Never Bargain with the Boss (Never Say Never Book 5)
Never Bargain with the Boss: Chapter 29

Today has sucked. Like more than a Dyson holding up a bowling ball level of suckage.

I’ve mostly stayed in bed, staring at my phone and disassociating. At some point, I’ll have to make some decisions about what’s next for me, but today, I’m letting myself wallow in sadness.

Tomorrow, I’ll open myself up to Fate and see where she leads me.

So of course, that bitch says, ‘Heard. Check this out,’ and leads me wherever the hell she wants to, because that’s when there’s a knock at the door.

I freeze, eyes looking left and right like the answer of who’s at the door might be in the room with me. Of course, it’s not. I didn’t order food for dinner, I already paid for the night so it shouldn’t be hotel staff, and the Harrington crew already said their piece.

I climb out of the nest I’ve made myself on the bed and look out the peephole. Instantly, I start trying to fix my mess of hair, swiping under my eyes to get the dried tear-crusties off, and straightening the nightgown I never bothered to get out of. Because Cameron is here.

I look through the peephole again like he might’ve been a mirage, but he’s still there. He looks good, in his work suit, his hair perfectly styled, a five o’clock shadow appearing on his jaw, but his eyes are haunted as he stares at the door between us. Like Kayla, he knows I’m here and peeping out at him, but the truth is, there’s a lot more than two inches of wood-veneer separating us now. There’s a chasm of hurt and betrayal.

Even so, I open the door. I can’t not open for him when I love him despite everything.

“Cameron? What are you doing here?” I’m still fidgeting in a pointless effort to make myself look presentable and slightly less like a feral fairy, but it’s a losing battle.

“Riley, can we talk? Please?” He looks uncertain whether I’m going to say yes, but of course, I’m going to let him in. I step back, giving him space to come inside.

He looks around the hotel room, seeing the disarrayed pile of sheets and blankets on the bed I’ve been sleeping in and the neatly folded stacks of clothes on the other bed. After Janey, Kayla, and Miranda left yesterday, folding clothes had been my busy work, keeping my hands moving while my mind raced. Now that it’s all tidy, I think everything will fit in my usual suitcase and duffle bag combo, and I won’t need an additional bag, much less a trash bag. It also seems like a metaphor for me and Cameron at the moment—me, a complete mess, and him, all organized and neat. At least on the outside. Inside, I think we’re both pretty fucked up.

He starts pacing back and forth in the small space, so to give him room, I crawl up onto the bed and sit with my legs crisscrossed, watching him get more and more riled up.

“I don’t know where to start,” he says, walking toward me. He spins, marching back to the window that overlooks the parking lot. There, he turns again, coming back toward me. The room isn’t large and he can cross it in fewer than ten of his long-legged strides, so I hope he’s not prone to dizziness or else he’s going down after a few back and forth laps. “I’ve been thinking about it the whole way here, what I’d say, what I could do, how I could fix this.” He shakes his head like his thoughts are rattling around in his head and he’s trying to get them to cooperate well enough to get in an ordered line.

Fix this?

The words make my heart start pitter-pattering in my chest. He wants to fix this? But I try to temper any hopeful excitement trying to build with a dose of reality. This is no abracadabra, wave a wand repair.

“Just start talking,” I suggest. “What you want to say will come out.”

He frowns like that’s a crazy idea, but with a ‘here goes nothing’ shrug, he starts, letting it all flow. “First, I am so sorry. I panicked. I was so scared. You didn’t hear Grace on the phone. Her voice was…” He takes a jagged breath. “And I know you were scared too and doing everything you could to keep her safe. Thank you for that. Thank you so much.”

He looks at me with gratefulness in his gaze, and I have no doubt he means it. But deep down, he still blames me for Grace needing protection in the first place. In his methodical mind, I can see the equation… if no Riley, then no Austin, and therefore, an absolute zero threat. I’m not a numbers person like he is, and even I think that’s logical.

So I put it out there, taking my own advice and saying what comes to mind. “I shouldn’t have had to protect her. It was my fault she was in danger in the first place.” Guilt weighs down every word, and they land between us heavily, making the air thick.

“No,” he says firmly. “Bad things happen. Someone pretty smart told me that and said someone even smarter taught her that.” He looks at me pointedly, and I know he’s talking about Grace and me. “The only person to blame for what Austin did is Austin. It just as easily could’ve been some random person or someone we know. Hell, when Samantha got kidnapped, it was a guy she was helping.”

“When Samantha what?” I exclaim. I haven’t heard that story. I’m not sure I want to hear it, but if Cameron’s family has been through that, it only adds another layer to his fear and his reaction.

“That’s her story to tell, but the point is, it’s not your fault and I was wrong to blame you. I’m sorry.”

