Page 26 of Ravage (Dark Desires #1)

I'M MARRIED, NOT BLIND

CAM

Over the next few weeks, Imogen and I fall into a pattern that neither of us seems ready to acknowledge.

While I've been on day shifts, we have yet to spend a single night apart.

Whether in her apartment or my house, we spend our evenings fucking like rabbits, before settling in to watch TV. It's all very domestic.

And I'm just waiting for the very undomestic woman I'm falling for to run screaming for the hills.

One Sunday evening, I pull up to my parents' house and glance at the woman beside me, who is wringing her hands.

"You doing okay over there?" I ask, wanting to reach for her but forcing myself to keep my hands to myself.

Her lips twist into a strained smile, her nervousness pouring from her in waves as she continues to fidget and bite her lip.

Realising I need to do something to calm her, I lean over and use a finger to lift her chin, bringing her gaze to mine.

"You don't have to do this. If you're not up for meeting my family, we can just turn this car around and head back to my place. "

She lets out a shaky breath and shakes her head. "No, it's fine. I'm just... What if they hate me?"

I laugh, pressing my lips quickly to hers before pulling away.

"They won't hate you. If anything, they'll love you more than me when they see how you argue with me.

It's character building, truly." She laughs, and we both get out of the car finally.

When I join her on the footpath, I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. "It'll be fine, I promise."

I don't even know how we ended up here. Neither of us has broached the subject about defining what this is between us. We've just simply been giving in to the addiction we both seem to have developed for the ridiculous amount of sex we've been having.

But in the moments when we're cuddled up on the couch together, or I've got her wrapped in my arms in bed?

Those moments don't feel like we're just in this for the sex.

When I'm not with her, I miss her. We text all day when my days allow it.

Usually, texts filled with all the things I want to do to her that night, and her begging me not to edge her quite so much when I walk in the door.

I'd worry I've pushed her too far - except she's admitted she loves it.

We make our way up the path to the front door, and I let myself in.

Imogen looks confused. "Shouldn't we knock first?"

"Um... No?" I reply, bemused. "It's my parents’ house... the house I grew up in... Why would I knock?"

She looks so puzzled that it would be cute if I didn't realise that the reason she's asking is that her parents would have made her knock.

Deciding not to linger on the unsettling thought, I lead her towards the kitchen, where I can hear my father banging around.

"Carol, where's the Glad-wrap!" Dad hollers.

"Where it has always been, you ninny," Mum fires back from the lounge room.

Imogen snorts before covering her mouth .

"It's not ther- oh, wait, yes, it is! Nevermind!" I enter the kitchen to find Dad holding the Glad-wrap triumphantly above his head.

The third drawer, where all the wraps and baking paper have been kept for as long as I can remember, is wide open.

"Insufferable man," I hear Mum mutter from the next room.

Dad seems to miss the comment, but it just makes me chuckle.

Imogen's eyes are wide as she whispers, "Wow... If my mother had spoken to my Dad like that..." She leaves the words hanging between us.

My chest tightens as I squeeze her hand. Her childhood truly sounds awful, and it saddens me to think of her having to live in a house that was so filled with judgement, and I suspect, an abusive father. Although her mother sounds pretty bad, too.

She gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand back. I force myself to return my attention to my father, who has turned to smile at us.

"Ah, look who it is! And with a beautiful woman, too?" He comes to give me a hug, clapping me on the back before reaching a hand towards Imogen. "It's nice to meet you, Imogen. It is Imogen, right?"

She nods, shaking Dad's hand. "It is, sir."

Nope, don't like that. Sir is bedroom talk only.

"It's Carl," I tell her, and the twinkle in her eye tells me she knows exactly what is going through my mind.

Dad continues speaking, oblivious to the silent discussion happening between us. "Oh good, cause for a minute there, I was worried I'd confused you with all of Cam's other women." He gives her a cheeky wink.

I shoot Imogen a look before shaking my head at what I'm sure Dad thinks is a hilarious joke. If only he knew it wasn't me with the various people on the go.

Since the night when she'd admitted that she regularly 'played' with several of her colleagues, we've not discussed it further.

Not because I'm pretending it doesn't happen, but because it just doesn't bother me.

