Bringing Home Mr. Wrong (Bringing Home Trouble)

Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Camila

The winter air bites my cheeks as I hurry across the deserted campus quad, my breath forming small clouds in the chilly darkness. I pull my coat tighter, but it's not just the cold making me shiver. It's the delicious thrill of anticipation, knowing I'll be in John's arms soon.

We've been stealing moments together for weeks now, sneaking off to quiet spots whenever I'm home from college. Quick coffee dates, walks in secluded parks, heated kisses in his car.

We have yet to go all the way yet, but every secret rendezvous only makes me fall harder. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles just for me, how his hands skim my curves like he's memorizing every inch...

I reach the parking lot behind the library where he's waiting. His silver Audi gleams under the streetlights.

I tap on the window and slide into the warm leather seat beside him.

"Hey beautiful," John murmurs, his blue eyes drinking me in. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I whisper back, my skin already tingling from his nearness. "Thanks for meeting me."

His fingers lace with mine over the console. "I'd meet you anytime, anywhere. You know that."

I lean in, breathing in his familiar scent of cedarwood and musk. Our lips meet, soft at first, then more urgently. A low moan escapes me as his tongue teases the seam of my mouth. God, the things this man does to me...

But even as I lose myself in his kiss, guilt niggles the back of my mind. My dad. His best friend. The secret we're keeping from him hangs between us.

I pull back reluctantly. "I hate lying to him, John. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

He exhales heavily, cupping my face with a rough palm. "I know, Camila. I don't like it either. But we agreed to wait until you graduate to tell him. It's only a few more months."

"I know. I just...I love you so much. I don't want to hide it anymore."

I clap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just let that slip out like that. My face colors as I peek over at John for his reaction.

His eyes soften as he removes my hands from my face.

"I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything."

He kisses me so tenderly it almost breaks my heart, and then he rests his forehead against mine and I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me, soothing my troubled heart. For now, it's enough to be here in this moment. The future can wait.

***

John

I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything.

The words come straight from my soul and I rest my brow against hers, breathing her in. I know it’s crazy. We haven’t even had sex yet, but the words are true.

She's everything I never knew I needed. I'm risking it all to be with her, but god help me, she's worth it.

"Let's get out of here," I murmur, reluctantly releasing her. "I know a place we can grab a bite to eat. Somewhere no one will see us."

Her smile is tremulous but trusting as she reaches for her seatbelt. "Lead the way."

I put the car in gear and point it towards the highway leading out of town. We have a few hours to make some memories before real life intrudes again. I plan to make every minute count.

Dinner is fantastic. Everything seems brighter in light of our confession.

The small Italian bistro is intimate and cozy, with flickering candles on the tables and the rich aroma of garlic and herbs in the air. I requested a private booth in the back, and as we slide in across from each other, our knees brush under the table, sending tingles up my thigh and straight to my dick.

Fuck, how I want her. Not just her beautiful body but her . Her heart. Her soul. I love everything about her.

We sip ruby red wine and share bites of pasta, talking and laughing quietly. But there's a new undercurrent between us now, an electric awareness that has me aching to be alone with her. I want to touch her, taste her, feel her skin against mine with no barriers between us.

After dinner, there’s a palpable tension between us as I drive us back to my place. I reach over and place my hand on Camila’s thigh, and I can feel her trembling.

My cock is a hard rod of steel in my pants, and it’s taking everything in me not to blow my load right here just smelling the sweet scent of her perfume in my car.

When we finally reach my place, I help her out of the car and no sooner are we in the house than we’re on each other. I crash my lips onto her, kissing her desperately, weeks of pent-up desire finally flooding forth.

“Fuck, Camila, baby, I want you so bad,” I rasp against her lips as I hump her crudely through our clothes.

She moans into my mouth, her slim body writhing against mine as our tongues tangle urgently. "I want you too, John. So much," she pants, her hands fisting in my hair. "Please..."

I scoop her up, my hands cupping her perfect ass, and carry her to my bedroom. Moonlight spills across the bed as I lay her down on the charcoal sheets, drinking in the sight of her in my bed.

Where she fucking belongs, dammit.

Her chestnut hair is fanned out on the pillow. Her hazel eyes are dark with need. Her pink lips are parted and panting.

