Page 14 of Worth the Wait (Worth It All #2)

But as Cameron pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like he never wants to let go, I finally feel like I can breathe again. Like I’m home again, even though I know we have so much history standing between us.

But there is history between us. There’s also an entire class standing between us.

He’s a Judd, someone I could never be good enough for, not in the long-term.

Maybe one night, one week, or in the case of four years ago, an entire seven months before he chose his family’s money and reputation over me.

But maybe he has changed. Maybe this time he’s different just like I’m different. Maybe we can find our way back to what we had before his family destroyed it.

But that’s exactly the problem.

I believed in him once before. I believed in us. I let myself think that love could overcome everything—family pressure, social expectations, the casual cruelties of people who thought I didn’t belong in his world.

And he let me down.

I pull away abruptly, as if the memory of that betrayal is a hot coal burning through my skin. “I can’t do this,” I whisper, fighting back tears. “I can’t give you another chance, Cameron.”

“Give me one reason why not,” he says softly. “Just one.”

I have a million reasons, but none of them seem to matter. Not with him looking at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, not with him so close that I can feel his breath against my cheek.

“Because you’ll hurt me again,” I whisper, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. “Because four years ago you chose them over me, and I can’t survive that happening again.”

Cameron’s hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “I was twenty-six and terrified of disappointing anyone. I chose wrong, Lianne. I chose fear over you, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“But what’s different now? Your family still won’t approve. The same obstacles?—”

“The difference is that I don’t care about their approval anymore. I’ve spent four years building something independent of them, proving to myself that I don’t need their money or their blessing to succeed.” His voice is raw with honesty. “The only approval that matters to me now is yours.”

I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of the uncertainty that destroyed us before. All I see is determination and something that looks like love.

“I’m scared,” I admit.

“So am I,” he says. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”

When he kisses me this time, it’s not just desire—it’s a choice. A conscious decision to risk everything for the possibility of us.

“Just tonight,” I whisper against his lips, giving myself permission to want him. “Just tonight, and then we figure out the rest tomorrow.”

“Just tonight,” he agrees, though his eyes suggest he’s hoping for much more than one night.

When he kisses me again, it’s with the desperate intensity of someone who’s been given a second chance at something precious. I respond immediately, my hands fisting in his T-shirt to pull him closer, my body melting against his like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this moment.

This kiss is different from the wine cellar—hungrier, more urgent, informed by four years of missing each other and trying to pretend we didn’t. Cameron’s hands are in my hair, at my waist, running down my back like he’s trying to memorize every curve.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he murmurs against my mouth, and I can feel the truth of it in the way his hands shake slightly as they frame my face. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Show me,” I breathe, then kiss him harder, pouring four years of frustration and longing into the connection between us.

He rolls us over in one smooth movement, settling above me with careful attention to my response. I don’t tense or pull away—instead, I welcome him with a soft sigh that sounds like coming home.

His hands find the hem of my oversized T-shirt, and I arch against him as he slides it up and over my head, leaving me exposed in the storm-lit darkness. For a moment he just looks at me, his expression filled with wonder and desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of my collarbone, down to my breast. “Every part of you.”

When his mouth follows the path his hands have taken, I gasp and arch beneath him, my fingers tangling in his hair. This is what I’ve been missing, what I’ve been denying myself—this feeling of being completely wanted, completely seen.

“Cam,” I whisper his name like a prayer as his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear that he somehow still remembers.

“I’m here,” he murmurs against my skin. “I’m right here.”

When he kisses me again, I can taste forever on his lips. The years we spent apart, the years we lost because we were too young and immature. But that all melts away as Cameron kisses me again, and I lose myself in the sensation of his mouth against mine, his hands on my body.

His T-shirt joins mine on the carpet, and then we’re skin against skin, nothing between us but years of regret and the promise of this moment.

I let him continue to explore my body like it’s brand-new, his hands mapping every curve, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my skin. It’s perfect, and I know that I’ll never get enough of him even when I know it’s just for tonight. I’ll deal with the consequences later.

When his hand slides between my legs, I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he strokes me gently, deliberately, his thumb finding my clit as he drives me closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Cam,” I moan as I come against his hand, waves of pleasure washing over me in a rush that leaves me breathless and aching for more.

“God, you’re amazing,” he murmurs as he shifts above me, sliding a condom over his cock with practiced ease.

I reach between us to stroke him, feeling him harden against my palm. He’s big and thick and perfect, and when he finally pushes inside me, I gasp, arching against him as he fills me completely.

We find a rhythm, his hips driving against mine as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. It’s perfect, and I realize that I don’t want this moment to end. That I could spend forever wrapped up in his arms, safe and warm and loved.

Cameron’s breathing grows ragged as he thrusts into me faster, harder, and I know he’s close. But I also know that he won’t finish without me, that he wants me to come with him, and that knowledge pushes me over the edge.

I come with a cry, my fingers digging into his back as pleasure rushes through me like a storm. Cameron follows me over the edge, his face pressed against my shoulder as he comes with a shuddering gasp, his body going rigid and then still.

We lay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the world outside a distant memory.

Eventually, he rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom, disposing of the condom.

Returning to the bed, he pulls me back to him, his hands skimming down my body as if he can’t bear to lose contact with me.

“That was...” I start, then stop, because there aren’t words for what this felt like.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his arms tightening around me. “It was.”

Outside, the storm continues to rage, but inside our rose-colored sanctuary, everything feels calm and right and exactly as it should be.

For the first time in four years, I fall asleep feeling completely safe, completely wanted, completely home.