We've made no promises to each other, and from her enthusiasm in the bedroom, I know I'm leaving her more than satisfied.

I have no idea if she's fucked either Sebastian or Annika in the weeks we've been sleeping together and figure she'll tell me if she wants to.

"Nope, just this one, Dad," I tell him, sliding my arm around her shoulders and tucking her into my side.

Mum enters the room with a smile on her face. "I thought I heard you, Cam. And Imogen, it's lovely to see you again."

She steps forward to hug us both at the same time, and I feel Imogen stiffen at my side. Mum doesn't seem to notice, but there's no denying Imogen isn't used to being greeted with friendliness by parental figures.

Mum insists Imogen join her out on the deck for a drink, and Imogen sends me a panicked look as my mother drags her outside. I want to rescue her, but Dad bails me up to help him in the kitchen, just as Michael and Felicity arrive with Jordan screaming at the top of his lungs.

It's utter chaos, and I can feel myself growing more and more tense as my family makes zero attempts to be on their best behaviour for our guest.

Imogen takes it in her stride, but I can see her taking it all in, processing the differences between my family and her own. Mum and Dad joke around with us like normal, and Michael is his usual, annoying as shit, self.

When Jordan clambers into Imogen's lap after dinner, she's like a deer caught in headlights, the panic returning to her eyes as she stares at me.

I swoop in to rescue her, transferring the two-year-old to my lap instead.

I don't miss the sigh of relief she makes once she's free.

Guess we're on the same page about tiny humans.

"So, how did you two kids meet, anyway?" Dad asks.

Beside me, Imogen stiffens.

I'd been expecting this line of questioning though, and place my hand on her thigh, squeezing gently.

"I got called out to a job where Imogen works.

I checked her out, but she was obviously preoccupied, so didn't even notice me.

When it turned out we had a mutual friend in common, he helped me get in contact with her so I could ask her out. "

"Oh, which friend?" Mum asks.

"Connell."

"Oh, that gorgeous Irish guy you used to work with, right?" Felicity asks, earning her a glare from her husband. "What? I'm married, not blind. And he was very, very attractive." She shoots a smirk towards Imogen.

Imogen grins back, the muscle in her leg relaxing under my palm. "Yep, that's Connell."

"How do you know Connell?" Felicity asks her.

And that muscle tenses right back up. "Um, we work together. He was there when the client was having chest pains. That's how Cam worked out we had someone in common."

"Very smooth, brother. I taught him everything he knows," Michael says.

I smack him up the back of the head. "Bullshit. Felicity, back me up here?"

Felicity gives her husband a pitying look. "Baby, let's not tell lies. You are not smooth. Do you want me to tell Imogen what happened when you asked me out?"

Michael opens his mouth in silent protest, but Felicity ignores him and leans towards Imogen, pretending to whisper behind her hand. "He was so nervous he threw up on my shoes."

Imogen laughs as Michael scowls at Felicity. "Traitor."

Felicity grins at him. "You love it."

Slowly, Imogen seems to relax, and I finally let my guard down. I try not to think too much about why I want her to feel comfortable here, amongst my family. Until we lay our cards on the table, this is nothing more than a bit of fun... Right ?

When we're finally back in my car, I turn to run my gaze over her. "You okay? That didn't stress you out too much?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "No. It was fine. They were all great. Don't stress, Cam. I had a good time. Your family is really nice."

I let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah... I guess I just didn't want them to upset you."

"Why would they upset me?"

"I don't know... they can be a lot, and I know you aren't used to how they can be..."

She reaches across the centre console to squeeze my hand as it rests on my thigh. "Thank you for worrying about me. But I'm fine, I promise. My own family might be awful, but I can still be around other people's families without it triggering me."

"Okay, good. That's good." I slide my hand out from under hers and turn the car on.

She pats my cheek as I turn to look at her before pulling away from the curb. "You're sweet, Cam."

I raise an eyebrow. "What happened to me being the devil?"

"Oh, you still have your moments." She winks. "But there's more heart in there than you let on."

With her words echoing inside my mind, I pull away from the curb and head towards home while planning all the not sweet things I'm going to do to her once we get in the door.