would work as hush money, as well. "Look, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't say anything to anyone about Mia and me just yet. She's still playing hard to get about all this relationship stuff, and I've learned that she's got to come around in her own good time." Never mind that she was being stalked and he'd yet to find out by whom.

"Fine," Joel said, nodding in understanding as he tucked the cash into his front pocket. "I'll keep this to myself for now. However, if you hurt her in any way, I'll be the first in line to rip your nuts off."

Cameron didn't doubt that for a minute.

LATER that same night, Mia unlocked her apartment door and turned to Cameron, who was standing behind her, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. Because it was Saturday night and neither one of them had to work tomorrow, she really didn't want to spend the rest of the evening alone. Not after the wonderful day they'd had together at her niece and nephew's birthday party.

"Care to come in for a little bit?" she asked, smiling up at him. "I wouldn't mind having the company. We can watch a movie or just talk," she said, wanting him to know she wasn't inviting him in for the sole purpose of jumping his bones. She honestly, truly, just wanted to be with him tonight, without any ulterior motives in mind.

"Sure, I'd like that," he said and followed her inside the apartment.

She set her purse and keys on the foyer table. "Are you hungry?"

He laughed lightly. "I can't believe I'm saying this after everything I ate today at the party but yeah, I am kinda hungry."

"You're a big boy with a big appetite," she teased, her voice laced with a sexy underlying innuendo. "Come on, let's go see what we can find to fill you up."

She led the way into the kitchen, with Cameron following behind, and was surprised to find that Gina was there. She was standing by the stove making herself a cup of hot tea. As they walked into the kitchen, she cast them a quick, cursory glance.

"Hi guys," she said but didn't turn around as she stirred cream into her tea.

"Hey there." Mia was glad to see Gina was safe at home, instead of at Ray's for the weekend, which had been the norm for the past month. "I didn't realize you were here."

Gina shrugged and lifted the collar of her long-sleeved terry robe so it covered her neck, which immediately tipped off Mia and put her on alert. "I came home from Ray's early," Gina said and finally faced them. "He had some things to do this weekend, and I didn't want to stay at his place by myself."

Mia noticed right away that Gina had been crying. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was pink. And Mia didn't care for the way she was clutching the thick material of her robe at her throat, as if Gina was trying to cover up something she didn't want them to see. Like new marks or bruises courtesy of Ray.

Gina picked up her mug of tea, and her hand trembled slightly. "I'll just take this into the bedroom so the two of you can be alone."

"You don't need to go," Mia said quickly, hating the thought of Gina sequestering herself in her room when it was obvious something was wrong. "We were just going to make something to eat. Why don't you sit out here with us?"

"It's okay, really." Gina forced a smile. "I'm really tired. I'm going to drink my tea and then go to bed."

Mia watched Gina go, and as soon as she heard her bedroom door close, she released a frustrated sigh. "He's still manipulating and abusing her."

"I agree. All the signs are definitely there." Cameron came up to her, his gaze searching her face. "Do you want me to leave so you can talk to her?"

"No. I've said everything I can, and most of the time she doesn't want to hear what I have to say, anyway." Mia dragged her fingers through her hair. "I'm just grateful she's here at home, where she's safe. I'll spend some time with her tomorrow, just the two of us. Maybe take her to a movie."

"Okay, if you're sure you want me to stay."

"I do." She opened the refrigerator and grabbed the lunch meat, mayo, lettuce, and tomato, and set everything on the counter. "Besides, I just don't trust her excuse that Ray was busy this weekend, and I feel much better having you here. At least for a little while."

"Not a problem, then." He helped her make his sandwich, spreading the mayo on the bread and then layering on the sliced ham and turkey while she rinsed off the crisp lettuce leaves. "If I don't find out something on Ray, and soon, I'm going to have to set up surveillance on the guy."

She cut up a small tomato and added those slices to his sandwich. "I hate for you to have to do that. I know how busy you've been lately."

"It's gotten to the point that I'm determined to find out who and what he is, and what's in his past that he's trying to hide from."

"I can only imagine." She opened a can of chilled fruit cocktail and poured it into a bowl and then filled two glasses with lemon-lime soda. "Come on, let's take this into my bedroom where we can watch TV and talk while you eat your snack."

In her bedroom, Cameron propped her pillows against her headboard, toed off his shoes, and made himself comfortable on her bed with his sandwich in hand. Mia gave him the remote for the TV so he'd be right at home, and he automatically switched the channel to a cop show. Thinking he was such a typical guy, she grabbed her nightclothes from her dresser drawer and went into the adjoining bathroom to change. Ten minutes later she emerged, wearing a pair of soft cotton drawstring pants and a matching camisole top, both of which were designed more for comfort than seduction.

