Too Wilde to Tame

Chapter Sixteen

AS soon as they arrived back at his place, Cameron noticed an immediate change in Mia, as if she were already withdrawing emotionally from him because she sensed the end for them was near. By the time they reached his bedroom, he was determined to break through that reserve of hers and make Mia his in every way that mattered-heart, body, and soul. Tonight, he wanted it all and would give no less to her in return.

But before he could make the first move, she slid her arms around his neck, pulled his mouth to hers, and initiated a hot, deep, take-charge kiss. The kind that tasted like sex and sin and desire, and promised erotic, anything-goes pleasure. The kind that could drive a man crazy with the need to get inside of her as soon as possible.

His body responded to the soft warmth of her breasts pressed against his chest and the seductive way she rolled her hips against his. But for as much as she aroused him, he recognized her assertive approach as an attempt to be in control of tonight's encounter, and to keep a wealth of fears and insecurities at bay… to keep what they were about to do within the confines of pure, mindless, fuck-me sex so she didn't have to think or feel about anything beyond the moment of self-indulgence and physical satisfaction.

Her hands tugged the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his jeans in an attempt to get him naked. Complying, he raised his arms so she could strip off the shirt, but when her fingers dropped eagerly to the button fly securing the front of his pants, he grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away. He knew, just as she obviously did, that he couldn't think straight when she touched him intimately. He had no doubt she'd been counting on exactly that, but he wasn't about to let go that way… not until his fingers were on her, not until his cock was buried deep inside her, not until he felt her come.

He broke their kiss, and before she could issue a protest, he turned her around so she was facing his dresser mirror and he stood behind her. In the reflection, their gazes met, hers a dark shade of smoky gray as he lowered the zipper of her dress down her back. His fingers touched the soft, smooth skin he exposed, and he felt her shiver from his caress.

A slow, sensual smile curved her lips. "I didn't realize you liked to watch," she murmured.

He pushed the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, then skimmed the body-hugging material over the curve of her hips until it finally dropped to the floor. His mouth went dry as he took in her provocative, black, sheer lace bra and matching G-string panties that made her look as though she'd just stepped from the centerfold of a men's magazine. Except she was all his. His fantasy. His desire. His future.

He unfastened her bra and tossed it aside as well. Her breasts spilled forward, full and voluptuous and perfectly proportioned to her slender waist and the swell of her hips. "Watching adds an element of excitement, don't you think?" he whispered in her ear.

She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue. "I don't need a mirror to make me hot for you."

Cameron suspected she didn't care for the mirror because it forced her to see beyond the sexually confident temptress standing in front of him to the vulnerable woman beneath. That's exactly what he wanted her to see, and face, and come to terms with. That she was a woman with needs and emotions and she didn't need to hide anything from him.

"Indulge me," he said and brushed his lips along the side of her neck. "And if you don't want to watch, you can always close your eyes."

He'd infused just enough of a challenge in his tone to get the reaction he wanted from her. It was subtle, but enough to assure him she wouldn't look away from what he was about to do.

He started with her bare breasts. Cupping the heavy weight in his palms, he kneaded the firm, soft flesh and then scraped his thumbs across her nipples. They instantly grew tight, hardening beneath his touch, just as his cock lengthened and thickened against the confinement of his jeans, which pressed against her bottom.

Her breathing deepened as he continued to stroke and caress and tease, and he could feel her fighting against the need to just let go and enjoy. She was holding back, emotionally and physically, which only made him more driven to shatter every one of those barriers she'd put between them tonight.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he skimmed his other hand down her stomach and beneath the black scrap of fabric covering her mound. His fingers stroked her intimately, deeply, where she was all velvet softness and slick, wet heat. Her head fell back against his chest, and a low moan escaped her throat.