I’ll still always blame myself to some degree, but his words do relieve some of the guilt, which I appreciate. “Okay,” I say, accepting his apology. Maybe I’m too easy, but I understand that in the heat of the moment, with fear riding him hard, he lashed out. And there’s no point in being hard-nosed about that when it’s the least of our problems. Because nothing else has changed. Grace is still his priority, and that will never, and should never, change. “Thank you for coming to tell me that,” I tell him, starting to stand up and planning to walk him to the door.

He plants his feet. “I’m not done.”

I freeze. “What? I thought…” I stare at him in confusion. I thought he was coming to apologize and would leave now that he has. I need him to go before I start crying again because seeing him hurts too much.

“Riley, I…” He stops, his mouth open like the words are lodged in his throat.

“Just talk,” I remind him, sounding a little too desperate, but I can’t help it. Anything that keeps him here longer is what I want.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and never let go. When you went upstairs to pack, I wanted to chase you and hold you down so you’d stay. There was so much I wanted to say, needed to say, but I couldn’t. I felt so… stuck, and so I stayed silent because I didn’t trust myself. If I said anything, it would’ve been that I love you and didn’t want you to go.”

He’s pacing again, the words tumbling out of his mouth hard and fast like he couldn’t stop them if he wanted to.

“You what?” I heard him. But it’s the first time he’s said it, and I want to hear it again. I want to hear over and over again, as many times as I can. Maybe that makes me sound greedy, but the truth is, I haven’t had anyone say those words to me and actually mean it since I was five years old, so it’s not greed. It’s more like need.

He stops, his blue eyes locked on mine. I can see the past haunting him, but more so, I see this moment right here scaring the shit out of him. “I love you. And I’m really bad at love. Especially like this.” He waves a hand between us.

“Like what?” I ask, not understanding.

He swallows hard. “I loved Michelle. Maybe I still do? She was my everything and she gave me Grace. But we were kids promising forever with no concept of what it meant. And we should’ve gotten all those days together, but we didn’t. And when she died, I died too. Until you.” His gaze drops over me, but rather than the judgment I felt when we first met, I feel the worship from when he made love to me. “You, with your ridiculous pink hair and bracelets that amuse me endlessly, your damaged heart that you still manage to keep wide open without reservation, your brilliant smile that makes me feel hope for the first time. You, and quiet nights on the porch drinking tea that I hate just to spend time with you, silly outings to places I would never go so I could know you better, and crazy ideas like what if we could have a forever of our own? You brought me back to life and made me feel again. And I hate it.” He huffs out an ironic laugh, shaking his head. “And I love it at the same time.”

I don’t know what to say to all of that, and the stupidest thing pops out of my mouth. “You hate tea?” He ignores that, thankfully.

“I’m not the same man I was when I made those promises to Michelle. I’m broken and scarred, and I didn’t bother to heal right from it because I never thought I’d love anyone again, so I’m going to fuck up sometimes. Hopefully, not this badly,” he admits, looking sheepish as he scrubs a hand over his jaw. “But I want a forever with you, or however long we get. I want all my days and all my nights to be with you, whether there’s only one or a million.”

Everything he’s saying is like music to my ears. Every dream I’ve ever had of love, belonging, and acceptance is woven through his words. But there’s one important thing he’s missing.

The most important thing.

“What about Grace?” I say quietly. Because while she is Cameron’s priority, she is also mine. I would never do anything that would hurt her heart.

He gives me a small, one-sided smile. “About that…” he says, before telling me about Grace scheming to get us together, plotting ways to get us alone with one another, and pushing us together so discretely that we never noticed. “All this time we thought we were being sneaky, she was the true mastermind.”

“That tricky devil!” I giggle, my grin saying it’s a compliment and not at all an insult. Cameron grins back, agreeing. “So, she’s okay with us?” I like the sound of ‘us’ already.

“The instruction she gave me was to ‘bring Riley home’, and I intend to do just that.”

“She is so spoiled,” I tease, knowing that if Grace told him to bring her a puppy, he’d probably do that too. But I’m definitely seeing the good side of her getting her way right now, because it’s what I want too.

“Pretty sure I’m wrapped around her finger,” he tells me, holding up his pinky. He holds up the other one with an unbothered smirk, adding, “And around yours too.”

I stare at his hand, the tanned length of his fingers, especially the one where his wedding band used to be. There’s no line, no markings that he ever wore that ring, but the promises he made are still written on his heart. And if I go home with him, there will always be another woman in our relationship. A ghost of his past.

But I don’t resent his past any more than I do my own. It’s what has made us who we are and gotten us to where we are—here, right now. Neither of us is perfect, neither of us is easy, and both of us have more trauma than any one person should have to carry.

But I think we can do it. I think together, we can do anything, including healing each other. After all, we’ve healed from worse than this before, and we did that alone.