Still, Cameron's chewing slowed, and his hot, dark gaze raked over her as though she was wearing a provocative teddy instead. After a lengthy and very appreciative perusal, his eyes finally came back up to her freshly scrubbed face, free of any cosmetics.

A warm smile eased up the corners of his mouth. "You look nice without your makeup on."

"Oh please," she drawled, and rolled her eyes as she laid her blouse and skirt over a chair to send to the dry cleaners next week. "We're already having sex, so flattery at this point isn't necessary," she joked.

"I'm being serious." He took a drink of his soda, his expression earnest "You've got beautiful skin and a great complexion. Even without all that stuff you women wear on your face." Finished with his sandwich, he set his plate on the nightstand.

"Well, thank you." Accepting the compliment, she settled in beside him on the bed, crossed her legs, and picked up the bowl of fruit cocktail. "Judging by pictures I've seen of my mother, I definitely get my looks and complexion from her."

"Thank goodness, because I don't think you'd look very pretty as a female version of Joel."

She laughed as she fed him a slice of peach from her fork. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He reclined against the pillows and laced his hands over his now full stomach, content to let her feed him the fruit. "If you get your looks from your mother, she must have been gorgeous."

A warm blush swept across her cheeks, and she picked out a cherry half, her favorite part of fruit cocktail, and popped it into her mouth. "I don't remember much about her, just what I know from photos and from memories that are faded or even imagined at this point since I was only five when she passed away." She felt that familiar pang of sadness that always accompanied thoughts of her mother and the pain of losing her. "I miss her, yet I don't think I ever really knew her, if that makes sense."

"It does," he reassured her and accepted the chunk of pineapple she put to his lips. "What about you and Amelia? The two of you aren't very close, are you?"

His question startled her, and she stiffened defensively before she could catch herself. "What makes you say that?"

"You keep forgetting that my job is to study people, to gauge their actions," he said with a casual shrug. "I find I just do it automatically."

He'd obviously spent way too much time watching her at the party, and that thought made her bristle. "Well, you can stop analyzing me."

"I'm not analyzing you," he said, unfazed by her dismissive tone. "I'm just curious about your relationship with Amelia. Did you consider her the wicked stepmother?"

"Of course not!" Amelia had always been nothing but kind to her. If anything, it was Mia who'd been the wicked, difficult one. And that admission, even quietly to herself, evoked a wave of guilt that nearly smothered her.

"Then why do I sense tension between you two?" he asked in that gentle, coaxing way of his. "Not in a bad way, but it's clear the two of you don't have the kind of close relationship a mother and daughter normally would. I was just wondering why not."

Mia knew she had two choices: blow off the conversation and Cameron's personal questions, or tell him what he wanted to know. Her first instinct was to be stubborn and clam up, but she knew that would be the easy way out. She wondered if she shared that private part of her life with Cameron, a part that still caused her grief when she thought about it, that maybe it would help ease the many regrets she harbored about her relationship with Amelia.

The sweetened fruit no longer appealed to her, and she set the bowl aside and then exhaled a deep breath. "I don't even know where to begin," she said truthfully.

"Do you remember when your mother died?" he asked, helping her along.

The answer to that was very complicated, and she attempted to explain the best she could. "The last thing I remember about my mother was her leaving to visit her sister in Honda, and I never saw her again after that. It wasn't until at least a month after she passed away that my father finally told me she'd died in a car accident while visiting her sister."

A slight frown creased his brows. "You didn't go to the funeral?"

"I didn't know about the funeral," she said and saw shock register on his face. "I was so upset when she left for Florida, nearly hysterical because I didn't want her to go and we'd never been apart. I remembered kicking and screaming and throwing tantrums every night my mother was gone. I missed her so much."

"That's understandable," he said quietly. "You were just a little girl."

"I was a little heathen, even back then," she admitted with a small laugh. "The first night I threw a fit, my father should have put me over his knee and given me a good spanking, but being the only girl with three older brothers, I don't think he knew what to do with me, or how to handle my tantrums."

Cameron laughed, too, and she knew that was his way of silently agreeing.

"Anyway, my father told me that when my mother died, he didn't think I would be able to handle the news and he made the decision not to tell me about her death right then or take me to the funeral." She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat that always accompanied thoughts of missing her own mother's burial and service. "He said it was his way of protecting me from the pain of losing my mother, and I know he was so engulfed in his own grief that he probably wasn't thinking straight or logically."

