Down on My Knees Read online

Page 9


  “So you can skip out on me again? I don’t think so. Get dressed, and we’re going somewhere we can talk without interruption.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I start to argue, but we both know it would probably happen. “Okay, just give me a minute.” Grabbing the bag, I hurry into the bathroom, his chuckle following behind me.

  “I think I saw it all last night. No point in hiding it now,” he says to my retreating form. My only answer is to shut the bathroom door.

  Cruising down the road in Isaac’s SUV, I have to wonder where he’s taking me. Pulling up outside a diner in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly what I expected. The bell above the glass door rings as Isaac ushers me through, the smell of bacon making my mouth water. An elderly lady looks up from wiping down the counter and tells us to take a seat wherever.

  Isaac leads me to a booth on the corner. The red vinyl squeaks as I slide across, and I grimace as my skin sticks to the material. Guess I should have worn pants.

  After the waitress takes our orders, Isaac levels me with a look.

  “What’s going on? Why did you try to sneak out this morning?” he asks before taking a sip of coffee.

  “I didn’t try to sneak out.”

  “What do you call it when you crawl across the floor to the door then?” he asks with a smirk as my face flushes.

  “You saw that, huh?” I wince.

  “Your ass looked good from that angle,” he replies with a wink. “We said we’d be honest from the start, Camryn. Don’t try to back out now.”

  “Okay, jeez, I was embarrassed,” I say before putting my head in my hands.

  “Why were you embarrassed?” He frowns.

  “Because you turned me down the night before, then I woke up in bed with you,” I state, staring down into my cup of coffee.

  “Oh, Red. I didn’t take you up on your offer because you were as drunk as a skunk. I wanted you to actually be able to remember our time together. It wasn’t because I didn’t want you.”

  “The last thing I remember clearly is going to bed. Alone. How did I end up in bed with you?”

  “Well…you see…” he starts, then stops as the waitress delivers our food. “As I was saying, I had a really erotic dream about a sexy redhead having her way with me,” he says with a sexy grin. “Then, low and behold, it wasn’t a dream.” The grin drops from his face and his green eyes grow dark. “I tried to get you to stop because I was afraid you didn’t know what you were doing. But you begged me not to. And being the bastard I am, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I took advantage of you,” I say as I realize with disgust. “Oh my god, Isaac. I am so sorry.” Tears fill my eyes. What the hell have I done?

  Seeing my distress, Isaac leaves his side of the booth before crowding me in mine. His beefy arms wrap around me, pulling me to his chest, one hand rubbing up and down my back.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, or anything I didn’t want you to do,” he whispers as I sob against his chest, the implications of what I did pouring through me. “God, baby, stop. You’re breaking my heart.”

  My sobs begin to slow, finally tapering off into little hiccups.

  “You okay now?”

  I nod my head against his chest, not ready to look at him and see the disappointment in his green eyes.

  “Look, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” he murmurs against my hair, stirring the strands.

  A squeak of rubber on the linoleum catches my attention, letting me know we are not alone.

  “Can I get y’all anything?” the soft, feminine voice asks, concern lacing her tone.

  “Could you box this up for us and get a couple coffees to go? Please?”

  “Of course. Give me just a second and I’ll get you fixed up.” The heavy plates drag across the table as she gathers them up.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  “I told you…”

  “I mean for breaking down in here. God, this is embarrassing.” I give a watery chuckle. “Making a scene like this.”

  “You haven’t made a scene. No one is even looking this way. The waitress didn’t even notice until she was at the table.”

  “Can you grab me a napkin or something?” His body shifts against me as he reaches across the table. The stiff paper is scratchy as I wipe my eyes and nose. Gazing at his shirt, I give a small blessing that I didn’t get snot on his shirt. That would have been icing on the cake. Leaning back, I finally look into his eyes and give him a small smile. Before I can blink, his lips are caressing mine.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “I’m a mess,” I chuckle, knowing my eyes are bloodshot and my nose is beet red.

