Fuck.
“Chloe, he’s on his way here right now. What am I going to do?” I beg her to give me the perfect answer.
I left my phone unattended for a few hours to reset myself, and I came back to a nightmare. Cam is on his way here right now and might have already landed. He can’t be here when Trey comes.
“Take a breath. Let’s start with that,” she says calmly as she locks the door to the shop and hangs the sign up, saying we’re closed for the next week.
We weren’t sure how long to close for, but we figured that was a good start. Chloe also let our staff know that we would be closed but that they would be paid for what they were scheduled.
My throat clenches, and my eyes well with tears when I imagine what is to come. “He can’t be here, Chloe.”
She walks over to me and sits on the counter next to me. “Why is he coming here?”
My brows slam together. “What? What do you mean?”
“Why is he coming to visit Duluth, Minnesota, on his few days off when he could be resting and relaxing, like he was planning to?” she asks.
Taking a slow, long breath, I answer her honestly, “Because he wants to see me.”
She clicks her tongue and winks at me. “Exactly right. Because he cares for you and wants to spend whatever free time he has with you. So, you know what you are going to do? Continue to face your fears.”
“I’m scared to lose him,” I whisper.
Horrified. Terrified. Petrified. Whatever you want to call it, I am that.
What if he thinks less of me and leaves? I know Cam isn’t quick to judge, but I can’t help but consider that as a possibility.
But it’s time. He deserves the truth, and I’m going to give him it. I’m going to tell him who I really am, why I’m here, and why I’ve been so scared to tell him how I really, truly feel about him. That I love him.
Nikki Satinn has served her purpose. She kept me and my family safe for as long as she could. But Nikki can’t save me anymore. It’s time I take that mask off once and for all.
When I checked my phone and listened to Cam’s voice mail, my heart dropped. If Trey hurts him, I will never forgive myself. I haven’t texted or called Cam back yet. I don’t know how to tell him not to come without breaking my own heart—or his.
My phone buzzes on the counter next to me. Which is the only warning I get before a knock sounds on the door behind us, and I jump off of the counter as I feel phantom spiders crawling across my skin.
Turning around, I prepare for the worst. It’s Trey. He’s here for me.
But instead, I get the best.
Cam.
He wiggles his fingers at me with the biggest smile.
I walk over to the door as Chloe tells me, “I will give you guys some space. Call me if you need me, okay?”
Nodding, she leaves me to deal with this mess of my own making. I unlock the door and let him in, relocking it behind him.
“Look, Cam, I need to—ahh!”
I shriek as I become airborne as he swings me around in circles.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers into my ear before lowering me to the ground and pulling me into a hug with my head against his chest.
Inhaling deep, I breathe him in and sigh, “I’ve missed you too.”
He releases me and steps back. “I hope you listened to my voice mail and this isn’t an unwelcome surprise.”
Laying my hands on his abs, I kiss his chest and assure him, “You being here is never unwelcome.”
“Good.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry to surprise you if that’s not okay. But after practice today, I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was doing that interview. After that article was published about us, the first thing I wanted to know was if you were okay.”
I stopped listening at the word interview.
“What did you just say?” I interrupt him. “What interview? Did you talk about me in it?”
“Of course I did. Everyone wants to know who you are. And when I was telling the interviewer about you, I couldn’t stop thinking about something I have been wanting to tell—”
“Cam, please. What did you say about me?” I beg him to answer.
His brows furrow, and his shoulders tense. “What’s going on? Why are you upset?”
Frustration rattles me to my core. “Please just tell me. I need to know exactly what you told them.”
Cam reaches out to grab my hands, and I flinch. I flinch from Cam. But not because of Cam, but because of the emotions and feelings being stirred up right now.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“Nikki, what is happening right now? What am I missing? Is it about the sign on the door?” he whispers.
I cackle. “Nikki.”
Oh fuck, I’m losing it.
“I will tell you everything, but please tell me what you said—every detail. Nothing is too small.”