Cameron rolled to his side, closer to her, and propped his head against his palm. "He had to tell you eventually."

"And he did, about a month after the fact." Her voice had grown raspy, and the back of her eyes stung. "And of course I didn't believe him, no matter what he or my brothers said. I was in complete denial."

"I'm sorry, Mia," Cameron said, placing his hand on her knee in a show of comfort.

"I know my father did what he thought was best for me at the time, but he made the wrong decision." She couldn't stop the sob that made her voice crack, or the tears that filled her eyes. "Because I never went to my own mother's funeral, there was never any closure for me with her death. I believed for years that she was coming back, that it was all just a bad dream and one day I was going to wake up and my mother was going to be there for me again."

The first drop of moisture trickled down her cheek before she could stop it, and it was Cameron who reached up and tenderly wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. She glanced down at him, so grateful for his silent understanding and the warmth of his soothing touch that was like a balm to the pain she'd carried in her heart for so long.

She gathered her composure and continued, because there was a whole lot more to the story to tell. "So now we fast forward three years, when my father has married Amelia and I'm eight years old. I've become this rebellious hellion who is always getting into trouble, mainly for attention, and now I'm feeling as though I've lost my father, too, because he has a new wife."

She drew a shuddering breath to ease the pressure in her chest, but it did no good. "Even worse, I'm this little girl who is afraid Amelia isn't going to love me the same way my mother did, so it just became safer for me to keep up those emotional walls between myself and Amelia. I didn't want to set myself up for the kind of hurt I went through when I lost my mother." Biting on her quivering bottom lip, she met Cameron's gaze. "How horrible is that?"

"It's not horrible at all, Mia. Being a little girl, it was a way of self-preservation for you."

She agreed, but she was also coming to recognize that her actions as a young girl had carried through to her adult years and had affected so many aspects of her life. Including the ability to let anyone get too close emotionally. That had cost her dearly with Amelia.

"It's my fault I never bonded with Amelia," she said, confessing the painful truth. "She tried in so many ways to be a mother to me, but I rebuffed every one of her attempts until she just stopped trying."

"It's never too late to make things right, Mia."

But Mia didn't know how to make it right, or how to bridge nearly twenty years of what had been a strained relationship between herself and Amelia. And there was always the possibility Amelia wouldn't forgive her for being the selfish, self-centered stepdaughter she'd been. That thought made her feel so empty deep inside, because she knew she'd missed out on a relationship that could have been priceless and precious.

The realization made her feel so ashamed, and having just poured her heart out to Cameron, she felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and she tried to cover it up with a light, airy laugh that lacked any real humor. "I bet you're sorry you asked about Amelia, huh?"

"Not at all," he said, his tone as sincere as the matching emotion she saw in his eyes. "It's a part of who you are, Mia, and it's something I wanted to know, or else I wouldn't have asked."

He reached over to the nightstand and turned off the light, so the only illumination came from the TV across the room. As if sensing exactly what she needed, right when she needed it the most, he patted the empty space next to him on the bed.

"Come here," he murmured.

His low, coaxing voice drew her, and the tenderness she witnessed in his gaze made her heart ache for things she'd denied herself for so long. But tonight, she didn't want to refuse the simple luxury of being held, to feel safe and secure in Cameron's embrace, and to know that she wasn't alone as she'd been for years. By choice.

She stretched out by his side, and he gathered her close so her head was resting on the solid warmth of his chest and their legs were entwined. She breathed in his scent and could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. So rhythmic. So comforting. So real.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed and let the burden of her painful memories drift away as his fingers threaded through her hair and massaged her scalp and his other hand stroked along her side and over her hip. Their embrace was intimate but not sexual, and it was so nice just to be held, without expectations of anything more.

Content and strangely fulfilled with his arms around her, Mia fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke in the morning, he was gone, and she realized that at some point during the night he'd slid from her bed, tucked her beneath the covers, and left her apartment After her emotional night, he was giving her space, and while she appreciated his thoughtfulness, she hated more that she'd awakened in a cold, lonely bed without him in it.

Oh, that so wasn't good, she thought with a groan, and buried her face in her pillow, wishing the action could make her forget the fact that she'd given Cameron so much of herself last night, a telling glimpse into her painful past. The tears that had showed him just how vulnerable she was beneath her normal I-don't-give-a-damn facade. And the trust she'd never given to any other man she'd dated.

But worse than that, she feared she'd given him something she'd never be able to reclaim as her own-a huge piece of her heart. That notion scared her more than anything she had ever faced, because it set her up for heartache, for loss and failure, and for the kind of pain she'd spent a lifetime making certain she'd never experience again.