Fighting the Fall (Fighting, #4)

I want to give that to him, be that for him.

My hands fist into his hair, pushing myself up while pulling him deeper into me. Legs turn to jelly, and I force myself to stay upright and pray he doesn’t let me fall. He bites my lower lip and a gasp slides from my throat.

That was a side of Cameron I’ve never seen. The way he spoke to D’lilah was vicious and unrelenting. I don’t know what happened between them, but abandoning a five-year-old boy in favor of alcohol is enough to make anyone angry. I still can’t help but feel sorry for her.

“What she said about you,” he says against my mouth and runs his teeth along my jaw to my neck. “Don’t let that in.”

“But she’s right.” I tilt my head while he drags his stubbled chin from my earlobe to my shoulder. “I look like her. You must’ve realized it on some level before now.”

“I didn’t.” He nips at the tender flesh near my collarbone. “You’re nothing like her.”

“Our looks, neediness . . .” I groan and hate what has to be said. “God, Cameron, you probably picked me because I’m her.”

His fingers dig into my skin. “You’re not her.”

“No, I’m like the drag-queen version of her.”

His lips still against my neck.

“You know, pretty enough, but missing the most important parts.”

He pulls back, his lips twitching. “You got all the important parts, doll. Tasted every single one of ’em.”

I sigh heavily. “Not those parts, just the knockout parts. She’s tall with long legs and a striking smile. She’s a fucking supermodel for crying out loud.” I shrug. “I’m average height, curvy, and normal.”

“Nothin’ about you is normal, Yvette. And you’re ten times the knockout D’lilah ever was.” He dips to press a kiss to my forehead. “Perfect height so I get the sweet smell of your hair without even trying.” His fingers flex into my bottom. “Fuckin’ curves to fill my hands and mouth; my dick gets hard just thinking about ’em.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m at work, have the taste of you on my tongue from the morning, thinking about that ass pressed against me.” He sucks in a breath. “It’s like puberty all over again.”

A giggle burst from my lips, and I drop my forehead to his chest.

“Tell me you’re okay with all that shit that went down.” His strong hand sifts through my hair. “I’m happy to lock you in this room until I’m convinced you’re good about us.”

Us. My heart jumps. Will I ever get used to hearing that?

“Is D’lilah good with us?” I trace his hairline to his strong, corded neck.

“Don’t give a shit.”

It’s a sweet answer, but it’s also an obvious lie. Whatever dynamic there is between D’lilah and Cameron, it’s fragile. And he cares.

Compassion saddles my panic. As badly as I feel for Cameron’s ex, I don’t want her causing problems for us. Our age difference causes enough strain, and adding a volatile ex-wife could seal our fate. For whatever reason, he feels he needs to take care of her. He’d said that night at the Fourth of July party that he owed her.

So what I need to figure out is if it came down to him choosing between D’lilah and me, whom would he pick?

*

Cameron

I’m loading the dishwasher after another one of Eve’s gut-busting breakfasts when Ryder drags his Doc Martin clad feet into the kitchen. After he escorted D’lilah to her car, he must’ve taken a shower and gotten ready to go out for the day.

“How’d it go with your mom?”

He hops up to sit on the counter. “As you’d expect—crying, apologizing, explaining how unhealthy it is for you to date a woman my age.”

“I’m sorry, Ry. Last night from me and this morning from your mom, bet you’re getting sick of everyone accusing you of shit you didn’t do, huh?”

“I should’ve expected it with Mom. Fourth of July when I took her home, she kept talking about how Eve was such a sweet girl. I didn’t put it together. Makes sense now.”

I shake my head, shocked at how quickly I assumed the worst and jumped all over Ry’s shit. “No excuse for that.”

“I get it Dad. Eve’s four years older than me, and in less than a week, she’ll be three years older than me. That’s gotta mess with your head. Mess with anyone’s head. Mom’s going off the rails because my birthday’s coming up—”

“Eve’s young. Her age was a concern in the beginning, but when I’m with her, I forget.”

A slow grin pulls at his lips. “I bet you do.”

“Ry.”

He holds up his hands. “Just an observation. She’s not hard on the eyes; that’s all I’m sayin’.”

“You finished.” Fuckin’ insane shit that the woman I’m dating is also datable to my kid. I lean to look behind him toward the living room to make sure we’re alone. “You know I haven’t talked to Eve yet about Rosie.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “This thing between you two serious?”

“Not really.” Or is it? “I mean I don’t know yet.”

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