The view of the two of them in the mirror was highly erotic, with one of his tanned hands splayed on her belly and his other concealed beneath black silk-the color of rich decadence and forbidden desire. He watched the flutter of her thick lashes, the rise and fall of her breasts, and the flush sweeping across her cheeks. Even his own eyes were hot and hungry, his features taut with carnal need-a need he swore he'd deny himself until she gave him want he ultimately wanted… her orgasm. The one she was holding back from him.

Frustrated but still determined, he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck and then gave her a gentle love bite on her shoulder that made her gasp in shock. "God, I want you." His voice rumbled with intensity and raw emotion, more than he'd ever intended to reveal in that moment.

His hold on her had loosened just enough for her to slip from his embrace, and she did so before he could stop her. She climbed up onto his bed and settled onto her knees, with her back to him, showing off the sexy slope of her spine and her bare, heart-shaped bottom. She was still wearing her G-string panties, and attached to the top elastic band spanning her hips were three pink butterfly appliques that made Mia look sweet and innocent, but he knew better.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, a come-hither look in her eyes, and then rose up on her hands and knees. "If you want me, come and get me." A dare. A challenge of her own. A way for her to take control once again. To be the one calling the shots.

She was in for a big surprise.

Hastily, he toed off his shoes and pulled off his socks, then shucked his jeans and briefs. Her gaze dropped to his jutting erection, and she licked her lips in anticipation, fueling the fire already burning within him. He moved up onto the mattress, right up behind Mia, and with his hand splayed in the middle of her back, he gently pushed her upper body down onto the bed until her head was resting on a pillow but her bottom was still raised.

Hooking his fingers in the side straps of her panties, he drew them down her thighs until they pooled around her knees. Then he leaned over her, kissed the base of her spine, then skimmed his lips higher, until he was completely covering her from behind and his face was buried in the fragrant curve of her neck. She was already panting in anticipation, wanting this. Wanting him.

Hips perfectly aligned, he slid his cock between her thighs to the silky soft lips of her sex. The head of his shaft found her opening, and with a long, driving thrust, he was exactly where he ached to be. Her fingers gripped the comforter, and she moaned and arched and pushed against him, drawing him deeper into her body, threatening his sanity and his restraint.

Refusing to give into the orgasm rising to the surface, he denied the demands of his body-not until Mia was right there with him. Reaching a hand beneath her, he stroked her in the same slow, heated rhythm as his pumping hips. Over the past few weeks he'd learned her body well. Knew just how to touch and caress her to make her unravel. Knew what she liked, what turned her on, and what made her come.

And still, she denied him.

A spark of anger flared within him. In that moment, he decided Mia could try and withhold her feelings for him and deny what was in her heart, but there was no way in hell he was going to allow her to take this away from him. He wanted her orgasm, and he wouldn't be satisfied until she finally gave herself over to him that way.

Abruptly, he pulled out of her, shocking her with the unexpected move. "I gave you what you wanted," he said with rough impatience and sat back on his heels. "Now I want you to lay down on your back for me."

She did as he asked and turned over, eyeing him warily. "You didn't come," she said, glancing down at the upward thrust of his erection.

Oh, but how he'd wanted to. He was so fucking hard he was about to burst. But he wasn't going to let her win this round tonight. She was trying to shut him out, make this impersonal when it was anything but. "I will when you do."

That said, he striped off her panties, pushed her legs wide apart, settled in between, and put his mouth on her. She sucked in a sharp, startled breath and tried to rise up, but he pressed a strong hand to her belly to hold her down. He heard her call his name in a trembling panic, felt her fingers knot in his hair to pull him away, and ignored every attempt she made to stop him.

He was relentless in his pursuit. Persistent and tireless as he licked and lapped at her, then swirled and dragged his tongue over her sensitive cleft. Again and again, until she was thrashing beneath his unyielding assault and moaning softly. Minutes could have passed, or an hour. It didn't matter and he didn't care, because he wasn't letting her go, wouldn't stop until she gave herself over to him completely.