“I told them how happy you make me. How you are someone I never knew I needed but that you’ve changed my entire life. You make me look at everything differently in the best possible way.” He pauses. “I told them your name and that you run a coffee shop here. If I can help spike business, I want to. I want you to be as successful as you can be. I know how important it is to you.”
Ripping my phone out of my pocket, I call Chloe and wait for her to answer.
She picks up on the first ring. “What’s going on?”
All of the words try to come out of my mouth at once, but nothing makes it past my lips.
“Nikki?” she fearfully whispers.
Opening my mouth, I force the words out. “He knows where I am. He knows where to find me.”
Saying those words out loud sounds much scarier than they did in my head. It makes them real.
He knows where to find me.
Cam whispers, “Who? What is going on?”
Chloe gasps. “How? What happened? Nikki?”
Tears well in my eyes until a drop falls over the edge of my lashes and rolls down my cheek.
“Nikki?” Chloe shouts in the phone as it slips out of my hand, caught mid-drop by Cam.
“C-Chloe, what is going on right now?” Cam stutters into the phone.
“What else did you tell them?” I ask, my voice sounding unrecognizable.
“Chloe said she’s coming back. She turned around,” Cam says, still confused.
I reach my hand out, and he sets my phone in my grasp.
I tell Chloe, “Don’t come back. Please. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Are you sure? I’m right outside. Whatever you need, I’ll do it,” she says, and I can hear the sadness in her voice.
“I need to talk to Cam. Come over in the morning,” I tell her.
“Okay, I love you,” she says soothingly.
“I love you too,” I say and hang up before I change my mind.
I’ve envisioned this conversation a million times in my head, trying to come up with the best way to tell him. But there’s no way to ease him into this. To tell him that who he knows me as is a lie.
Taking a calm and shaky breath, I set my phone down and turn to face him.
“Let’s go to my office, and I’ll explain everything,” I tell him, already leading the way.
He follows me down the hallway in silence and into my office, finding a seat on my couch. I opt for my desk chair to put some space between us.
“Promise me you’ll listen until I’m finished, that you won’t leave and that you’ll try to understand,” I beg him. “Please.”
Meeting his eyes, I notice the fear in them and the way his posture sinks from my words.
He agrees, “I promise.”
Blowing out a shaky breath, I stop my foot from tapping and force myself to be still, to try to calm my anxiety. “My name isn’t Nikki Satinn.”
He gulps. “What do you mean, it’s not your name?”
I sit on my hands to stop them from quivering. “I mean that Nikki Satinn isn’t a real person. I made her up. It was the only way I could escape.”
I see the panic and the questions brewing in the constant adjustment of how he’s sitting and in the rapid tapping of his foot.
“Escape what?” he quietly asks.
“Not what. Who,” I breathe. “My ex-boyfriend, Trey, the one that I’ve told you about. I had to get away from him, and when the chance arose, I took it, and I ran. He was going to kill me even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself yet. He was never going to let me go.”
“If he thinks you’re alive, he must still be looking for you … unless he thinks you’re—”
“Dead. He thinks I’m dead,” I state. “I made my parents bury a coffin that I wasn’t in. I let everyone in my life believe that I died so I could get away from him and keep them safe. He had no reason to hurt them when he couldn’t hurt me anymore.” Images of him at dinner with my parents tighten my fists. “Do you know he takes them out for dinner, like they’re a happy family? Like he isn’t the reason why their daughter is dead.”
“Nikk—I’m sorry.”
“My real name is Morgan Dove,” I tell him as I rub my finger over the tattoo on my wrist.
He whispers, “Little Dove.”
“It was the one piece of myself that I kept—a reminder of who I am and why I’m here. If I stayed hidden, everyone in my life was safe, including you.” The stream of tears continues to pour down my cheeks. “But now, he knows how to find me. I don’t know for a fact if he’s seen the article or your interview. But he will. And when he realizes I’m alive, he won’t stop.”
