Page 11 of Pomegranate Kiss (Charmed in Charleston #2)
Chapter Eleven
L ex didn’t let women spend the night. Hell, she didn’t even bring anyone home.
Yet here Cam lay curled in her bed, the sunlight through the blinds highlighting her heart shaped face, her elegant nose, and a fringe of lashes so thick they bordered on angelic. Lex leaned against the frame of the door, watching the rise and fall of her chest. A fierce wave of longing nearly knocked her over at the sight of Cam in her bed, tangled in her jersey knit sheets, like this was something she could have.
Like they weren’t just a temporary fling.
Cam told Lex from the outset she couldn’t have this—whatever fears held her back from coming out, she wasn’t ready. Yet when she delivered wry retorts or let out loud, unashamed moans, when Lex caught her staring with a tender look in her dark eyes—Lex couldn’t help but fall.
Lex strode in, placing the two mugs of coffee on her dresser before she slid back into bed. She’d tugged on a pair of boxers but hadn’t bothered with anything else, her house a comfortable temperature. The moment she settled onto the mattress, Cam began to stir.
Lex leaned over to skim her fingers through Cam’s curls. Those thick black waves were pure silk she couldn’t seem to stop touching, especially since yesterday. The way they’d come together last night had been the stuff of her fantasies, better than she could’ve imagined.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” she murmured, leaning against her pillow, her legs sprawled out in front of her.
Cam blinked and pushed herself up, a sleepy, adorable air about her as she tried to smooth her hair. She glanced over to Lex’s alarm clock on the purple nightstand. “If I needed proof last night wore me out, that’d be it. I rarely sleep in this late.”
“Right, so you’re telling me job well done,” Lex drawled, tracing circles along Cam’s bare skin. The sheets slipped from Cam’s shoulders revealing her heavy breasts and dark nipples that formed stiff peaks. Lex was a tits girl, and this woman had the most magnificent pair she’d seen in a long time.
“Go ahead and strut, peacock,” Cam responded, a grin curling her lips. Her gaze swept over Lex’s body, raising the room a couple of degrees. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you topless.”
Lex shrugged. “I’m not usually in situations to take my top off.” Truth be told, she hadn’t completely stripped down with anyone. She always left something on, whether a bra, a shirt, or her underwear. In a way, it allowed her to keep her power, so she never felt truly exposed.
“Yet you’ve gotten your hands all over my breasts from day one,” Cam responded, shifting in the sheets. She reached out, gliding her thumb across the snake tattoo that wound up the right side to her breast. Lex’s breath hitched as Cam continued to trace the linework, lingering on the sensitive skin. Her cheeks flushed at the careful attention, making her feel beyond naked.
“Well you’ve got gorgeous tits, babe,” Lex said, trying to pivot out of the immense reservoir of feeling she’d dipped her toes into. “They deserve to be worshipped.”
“Smooth,” Cam murmured, a fresh and soft drowsiness to her features, like plunging fingers into the earth on the first day of spring. Her gaze transferred to the mugs on Lex’s nightstand. “You brought coffee? Be still, my heart.”
Lex grabbed her a cup and passed it over, needing the distraction. Part of her wanted to dive under the sheets and taste the honeyed warmth between Cam’s legs, but she also needed to abate this curiosity. She hopped off the bed again to grab the tote bag she’d lugged in, heavy with the art books Cam brought. They’d gone straight to fucking last night, but she’d been serious about seeing this woman’s chops.
If she were honest with herself, she wanted to know every single thing about Camilla Muhuri. It had turned into a full-blown obsession.
“I wasn’t just trying to lure you over with a pretense,” Lex said, tugging out the first sketchbook, heavy and spiral bound. She resumed her spot at Cam’s side. “You got to see my art, so it’s my turn now.”
Cam tugged at her hair forming a curtain over her face, gripping the mug of coffee with one hand. “Most of it is old or from college though. It’s embarrassing.” She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest. Lex’s insides melted like plastic in a campfire at the sight.
“Hey, I’m not grading you, sweetheart,” Lex said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her in. “So quit stressing.”
Cam leaned in against her chest, cheek pressed to her breast in a way that should’ve been distracting. But it felt comfortable, right. Lex skimmed her fingers through Cam’s raven wing hair and then cracked open the sketchbook.
Cam sipped at her coffee, even as she buzzed with nerves Lex could feel thrumming in the air between them.
Once Lex cracked open the sketchbook, she found herself spellbound.