He thrust two long fingers deep inside of her, giving her that extra, insistent, ruthless push of sensual pleasure, and it was finally enough to send her over the edge. Beneath the hand still splayed on her belly, he felt her tense. Her inner muscles clenched around his fingers, and her nails dug into his shoulders in a last attempt to resist. Then the wave broke, and she sobbed as her body convulsed with the beginning tremors of a powerful, undeniable climax.

He reared up over her, replaced his fingers with his cock, and drove deep, deep inside of her as her orgasm crested, squeezing his shaft, milking him, enveloping every hard inch of him like a tight, hot, velvet glove. With an unraveling groan, he slid his arm beneath the arch of her back and pulled her hips tighter against his. Then he slanted his mouth across hers in a fierce, devouring kiss and rode her hard and fast. It didn't take long before his own violent spasms jerked and shuddered through him.

He collapsed on top of her, his breathing ragged, his entire body spent. Beneath him, Mia didn't move, though he could feel her thundering heartbeat against his chest. Lifting his head from the damp curve of her neck, he glanced down at her, and his stomach clenched at what he saw. She'd turned her face to the side and her eyes were closed, but there was no mistaking the moisture on her cheeks.

"Don't shut me out, Mia," he said and recognized the desperation in his voice. But he feared it might be too late, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

So instead, he gathered her in his arms, gently wiped away her tears, and said nothing more because at this point, there was nothing left to say. He'd just given her everything he had, and he could only hope that in the morning light it would be enough for her to stick around and give the two of them a chance at a future together.

MIA had avoidance and denial down to an art form, Cameron thought as he closed the case file he'd been working on the following Sunday afternoon. Pushing away from his desk, he went to the large window in his home office, from which he had an unobstructed view, and glanced out toward the back patio.

Mia was still sitting out on a chaise lounge in a pair of shorts, with her bare, slender legs soaking up the warm sunshine. A few hours ago when he'd told her he had some things to do in his office, she'd taken her sketch pad outside and had been there ever since. Currently, she was drawing something on the paper that had captured her complete attention, and he assumed it was a new stained-glass design.

He released a long breath, knowing the time had come to talk to Mia about the two of them. He was going to have to initiate the conversation, because it was obvious Mia had no desire to talk about what had transpired between them last night, or discuss where their relationship was headed now that her case was over.

After keeping Mia secure in his embrace for most of the night-a huge feat considering she was so used to curling up on her own to sleep-he'd woken up alone in bed this morning and immediately thought she'd called a cab and headed home sometime in the early hours of dawn. That wouldn't have shocked him at all since he'd come to learn Mia was used to running and hiding from her feelings instead of facing them, and there was a helluva lot of emotions for the two of them to deal with after last night.

Mia hadn't run, which he'd initially seen as a positive sign, but when he'd walked into the kitchen to find her making French toast for breakfast, she'd acted as though nothing had changed. She'd been bright and cheerful and chatty as they ate, talking about everything from Carrie, to her gallery show, to inconsequential things that didn't really matter. Not when their entire relationship was at stake.

Cameron recognized her forced, light-hearted attempt at conversation for the diversion it was and decided he'd give her a bit of time and space to come to terms with her feelings for him. He'd hoped mat at some point during the day she'd come to him, but it was becoming increasingly clear that if he left it up to Mia, they would never resolve the one big issue still standing between them.

Where did they go from here?

He knew what direction he wanted to go, but he had no idea if he'd be traveling down that road with Mia or on his own. And it was time he found out.

He headed through the house and out to the back porch. As soon as he closed the sliding screen door behind him, she glanced up from her sketch pad and smiled at him. Unfortunately, since he'd come to know her so well, he could see right through her welcome pretense to the guarded reserve glimmering in the depths of her eyes.

"Hey there," he said, striving for a casual tone when he was feeling anything but.

"Hey yourself," she replied, her gaze searching his features-most likely to gauge his mood. "Is your work all done?"

"Most of it. The rest can wait." What he had to say to her couldn't. Not any longer. He dragged a chair over to where she was lounging, parked it close to the chaise, and took a seat. "You and I need to talk."