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Cam says. “I understand. I understand why you did what you did. But if you think for one second that I’m going to walk away and leave you to fend for yourself, you don’t know me at all. Ask me what else I told that interviewer.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “It doesn’t matter what else you said, Cam. It’s not your fault. I should have told you the truth sooner.”
He stands, walks over to me, and grabs my hand, pulling me back to the couch with him.
He sits down and pulls me forward until I’m standing between his legs. “Morgan, ask me.”
Morgan.
He said Morgan. Not Nikki, but my real name. I didn’t think there would ever come a day that someone would call me that again. It’s like waking up from years of dreaming and playing pretend.
What he said in the interview doesn’t matter anymore. The damage is already done. None of it is his fault, of course. But there’s nothing else I need to hear.
I expected him to be a little more upset that I’d been lying to him this whole time. But instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer.
His hands hook behind my thighs, his thumbs stroking the fabric of my jeans, and I decide to let him tell me anyway. Nothing he could say would make me angry or sad or change what’s already coming.
I whisper, “What else did you tell them?”
Looking deep into his eyes, I look for any hint of resentment or regret. But I find the complete opposite.
“That I love you, Little Dove,” Cam blurts out.
My heart tumbles. “That you … what?”
He releases my thighs and grabs my face, pulling me closer to him. “That I love you. No matter what your name is, no matter where you came from or where you’re going, I love you. I love you. I fucking love you. I don’t care about any lies you had to tell me to survive. Only that you tell me the truth from now on. I’m here, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I become weightless as I fall into his lap, straddling his legs, on a high of what he just said. He doesn’t release my face as I cup his jaw and caress the stubble on his cheeks.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I’ve wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t until you knew who I really was. But I love you so much, Cam. Every moment with you is what I have always wanted. I didn’t know that I could be loved like this, that I deserved a love like yours.” My lip quivers. “Trey … he broke me. He controlled my body and eventually my thoughts. He made me think that I wasn’t even good enough for him, that I wasn’t good enough to make my own decisions, that I just wasn’t enough. But I know that’s not true.”
“You are more than enough, Morgan. You always have been,” Cam whispers as his lips brush against mine.
Is this what I’ve been missing out on my entire life? A love like this?
Trey has taken enough from me. He’s not taking this. He can’t. Our love is the one thing he can’t break.
“I trust you,” I say against his mouth. “I trust you fearlessly.”
Sealing our lips together, I kiss him, long and slow, cherishing it.
His hands drift to my neck before skimming down to my shoulders and sliding onto my waist. Without breaking our kiss, he stands and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me out of the office and to the stairwell to my loft.
His lips pull away from mine and find my jaw. With gentle and sweet kisses, he leaves a trail down my neck to my collarbone, following the path back up as he ascends the stairs with me in his arms.
Grabbing the door handle, I throw it open. Cam kicks it shut with his foot and carries me over to the bed, his mouth and tongue never leaving mine.
He lays me down and hovers over me, his hands on either side of my head. “I love you, Morgan.”
“I love you too,” I murmur as my fingers grab the bottom of his hoodie and lift, pulling it and the shirt beneath off of him.
I throw them to the floor, and his rough hands grasp my sweater, lifting it up and over my head. It quickly joins his clothes on the ground. My bra is next to go.
“You are so beautiful, every single inch of you,” he says as his eyes explore me, burning a trail of desire on my body.
Sitting up, I reach for his pants, running my hand down the bulge that’s trying to break free. I hook my fingers in the waistband and pull them down over his hips, surprised at how hard he already is as his massive erection springs free.
Grabbing my chin, he lifts my head up to meet his gaze and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. Words don’t mean anything to people who were hurt by never-ending broken promises. His thumb swipes my bottom lip.
He nods his head, and I let him guide me to my feet. Holding my stare, he undoes my jeans and shimmies them down my legs, slowly bringing his fingers back up my now-bare skin to the lace of my panties. They are next to go. But first, he glides his fingers between my legs, finding how soaked I already am. He smirks and grabs the thin lace, pulling it down to my ankles in one smooth motion.