Cam’s work was the polar opposite of hers, all soft, muted, and delicate in a way she could never be. As she flipped through the pages, she soaked in the small strokes, the flurry of paint on paper that was once a larger part of her life. Cam painted with watercolors mostly— idyllic fields, ballerinas akin to Degas, and scenes belonging to a world more beautiful than she’d ever fit into. She flipped through page after page of these gorgeous scenes, the firm strokes and gentle flurries something that required true talent.
Lex traced the patterns, the whimsical brush strokes, the curves and splashes of color. Cam’s work displayed the same softness that peeked out of her in moments like this. Behind her stubborn declarations and her sarcastic responses, these paintings on the pages were every melted chocolate glance, every shy grin as she exposed a part of herself Lex would torch a building for.
“The silence is killing me,” Cam murmured, pulling away to take another sip from her mug. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“Cam, this stuff is the real deal,” Lex responded, brushing her lips over the top of her head. “Is this what you went to school for?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I wanted to pursue something—anything—in the art field.”
When she stopped talking, the silence filled with the question Lex didn’t ask even though she had to admit she was curious. She continued flipping through the sketchbook of drawings and paintings that made her fingers itch to take those shapes and forms to skin.
“Then I dropped out, and all of those dreams crumbled to dust,” Cam said. She leaned past to place her mug on the nightstand, and then she nestled back in the crook of Lex’s shoulder. Lex tightened her arm around Cam, looping her hand around to rest on her stomach. Cam traced the ink of the tattoo along Lex’s thigh, her focus fixated on it.
“There was a teacher I had for graphic design in my third year. I thought it’d be a great practical avenue to pursue, and I was excited for the course,” Cam began, the weight in her voice demanding all of Lex’s attention. “Mr. Williamson was an older guy, and from day one he gave me bad vibes.”
Lex’s grip tightened on Cam as she continued, but she didn’t dare say anything to interrupt this.
“Over the course of the semester, red flags began to pop up. The times he’d ‘accidentally’ brush by me, how he’d call me up to his desk after class and his hand would find its way over mine. He’d begun cornering me to talk about my projects, and I’d have to be blind not to realize he was interested. But what could I do? He hadn’t made any overt moves, and I needed this class.”
Lex’s nails bit into Cam’s skin with how tight she gripped her, and her stomach flipped.
“And then came time for our required meetings. Once I got into the room, I knew something was wrong. I wanted out. He started talking about how I’d been looking at him, and he grabbed my wrist so tight it bruised.” Cam’s voice stuttered, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her chest rising with the movement. “The one thing that saved me was the next student scheduled coming early. The moment the door cracked open, he let go, and the next day I dropped out.”
“That must’ve been terrifying, babe,” Lex murmured, her voice coming out low. Her throat squeezed tight at the way Cam opened up to her, at the glaze in her eyes and how her whole body sagged against Lex’s like a lifeline. “If the guy is still employed, I’d be happy to go commit another felony.”
Cam looked up at her, a soft smile on her lips even as her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Nah, not necessary.” Her expression darkened. “He ended up raping a student a year later and got fired. I knew what he was capable of, but I didn’t say anything. And then someone else suffered for it. That’s a regret I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life, because I was too much of a coward to speak up. Bet you wish you hadn’t gotten tangled up with a mess like me, right?”
Lex slipped her fingers under Cam’s chin to tilt her head up. A couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, silvery trails that Lex brushed off with her thumb.
“No one would’ve done anything,” Lex murmured. “If you had spoken up, it was your word against his, and he’d been careful to keep his actions subtle. What happened to the other girl is fucking horrible, but you didn’t do those things. He did. Our system’s unfair as shit.”
Cam blinked away a few more tears and bobbed her head. “It still feels terrible.”
God, she wanted to protect her, to wrap her arms around Cam and hold on until the pain in her eyes dissolved. A deep rage sparked inside, the dormant embers waking to life again. This injustice led her to do drastic things, an anger that careened like a plane toward a crash. This sort of anger had landed her in jail in the first place.
When she stared into Cam’s eyes though, a sorrow lurked in her gaze that spoke to Lex stronger than anything else. She would burn down the world to take away that look in her eyes.
“Yeah, babe, it does,” was all Lex said, all she could say. She leaned back in the bed and they lay there in silence, holding onto each other like refuge in a storm. Around Cam, Lex’s hard shell cracked, the years of carapace she’d built up to keep everyone at an arm’s length. Her heart hurt like she’d plucked it out of her chest to strain against the bare air, but she sat with Cam in the pain—a little dark never frightened her.