And all the while, we can create a lifetime full of moments, stacking them up as we make the most of every second we have.

So, with a vow to accept his love for Michelle, his priority of Grace, and the depth of his feelings for me as all important parts of who he is, I wrap my pinky around his. Surprised, he winds his back and we stay like that for a second, our eyes locked on each other.

“I love you, Riley,” he whispers. “It scares the shit out of me, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I would risk everything for you.”

“I love you too. And I would never ask you to risk a thing for me.”

He pulls my hand toward his mouth, but pauses, his eyes lifted to mine. “That’s why I would.” And then he presses a kiss to the back of my hand. I can feel the promises he’s making as his lips leave an invisible mark on my skin.

Cameron

I can’t believe I almost ruined this. But I’m so glad that Riley has a forgiving heart and an understanding mind. I didn’t fix this. Riley did, just by being herself.

Keeping ahold of her hand, I bring it to my chest, wanting her to feel my pounding heart. It beats for her now.

Slowly, I bend forward, wanting to seal this promise we’ve made with a kiss. I want to seal it with more, but I’ll start with a kiss. She lifts her chin, her eyes searching mine, but she’ll find no doubt, no hesitation. All obstacles holding me back have been smashed through and lay in ruins around us, and there’s only endless possibilities now.

When our lips meet, I feel Riley sigh into me, like she’s finally trusting me enough to fully relax into what we could be. I hate that I hurt her, and I will press promises into every inch of her body, each one a vow that she will never have reason to doubt my love for her again. I will work to be worthy of her every day for the rest of my life, to make her feel safe and secure in me, to know that she has a home in my arms and that she lives in my heart.

I cup her jaw, letting the tips of my fingers tease into her hair, and claim her mouth more fully. I press kisses over to her ear and tease the lobe with my teeth, then work my way down her neck. When my progress is halted by her nightgown, I reach down and gather the fabric into my hands. I meet her eyes for a moment, see her lips tilt up at the corners, then pull it over her head, leaving her in her panties.

She is so fucking gorgeous. Even without all the adornments that I enjoy so much—her jewelry, the occasional glasses, the colorful hair—just her alone, in nothing but her skin, is beauty personified. With how she’s sitting, her hips seem whiplash worthy and her waist begs for my hands, but it’s her tits that call to me, the nipples already pearled up and hard, inviting my touch. I let my finger drift down her sternum, feeling her arch for more.

I take both nipples at the same time, one with my mouth and the other with my hand, and feel Riley’s arms wrap around me, holding me to her. But I’m not going anywhere, and neither is she. Never again.

I switch sides, licking a circle around her other nipple and then sucking it hard and deep into my mouth. Her entire breast is so small, I could probably engulf the whole thing at once and with that in mind, I suck her even harder. I nip at the sensitive tips of her breasts, wanting them to remember I was here with an achy, pleasurable pain, and then I push her back on the bed.

This bed she’s cried in, I will fill with bliss. I will make her come so many times that she only has those memories of this place. I keep my eyes on her, watching as she wiggles out of her panties while I take my jacket and then my shirt off. I push off my shoes and socks but leave my slacks in place. I need that barrier or I’m going to simply bury myself in her.

We’ll get to that, but I have penance to pay. Not that she demands it, but I want to give it.

I lay over her, our chests pressed together, and her silky soft skin on mine feels like heaven. I resume my previous plan of kissing every inch of her body, starting by pressing my lips to her fingertips, one by one. Up her hand, to the tripping pulse at her wrist, and then the inside of her elbow where she giggles, ever so slightly ticklish there. I pin her hands to the bed, silently commanding her to let me apologize this way. She doesn’t fight me at all, grabbing the sheets in her fists and holding herself in place too.

Another kiss on the outside of her shoulder, in the hollow of her collarbone, and the center of her sternum, and then I lay my cheek to her chest, listening to her heartbeat. The thud sounds like life. Hers. Mine. Ours.

More kisses across her ribs and down her side, to her hip. I press my lips to her mound, well above her clit, and she hollows her stomach, tilting her hips toward my mouth for more like the greedy girl I know she can be. That I want her to be, but only for me.

Always, forever, only for me.

I push her legs apart with my shoulders, opening her pretty pussy to my gaze. A surge of masculine pride sweeps through me, knowing that all the wetness visible at her core is for me. Every cell in my body wants her sweetness, but I punish us both by denying the taste I desperately want. Instead, I lick and kiss and nibble my way up one trembling thigh and then the other until she’s squirming, her hands starting to fight my hold.

“Do you forgive me?” I murmur against her skin, licking the sensitive seam where her thigh meets her body.

A shudder goes through her and she moans, “Uh-huh.”

“Do you understand how much I love you?” I lick the same line on the other side.

“Uh-huh.”