My beautiful girl.

I hover over her, my heart hammering as I take in every exquisite detail of her face. The slope of her nose, the arch of her brows, the sweet dip of her cupid's bow. I want to memorize it all, burn it into my brain.

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?" I ask hoarsely, searching her eyes. "We can stop anytime. I don't want to rush you."

"I'm sure, John," she breathes, reaching up to stroke my face. "I want this. I want you."

Her words unleash something primal in me. I capture her lips in a searing kiss as my hands roam her lush curves, mapping her body through the thin fabric of her dress. She arches into my touch, little mewls of pleasure escaping her.

"Please," she whimpers when I trail my lips down the column of her throat. "Touch me..."

I work the zipper of her dress down with shaking fingers until the garment pools at her waist. My breath catches as I take in the sight of her in a nude lace bra, the dusky rose of her nipples visible through the sheer cups.

"Fucking beautiful," I groan, palming the heavy swells of her breasts. "You're so perfect, Camila. I can't believe you're mine."

She flushes prettily and reaches behind to unclasp her bra. It falls away and I have to bite back a curse at the reveal of her bare tits, full and ripe and tipped with pebbled peaks just begging for my mouth.

I lower my head and take one rosy nipple between my lips, swirling my tongue around the bud before suckling greedily. Camila cries out sharply, her back bowing off the bed. I lavish the same attention on the other breast, my hand drifting down to slip beneath her dress and cup her through damp lace panties.

"Oh god," she pants, writhing against my palm as I rub slow circles over her clothed sex. "That feels so good..."

I hook my fingers in her panties and tug them down her legs, groaning when I see how wet she is, her folds glistening with arousal.

I have to taste her.

Easing down her body, I nudge her thighs apart and breathe in the heady scent of her before running my tongue along her slit.

"John!" she keens, her hips bucking wildly as I lick into her, savoring her tangy sweetness. I rapidly bring her to the edge with lips and tongue and fingers, sucking her swollen clit as I work two digits into her tight sheath.

She comes apart with a strangled scream, her inner muscles clenching greedily around my fingers as she rides out her climax.

I groan into her flesh, so fucking hard it hurts, desperate to be inside her. I work her through the aftershocks with soft licks and gentle caresses until she's limp and sated beneath me.

Crawling back up her body, I claim her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She whimpers and clutches at my shoulders, our heavy breaths mingling.

"I need you, John," she rasps against my lips, her hips canting up to grind against my aching cock. "Please, I'm ready..."

I don't need any more encouragement. Shucking off my shirt and pants in record time, I settle between her splayed thighs, the broad head of my dick nudging insistently at her entrance.

"Look at me, sweetheart," I urge hoarsely, bracing my weight on my elbows. Her hazel eyes flutter open, hazy and dark with want, and lock onto mine. Emotion clogs my throat. "I love you so much. I need you to know that."

"I love you too," she whispers.

I cup her face in between my hands as I will her to understand, “I’m fucking obsessed with you, Camila. Always have been. We do this…and there’s no going back. You’re going to be mine . Do you understand me, little girl?”

She bites her lip and nods. “Yes,” she whispers. “I’m yours.”

I stare into her eyes, and then I'm pushing into her, slowly, carefully, groaning at the exquisite feel of her tight heat enveloping me inch by throbbing inch.

"Oh god, John..." Camila gasps, her nails digging into my back, her body trembling as it stretches to accommodate my not insubstantial size.

Fucking hell! She feels so good. So tight. Mother fuck . I can’t think. All I can do is stare into her eyes as I struggle to breath, the sensations of her virgin pussy overwhelming me.

I’m going to nut before I ever get fully inside her if I’m not careful.

I’m straining with the effort to hold back, every muscle in my body tight. I still when I'm fully sheathed, buried to the hilt in her slick warmth, giving her time to adjust. It's an exercise in restraint, everything in me screaming to take her hard and fast, but I won't hurt her.

"You feel so good," I grit out, my muscles quivering with the effort to hold back. "So perfect. Like you were made for me."

She makes a needy sound and rocks her hips, taking me even deeper. "Please, I need...I need..."

That's all the permission I need. I withdraw almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has her keening.