She eyed him warily, just as he'd expected. "About?"

"Our relationship," he said, getting right to the point. "Especially now that your case is over. One has ended, but the other doesn't have to."

The change in her was immediate. She set her sketch pad aside, drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around her legs, as if to safeguard her heart and emotions from what was about to happen. "I knew this was coming, and I've thought a lot about you and I and where we go from here."

"And?" He was curious to hear what conclusions she'd drawn about them.

She exhaled a deep breath. "And I think this is it for us," she said, trying to put on a brave front.

"This is it," he repeated flatly, unable to believe she could dismiss the past few weeks they'd spent together so frivously.

"We agreed on a temporary affair for a reason, Cameron," she said, much too pragmatically. "While the sex between us is fantastic and amazing, when it comes down to you and me on a long-term one-on-one basis, we're two very different, incompatible people."

Leaning forward in his chair, he clasped his hands between his knees and pinned her with a direct and unwavering look. One she couldn't escape. "Different and incompatible how?"

Her lips pursed with impatience. "You're going to make me spell it all out, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," he persisted, refusing to let her out of this discussion so easily.

With an irritable sigh, she stood up and paced across the patio, putting a decent amount of physical distance between them before she turned around and spoke. "There's a good reason why we never hooked up before I came to you for help a few weeks ago, and that reason hasn't changed just because we've slept together. I'm stubborn, unpredictable, and too reckless, remember? And you're Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected. The two just don't mix."

Luckily, that was an argument he'd anticipated. "Seems to me we'd balance each other out pretty damn well. I'd keep you level-headed, and you'd make sure I didn't revert to being uptight and stuffy." He said the last part jokingly, but she didn't seem in a humorous mood.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I distinctly remember you saying that I was all wrong for you, and in a lot of ways, we both know that's true."

"That was before I really got to know you, inside." He stood and approached her but still gave her the space she seemed to need. "During our time together I changed my mind. You changed my mind."

"For the moment, yes," she said, her exasperated attitude disguising deeper insecurities she refused to face. "But in the long run, we'd drive each other crazy. We spent the past two years annoying the hell out of one another, and once this 'new relationship' glow fades and the thrill is gone, all those annoyances are going to creep right back up and be glaring issues between us."

Her expression turned imploring, as if she was silently pleading with him to understand. "It's happened to me before, in other relationships, Cameron. You're going to want me to change. Be something or someone I'm not. And I just don't know if I can be the kind of woman you need in your life. Someone stable and grounded and refined. And in the end, you'll come to resent me and the relationship."

He heard the catch in her voice and saw those familiar, lifetime fears she was desperately fighting against. What she didn't realize, or wasn't ready to admit or deal with, was that she'd already changed in the course of their short relationship-all in good, positive ways that made her a stronger, better person. But she had to come to see and accept those changes in herself.

He formed his response carefully but firmly. "If you honestly think I'd ever resent who and what you are, then you don't know me very well at all."

She shook her head in frustration, causing her silky black hair to swirl around her shoulders. "Come on, Cameron, let's at least be honest with each other about all this, okay?"

His jaw clenched, because his own patience was quickly reaching its limit. She wanted honest? Well, she was about to get more than she'd bargained for, because he was going to lay everything on the line. He figured he had nothing left to lose at this point.

"Listen up, sweetheart, because I'm about to prove to you just how well I know you," he said and started toward her slowly but purposefully.

Apparently, he was getting too close for her comfort zone, physically and emotionally, and when she attempted to dodge around him, he was faster. He stepped to the side, trapping her up against the side of the house. Before she could bolt again, he flattened his palms on either side of her shoulders, keeping her within the confines of his arms.

"Dammit, quit running from me," he growled furiously. "From us."

Her chin jutted out mutinously, but her gray eyes were wider than normal. "I'm not running from anything," she shot back.