  “I don’t care.”

  The rustling of plastic alerts us to the return of the waitress with our food.

  “All right, y’all are all set,” she says a little too cheerfully as she places the white bag on the table along with two Styrofoam cups. I give her a smile as she slips the paper ticket on the table before walking away.

  “Okay, Red, let’s head to your place,” he says as he slides to the end of the seat. Pulling the wallet from his pocket, he throws down a few bills.

  “Why not your place?” I ask as I stand, picking up my cup, the warmth radiating into my palm. He laughs as he picks up his cup and the bag of food.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for you to see how much of a slob I am.”

  “Oh lord. I don’t think I’m ready for that either.”

  Sitting at my table, we eat our lukewarm breakfast.

  “What do you remember about last night?” he asks around a mouthful of eggs.

  “Not a whole lot. Just bits and pieces really.” I stab my fork into the now rubbery eggs.

  He looks at me with his head cocked to the side. “What do you remember about New Year’s Eve?”

  “I remember going to the bar with Sarah to see Keith. And drinking. A lot of drinking. I danced with some guys. With you. You took me home and…uh, wehadsex,” I press out quickly before shoving the forkful of eggs into my mouth.

  “We had sex, huh?” Pointing the fork at me, he responds, “What if I told you we didn’t?”

  “Pardon?”

  “We. Did. Not. Have. Sex. That. Night.” He enunciates each word as if to make his point very clear.

  “But…I woke up in your shirt.”

  “You were also drunk off your ass. I’m not saying I was a saint, but we didn’t have sex.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

  “We made out in the hall before I carried you to bed. Then I stripped you down. All the way down.” He gets a far-off look in his eyes as they glaze over with lust. “That’s when the sinner in me broke free.”

  “But we didn’t have sex?”

  “No, my dick did not become acquainted with your pretty pussy. My tongue and fingers are a whole different story.” He winks, and a devilish grin spreads across his face. As my cheeks heat, his smile gets bigger. “I can still taste you on my lips. All sweet candy syrup.”

  “Jesus, Isaac! Really?” I bury my face in my hands.

  The wooden chair scoots across the tile as he stands up and comes to a stop behind me. As he leans down, his warm breath fans across the back of my neck and goosebumps break out over my arms as my nipples tighten.

  “I think about that night all the time. How sweetly you came on my tongue. Nibbling on that little clit. Making you squirm. Your tight, hot pussy squeezing my finger, and me wishing it was my dick buried deep inside you.” With each word whispered against my skin, my core clenches, dampening my panties. At this rate, they’ll be drenched in no time. When he places a soft, wet kiss on my neck, I melt.

  “Isaac,” I moan out.

  “You want me, Red?” His breath caresses the shell of my ear before his teeth close on the tender lobe.

  “Yes,” I breathe out. Reaching up,
I grab what I can of his short hair, holding him to me.

  “You’ll remember this time, Camryn. Every kiss.” He places a soft, wet kiss on the side of my neck. “Every touch.” His rough hand skims my arm. “Every swipe of my tongue on your skin.” The warm wetness traces from my neck to shoulder. “My dick stretching you wide. The sound of our skin slapping together as I pound inside you. Our bodies pressed together so you can’t tell where you end and I begin.” His hand travels down my breast with a light squeeze, over my abdomen, until he’s cupping me through my cotton shorts. One finger traces my cloth-covered slit, but I can feel it all. I let out a small whimper.

  “Would you like that, Red?” When I nod, his other hand wraps around my hair and pulls back, arching my neck as he lips devour mine.

  The peeling of the doorbell breaks us apart, my lips mourning the loss of his.

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer, unable to tear my gaze from his.

  “Camryn, open the damn door! I know you’re in there. We have plans to shop, woman, and you will not deprive me of that!” Sarah yells through the door.