What terrified her more than anything was this warmth, this connection that had become more precious to her than riding the highway in summer or the crash of the ocean during a storm. More precious than her own freedom. Lex’s throat dried as she continued to stroke her fingers through Cam’s silken hair, savoring the press of her warm skin.
She didn’t know what she’d do if Cam decided to walk away.
***
Lex sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the scents of rubbing alcohol and the sterilization fluid as the buzz of the stylus filled her ears.
“Matty’s been showing up late for his shifts,” Mitch commented, shifting in the seat as he prepared for the ink. “If you happen to see him at your family dinners, cuff him in the neck for me.”
“That’s your fault for making the Gin Mill the wayward house of Dukas rejects,” Lex drawled, stabilizing his arm before she set to work. The tattoo gun hummed in her hand as she prepared to continue. She’d already finished with the linework of his hellfire piece and most of the shading, but this was her chance to add the flair of detail work she loved.
“You might have a smart mouth, but you were on time and efficient. Matty’s gotten so involved with the motorcycle club that it’s beginning to affect his work.” Mitch gave her an intent look, which she understood as ‘take care of this.’ Neither of them wanted to see Matty fired.
“Better not start with the praise, my man, because my ego does not need inflation,” Lex responded even as her focus never swayed from the canvas before her. The colors and strokes reminded her of painting. After she’d flipped through Cam’s art books the other night, she’d busted out her old acrylics for the first time in forever. God it had felt so good to get her hands on a paintbrush again, and the inspiration flowed from her fingertips.
The buzz of the tattoo gun in her hand had fast become a familiar comfort. She remembered a time before she was a tattoo artist, but ever since she’d begun her apprenticeship, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
“Lex, you working late on Mitch again?” Bell called out as he strolled to the doorframe, gripping it by the top. Lacey slipped in underneath his arm, the petite pistol of a woman perfect for a shop assistant.
“Before Bell gets his hooks in, your first tomorrow afternoon cancelled in case you’ve got anyone waiting,” Lacey said, adjusting the hem of her slim tank that revealed arms begging to be tattooed. Their shop girl had accumulated a few, but everyone, especially Bell vied for her to get more. Lacey twirled around on her heel and blew a kiss to Bell. “She’s all yours.”
“Thanks, doll,” Bell said, offering a wink as she strode on by. He strolled up to them. “I’m going to slide into the free spot tomorrow.” He rolled his pants up his calf and pointed to an old tattoo on his leg. “I need this guy touched up.”
Lex nodded, even though a wash of nerves cascaded over her. She’d never tattooed Bell before, and she’d have to pull out her A-game if he was asking. “Sure thing, bossman.”
He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “We can have a talk tomorrow too. Six months is almost here.”
She didn’t need any reminding. The ticking down clock blazed in her mind most hours now, every day bringing her closer to the end of this thing with Cam. For the first time in her life, the idea of commitment wasn’t causing her throat to squeeze tight, and the tethers didn’t constrain. In fact, she wanted them more than ever before.
“About that, Bell,” she said, sucking in a deep breath. Mitch’s gaze bore into her, but she ignored the weight. “I’m in. When six months are up, I want to be here, working in the shop.”
Bell’s brows rose, but a grin brightened his face. “Glad to hear it, girlie. The shop wouldn’t be the same without your foul mouth.” He already headed for the door. “Lacey, we’re changing the schedule again,” he bellowed, his voice echoing to the rafters of this place.
“Fuck you too,” she called back, sweet as sugar.
Lex couldn’t help the grin as she shook her head. She grabbed Mitch’s arm and continued adding cobweb thin lines that stretched out farther, filling in the details she’d missed in her first couple of passes.
“Stop staring at me like that, fucker. Your arm is in my hands,” Lex grumbled. Mitch’s gaze pressed into her like a hammer drill, and she’d be lying if it didn’t make the previous insecurity surge into focus.
“Still with the sweet-talking,” Mitch responded. She glanced up to see the warm crinkle of his dark eyes. “I thought you’d be bolting once this apprenticeship was up. The whole sticking-around-to-see-it-through thing looks good on you.”
“You’re not my type, babe,” Lex drawled, trying to hide how her cheeks heated in embarrassment at the honest praise from her friend. “Though I think we tend to go for the same.”
“What can I say?” Mitch joked, even as he held still. “We’ve got amazing taste in women.”
Lex lowered the tattoo gun, the needle gliding across his skin in smooth, feathered strokes. She and Mitch had tag teamed for years, slicing their way through the club scene of Charleston, but for the first time the idea of hitting Notes to hunt for a woman to sneak in a couple of moans didn’t hold an appeal.
Lex knew what she wanted, and it was time she took the steps to claim it.