She’s starting to writhe in my grip, and more than her losing control, which I would welcome and relish, I fear I’m about to break through every restraint I have on myself. “Look at me.”

I’m between her thighs, her legs over my shoulders and my hands holding hers to the bed while I give orders. By all appearances, I am the one in a power position here. But she is absolutely in charge. Especially when she lifts her head from the bed and looks down her body at me.

“I love you, Riley.” And with our eyes still locked, I lick through her wet entrance with the flat of my tongue. She tries to watch, I can tell she does, but the overwhelming pleasure has her eyes rolling back and her head flopping to the bed.

She groans my name, long and low in her chest, and it’s answer enough for whether she believes me… trusts me… loves me too.

Finally, I have my favorite taste—Riley’s pussy—on my tongue again. I devour her, burying my nose against her mound and rubbing my mouth across her whole center. I want to be coated in her cream, marked by her arousal, and claimed as hers. I work her hard, taking her to the edge and then backing off, over and over, until she’s pleading with me to please let her come.

With a growl, I renew my efforts once again, sucking her clit into my mouth and battering my tongue over the sensitive nub to take her to the highest high. “Do it. Come all over me so I can drink you down,” I rumble against her, not willing to let there be any space between us for something as unimportant as words.

Her breath hitches, and I can feel her whole body on the precipice of shattering. I hold back my triumphant grin in favor of sucking her even harder. And I’m rewarded when she shatters. Her body spasms, waves racking through her one after another, and her thighs clamp onto either side of my head, muffling the outside world until my only thought is of her. I let her ride it out, and only when I feel the tremors start to slow do I release her hands.

It’s not to pull my cock out, though. It’s to slide two fingers into her still pulsating pussy. I push on her belly, down low, and pet the spot inside her that she loves. She thrashes against me, whining, “Too much, too soon.”

I don’t stop because even as she says it, her body is chasing me for more, her pussy clamping onto my fingers to keep me inside her. “Go again for me. I want you messy with cum so I can fuck you hard, baby. I need to fuck you hard.”

I wish I could say that I want to make love to her gently and sweetly. But I don’t. I want to imprint myself onto Riley’s soul as deep and rough as she can handle. It’s primitive, and probably wrong, but it’s what I want.

“Fuck, Cameron. Do it, please.”

Wrong or right, it’s what Riley wants too.

Still, I keep finger fucking her, and even though she’s covered in her arousal, I spit on her clit and use the saliva to slip my thumb over the nub too. That does it, and she finds heaven again. I do my best to ride it out for her, but I think she’s still quivering when I rip my slacks open and shove them down my thighs. To take them off, I’d have to stand up from the bed, and there’s no time for that. I need to be inside her right now.

I position myself at her entrance, and her eyes lift to mine. She blinks like she’s trying to clear her vision, and then I see her… my Riley. She’s in there, behind the haze of bliss, with her love shining back at me.

“I love you,” I grit out as I thrust into her. It’s the last attempt at tenderness I have.

Fuck, how is she so wet and tight at the same time? Her walls grip me so well that I swear I could come just soaking in her. But I pound into her again and again, and her legs wrap around my waist as her arms go around my shoulders like she’s holding on for a wild ride even as I try to slow us down.

I swipe my fingers through the point where we’re connected. “Love this pussy.”

“It’s yours,” she gasps, panting as I fuck her. She even takes my finger alongside my thick cock, hissing at the delicious stretch. I give her a few strokes like that, both of us groaning at the added sensation.

When I pull my finger from her pussy, I tease it over her lips, painting them with her juices. “Love this mouth.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time you’re wishing I’d shut up,” she pants, her tongue slipping out to lick my fingertip.

“Never,” I vow, kissing her quickly and tasting her pussy on her lips.

“Love this heart.” I press deep inside her and pause, my balls against her ass, to lay a kiss to her chest.

“It’s yours too,” she cries out. Even the small moment of stillness has her hips bucking wildly, chasing me, chasing her pleasure. “Cameron, please.”

I unwind her legs from around me and press them back so that her knees are toward her shoulders, effectively folding her in half, which opens her even more for me. Her hands are everywhere, roaming my body like she can’t find a place to get a grip, but she doesn’t need to hold on. Because she’s mine, trapped with my hands at the backs of her knees, putting her at my mercy.

Except I have none. For either of us.

Two broken, fucked up people who found love in the most unexpected of places at the least appropriate time but succumbed to its power despite all odds.

I reward us both for being brave enough to take this chance at happiness by driving into her willing body recklessly, roughly fucking her deep and fast until we’re nothing but pleasure seeking a release.

I think I chant her name, or maybe just nonsense sounds. I can’t be sure because my pulse is roaring in my ears so loudly that it’s all I can hear. Until Riley lets out a high-pitched cry of surrender as she comes. That I hear, and I let it anchor me to this moment.

The moment our true after begins.