Every nerve in my body is alive and on edge, anxiously waiting for his touch.
Reaching out, I grab his dick, rubbing my thumb over the moist tip. He licks and bites his lip.
With a hand on my chest, he pushes me back to the bed, and I fall down on my elbows and shimmy my way closer to the pillows.
Cam stands at the end of the bed, just watching me. Smirking, he shakes his head, and his lips break into a full smile.
“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He moans as he begins stroking himself, base to tip.
He follows me onto the bed and grabs my left leg, placing kisses from the top of my foot, up my calf, and up the inside of my thigh, each kiss more sensitive than the last. He repeats these steps with my right leg before lying down with his head between my legs.
His tongue runs up my soaked center, and I gasp, throwing my head back. He eases a finger inside me, circling it, over and over. Another finger joins in, stretching me slowly.
“So tight for me, baby,” he whispers, adding a third finger.
His tongue latches on to me. As his fingers begin pumping faster and faster, his tongue matches the quick pace until I’m a mumbling and moaning mess on the verge of bliss.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Cam praises me before his tongue finds the perfect spot again.
My breathing quickens, and—oh shit, here it comes. “Oh fuck! Cam!”
His fingers continue their delicious torture as he tears the top of a foil packet with his teeth that he seemed to pull out of thin air.
“You trust me?” he asks as he positions himself between my thighs.
“Yes,” I whimper. “I trust you.”
Fuck, I don’t know how that’s going to fit.
As if reading my mind, he says, “Don’t worry, baby. You were made for me; you were made for this.”
His tip slides in, and I gasp, feeling the tightness overwhelm every cell in my body. Thrusting in further, he stretches me, molding my body to his.
“Fuck,” he growls as he grabs my thighs and lifts my hips up.
Reaching over me, he pushes in deeper and grabs a pillow, placing it under my hips and lower back, lining us up.
He pulls out just slightly and thrusts in harder and faster this time.
“Goddamn,” I whimper and writhe as he begins pumping in and out of me, stronger with each thrust.
“You’re doing so good,” he says before pulling out to the tip and inching back in.
“Cam …” I beg him for more. “Please.”
Pushing the tip in further, he teases me, “Please what?”
“Please,” I whimper.
He pulls back out until just the tip remains. “Say it. What do you want?”
Cupping my breast, I meet his hungry, darkened stare. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Are you going to take it all, Little Dove?” he begs.
“Yes,” I moan, and his thumb circles my clit, making my hips buck.
He slams into me, and I moan and scream in pleasure, “Fuck!”
He pauses only for a second as I adjust to his size. I’ve never been so full.
He pulls out and thrusts back in, filling me more than before. “There you go, baby. Take every inch.”
He grabs both of my ankles with one hand and bends my legs back toward me, sliding in and out of me deeper and deeper.
“You feel so fucking good.” He cups my breast with his free hand.
Rolling his hips, he fucks me slowly, torturing me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
“Harder, please,” I whine.
Letting go of my ankles, he leans over me, pressing my knees into my chest, and smirks. “If you say so.”
He pulls out and slams into me, over and over, tip to hilt. He fucks me without restraint, without any secrets between us. He fucks me with love and undying passion.
“Fuck, Morgan,” he whispers harshly into my ear, and I lose it, hearing my real name on his lips.
“Cam! Cam, fuck!” I cry out his name over and over as a bolt of pleasure shoots through me.
He fucks me through my orgasm, not letting up in the slightest. “Give me one more, baby.”
He picks up the pace, fucking me harder and harder with each thrust, moaning under his breath.
His thumb finds my most sensitive spot, circling it. My back arches off the bed as the sensations become too much.
“Fuck yes. What a good fucking girl you are, tightening around me, clenching my cock. Be greedy, baby. It’s all yours,” he grunts as he pumps into me, sending both of us into oblivion. “Fuck, Morgan.”
My body lights up like a damn firework, exploding with pleasure.
He moans in my ear, and his hips roll as he comes, whispering my name—my real name.