  “If we ignore her, will she go away?” Isaac asks, his voice full of hope.

  “Not a chance in hell.” I smile up at him. “I forgot I told her I’d go today.”

  “I’ll take a raincheck then,” he says before giving me a quick kiss.

  “But—”

  “We have all the time in the world. We don’t have to rush this.”

  “Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner.”

  “Hurry up and open the damn door!”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he says with a smile. “I’ll let her in while you go get ready. See you tonight. Around seven?”

  “Seven’s good.”

  “You two stay out of trouble.”

  “I’m not the one you need to worry about,” I respond, shaking my head. He laughs as he walks to the front door to let my impatient friend inside.

  Camryn

  Placing our bags down, Sarah and I sit at a small aluminum table in the mall food court, the chatter of teenagers unable to drown out the grating sound of the cheap chairs scraping across the linoleum. I open the container in front of me. The smell of grilled chicken wafts out, and my mouth waters. Shopping is hard work, especially with Sarah, the shopping dynamo.

  “All right, sugar, spill. What’s up with you and hunka-hunka-burning-love? You gonna give him a chance?” Sarah waggles her eyebrows with a sassy little grin on her face.

  Sipping on my drink, I glance over the railing, my eyes focused on the people milling about while I contemplate her question. Am I ready to put my heart on the line and take that chance? Just the thought gives me palpitations.

  “Camryn?” Sarah whisper-yells, snapping her fingers at me to get my attention. “Hey, are you paying attention to me?”

  “Uh, yeah, I am. I’m just thinking.” I jerk my attention back to her.

  “Don’t think too hard, steam will come out of your ears,” she says with a smile before taking a bite of her slice of pizza. A strand of cheese stretches from her mouth as she draws it back.

  “Funny,” I reply with a smirk before taking a bite of the crisp lettuce. The grilled chicken, roasted corn, and black beans add just the right amount of flavor and texture to disguise the fact that I’m eating a salad.

  “What is your freaking hang up with Isaac now? What’s holding you back?”

  “I don’t know,” I huff.

  “Bullshit!” she shouts, catching the attention of the kids at the table next to us. Feeling their stare, my face heats.

  “Sarah, keep it down. Geez,” I whisper, not that she has a lower volume.

  “Feed that line of shit to someone else.”

  “It’s not a line of shit,” I say, defensive.

  “Then what is your problem? Isaac is hot. He seems sweet, and he seems to care about you a lot. I mean, the man stayed with you after the accident and waited on you hand and foot.”

  “He is a nice guy,” I grumble.

  “And?” She makes a come-on motion with her hand, encouraging me to continue.

  “What the hell does he see in me? I’ve seen the girls he’s been with. They are nothing like me.”

  “Maybe he realized he had shit taste and needs a change.”

  “Oh, I’m sure going home with a model look-alike has been a real strain on him.” I roll my eyes. “How am I supposed to hold his attention?”

  “Why can’t you? And what the hell is wrong with you?” she asks, one eyebrow arched.

  “I’m a fat redhead whose too damn smart for most men. If one doesn’t scare them away, the other will.”

  “Not all men are the same, Camryn.”

  “No, but if I can somehow keep their attention, I either end up cheated on or dumped for a chick who’s the exact opposite of me.”

  “What about Adam?”

  “What about him?” I ask, confused.

  “You two were together for a few years.”

  “And look where that got me. Dumped because he couldn’t love me,” I murmur, trying my hardest to keep the tears out of my voice. Closing my eyes against the pain, the words leave me in a rush. “I wanted Adam to be the one. But even though he seemed to like my flaws, I still wasn’t enough for him.” Even as the words leave me, the ache in my chest intensifies.

  “Okay, so he wasn’t your one. Maybe Isaac is. You just have to give him a chance.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it’ll last until the newness wears off and he’ll go back to his flavor of the week,” I say, jabbing my straw into my cup.