The wet sounds of our bodies moving together mingle with our harsh pants and low moans. Moonlight bathes our writhing forms as I make love to her, pouring every ounce of my devotion into each roll of my hips.

“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this?” I rasp. I’m delirous with pleasure, and all my dirty secrets come pouring out. “Do you know how hard it was watching you prance around in front of me in those little shorts you started wearing in high school? How many nights I had to come home and jack off to thoughts of my best friend’s daughter? You were always fucking teasing me. So fucking innocent. Never even knew what you were doing to me. Keeping my cock hard for you all the time. Been needing to tear this pussy up for years.”

"Ah, ah, ah, John," she chants with each powerful thrust, her head thrashing on the pillow. "More! More!"

I vary my angle slightly and she cries out as I hit that spongy spot deep inside. Her legs come up to wrap around my waist, her heels digging into my ass as she urges me on.

Planting my knees, I rise up and grip her hips, pistoning into her harder and faster, chasing our pleasure. The headboard slams against the wall with each driving thrust as I pound into her sweet, tight cunt. Her pussy clenches around my cock like a velvet vise, gripping me so perfectly.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," I grunt, my hips jackhammering relentlessly, sweat dripping down my chest. "You gonna come for me? Gonna milk my cock with this greedy little pussy?"

"Yes, yes, oh god John, I'm gonna come!" Camila wails, her back arching off the bed as she digs her nails into my straining biceps.

I feel her start to flutter around my shaft and I reach between us to rub tight circles on her swollen clit. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go. Come all over my cock. Fucking drench me," I command gruffly.

She shatters with a keening cry, her cunt rippling and gushing around me as she comes hard. Her release triggers my own and I roar out my pleasure as I empty myself inside her with pulsing jets of cum.

"Fuck, Camila!" I groan, my hips churning erratically as I ride out the mind-blowing orgasm, filling her with my seed.

I collapse on top of her, both of us panting harshly, our sweat-slicked bodies trembling in the aftermath. I pepper her face with gentle kisses, brushing her damp hair back from her flushed cheeks.

"I love you," I rasp, my voice raw with emotion. "I love you so goddamn much."

"I love you too, John," she whispers back, her hazel eyes glowing up at me in the moonlight, so soft and trusting it makes my chest ache. "That was...incredible."

"You're incredible," I murmur, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss that leaves us both breathless.

I roll us to our sides, still joined intimately, and pull her back against my chest, spooning her smaller body with mine. My hand splays across her belly possessively as I nuzzle into the fragrant silk of her chestnut hair.

She sighs contentedly, lacing her fingers through mine over her stomach.

This is worth every risk, every sacrifice. She's my forever. Even if it means shattering the other most important bond in my life.

I'll break my best friend's heart to keep hers.

***

The next morning Camila lets me hold her for a long while before she finally breaks the silence.

“I want to bring you home for Christmas. As my date. Tell Dad about you.”

I stiffen. "Camila, are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe we should?—"

"No, John." She presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. "I'm done hiding. I love you, and I'm not ashamed of it. Besides, how mad can he be once he sees how happy we make each other?"

I want to believe that so bad it hurts. But I've known her father for too long, and the depth of his disapproval when it comes to his little girl is no secret. "Okay," I reluctantly agree, unable to stand against her determined expression. "We'll do it your way."

Her grin is reward enough, and for a fleeting moment, I allow myself to imagine a future where the three of us are a family—messy, unconventional, but full of love.

"I better get you back to college," I say as I reluctantly slip out of bed.

Camila pouts but doesn't argue. Instead, she pulls on my shirt, the one that carries her scent and presses a lingering kiss to my lips. "I love you, John Hawkins."

"I love you too, Camila Winters."

I hold her in my arms one last time before gently setting her away from me. "I'll meet you at your father’s for the Christmas party."

"You better be there, mister," she teases, but there's a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "I'll have my dad's favorite whiskey ready, just the way you taught me."

"Well, then how can I say no?" I murmur, planting one last kiss on her forehead before grabbing my coat.

As I drop her back off at college, the wintery New York City skyline twinkling in my rearview mirror, I feel a surge of determination. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work—even if it means facing her dad's wrath head-on. After all, nothing—not age, not distance, not even her overprotective father—is going to keep me from the woman I love.