"That's bullshit, and we both know it." He hoped like hell she was able to handle the honesty he was about to dish out in abundance. "You've spent your adult life avoiding intimacy with a man, especially when you start feeling threatened emotionally, and that's exactly where you are with me. I threaten you emotionally, and that scares the crap out of you. You don't want to deal with those feelings, and so it's easier for you to cut loose and run than risk being hurt. The same kind of hurt and pain you've lived with since your mother's death."

She rolled her eyes at him in an attempt to dismiss his words, no matter how true they were. "There you go again, sugar," she drawled. "Psychoanalyzing me."

"It's what I do best." And there was a helluva lot more where that came from. "I know just how vulnerable you are, even though you want everyone to believe you're tough and strong and don't need anyone at all," he went on ruthlessly. "I know you hate the way your brothers and cousins smother and protect you, even though you know they do it because they love and care about you. I know how badly you crave your family's approval, of who you are and what you do. And I know just how talented you are and how those erotic pictures you create in your stained-glass designs are all a part of the sensual woman you are, inside and out. A woman with a romantic soul who is searching for an unconditional kind of love and acceptance."

She drew a trembling breath, and her eyes shone with telltale moisture. "You have no idea what you're talking about," she whispered hoarsely, desperation evident in her tone.

He pressed two fingers to her soft, damp lips to keep her quiet. Lips he ached to kiss in the worst way. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm talking about, and I'm not done yet," he said, locking his gaze with hers. "I agree that our affair started out as all about sex and getting you out of my system after wanting you for two years. And what we shared sexually has been hotter and more erotic than anything I've ever had with another woman."

He let his hand fall away. "But I'm a man who sees more than just what's on the outside, and over the past few weeks I've discovered a side to you I don't think any other man has ever taken the time to learn or know. And for you to let me in so intimately, you have to feel something for me, too."

She closed her eyes and tried to turn her face away, but he gently touched her jaw and waited until she was looking at him again. But this time, when her lashes fluttered back open, there were tears in her eyes. And a wealth of feeling. Her entire body trembled with the emotion she was trying so hard to suppress, and he suspected that was a very instinctual reaction for her.

"You can hide behind your erotic stained-glass art and your wild and outrageous personality, but I know who you really are, Mia," he said softly. "Deep inside where it counts. In your heart. In your beautiful, lost soul. And that's the woman I fell for. The woman no one else knows as well as I do."

She blinked, and a big, fat tear fell down her cheek. "God, how can you want a woman with so many hang-ups and issues?"

"Because I love you," he said simply.

A panicked sob caught in her throat, and she shook her head in denial. "You can't!"

"I can, and I do. It certainly wasn't something I'd planned on, but it happened. I want to love you, Mia, like you've never been loved before." He gently wiped away yet another tear with the pad of his thumb. "You trusted me with your body, and I gave you nothing but pleasure. You trusted me with your past and secrets, now trust me with your heart, and I swear I'll keep it safe from the kind of hurt and pain you're so afraid of."

"You can't make those kinds of promises, Cameron. No one can. I know you believe in this moment you can give me those things, that the two of us can make it work, but I can't handle a broken heart if it doesn't. I know what that feels like, and the emotional pain of losing someone is something I can't bear to go through ever again."

He knew she was referring to her mother's death, which had scarred her deeply and affected so many relationships throughout her life. Men, definitely, but shutting people out of her heart had all started with her stepmother, Amelia. And that was a situation Cameron couldn't repair for Mia, even though he suspected that scarred relationship was the crux of most of her emotional issues.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Cameron understood that she was frightened of what she was feeling for him, but he'd hoped that during the course of their conversation today she'd face those fears and take a chance on something genuine and real. Him. Them. Together.

He'd been sorely mistaken. Her rejection felt like a knife through his heart.

Admitting defeat, he pushed away from Mia, letting her go. There was nothing left for him to do. Nothing left for him to say. She'd made it very clear that it was over, and he wasn't going to beg and plead.

"Come on," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'll take you home."