  “Damn, Camryn. I didn’t realize you were so judgmental,” she says, a sneer marring her beautiful face.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, flabbergasted. “Judgmental? Me?”

  “Hell yes. Have you listened to yourself? You’re condemning the man before he even has a chance with you.”

  “I’m being realistic,” I argue.

  “No, you’re not. You’ve tried and sentenced him before the trial has even started. You’re trying to come up with an excuse as to why it won’t work out before it even has a chance at working.” She points her finger at me with each word to emphasize her point.

  “But—”

  “No freaking buts. If you don’t give him a chance, hell no it’ll never work. You’ll doom your relationship before it ever starts. That’s not fair to him or you.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s not fair to him,” I say, sitting back against the metal slats of the chair.

  “Let’s talk about this logically. One, he’s never been in a relationship before, right?” At my nod, she continues. “Two, if he’s never been in a relationship before, he hasn’t cheated, so you can’t assume he will.”

  “But—”

  “No evidence, no conviction.”

  “You sound like a damn lawyer.”

  “What do you expect when we work in a law office? It rubs off,” she replies with a shrug.

  “What if I give him a chance and end up falling for him when it’s nothing to him? I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

  “But what if you’re everything to him? Do you really want to chance not finding out? And possibly losing the greatest love of your life?”

  Is she right? Is the risk of loving him worth the possible damage to my heart?

  Knocking draws my attention to the clock. Isaac isn’t supposed to be here for another twenty minutes. Damn, I wanted to get the cobbler in the oven before I went and got cleaned up. Wiping my hands on my dishtowel, I walk toward the front door. As I pass the mirror on the wall, I catch my reflection. My hair is slipping from the messy bun on my head, tendrils curling down my temple and neck, and flour is streaked across the apple of my cheek. Maybe it’s not him at the door. Those hopes are dashed as soon as I look through the peephole. I wipe the flour from my face and pull the door open. The sun makes a halo around his head, but he’s far from an angel.

  “Hey there, Red,” he
says with a devastating smile, and I go weak in the knees. “These are for you.”

  He holds out a bouquet of lilies, and the paper crinkles as I take them from his hand. The same spark I’ve always felt races up my skin as my hand grazes his.

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you. They’re my favorite.”

  “I know. But I wasn’t sure which type, so I got a few different ones.”

  “How did you know?” I ask with a smile.

  “Trade secret,” he replies with a wink.

  “Oh, where are my manners? Please, come in,” I say, stepping back to let him into the foyer.

  “Something sure smells good in here.”

  “Oh, it’s the pork chops. You’re a little early. I was just finishing up something in the kitchen for tonight.”

  “Something with flour?” he smiles before tracing his thumb down my cheek.

  “Uh…yeah,” I breathe out.

  “Red,” he whispers before his lips touch mine. All thoughts leave my head as his mouth devours mine, tongues tangling together. The flowers fall to the floor as I wind my arms around his neck. I have no idea how long we stand there making out like teenagers before the incessant beeping of the timer on the oven penetrates my brain. Reluctantly, he pulls away, hands on my hips, holding me steady.

  “I’m guessing you need to take care of that or something’s going to burn?” He smiles down at me.

  “If you want to eat tonight, yes.” Turning away, I head into the kitchen. His footsteps sound behind me as he follows, paper crinkling in his hand.

  “Is that cobbler?” he asks, wonder in his voice.

  I look over my shoulder as I open the oven door to see him practically licking his lips as he stares at the baking dish.

  “Yes. I hope you like peaches.”

  “Ice cream?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

  “I have vanilla, or I made whipped cream.” I laugh out when he moans. “There’s a vase in the cabinet behind you. Would you please get it for me?” I ask, pulling on my oven mitts. Taking out the heavy cast iron skillet, I place it on the stove before reaching in for the potatoes. I glance over my shoulder when he lets out a small whimper, wondering what caught his attention this time. When I realize his gaze is focused on my ass, I blush.