Author's Note: The bookstore in this fic really exists, at least in name. (Hopefully the proprietor wouldn't mind me borrowing its name for a Hameron smut fic!) C. Arden Bookseller is located in the small Welsh village of Hay-on-Wye. I've never been there, but I gaze at the tiny dot on my map of the UK on a daily basis. Any village that nearly has more book shops than it does residents is my idea of heaven.
"Where are we going?" Cameron asked as she tried to surreptitiously peek through her fingers. Her hands were cupped over her eyes, and House guided her down the street with his hand cradling her elbow.
"I told you already. My favorite place in the world."
Cameron grinned teasingly. "I thought your favorite place in the world was inside – "
"My favorite public place in the world, then," House interrupted with a smirk.
The walk from the bike wasn't far, but it was difficult to navigate the cracked sidewalk of the small side road with Cameron's eyes closed.
"Here we are," he said as he turned Cameron to face the store. "Open your eyes."
Cameron blinked and looked at the storefront. The door had been painted a rich, warm burgundy color. Directly overhead, a hand painted wooden sign swung from an ornate oil-rubbed bronze bracket. The words "C. Arden – Bookseller" were carved in large print, with the description "New, Out-of-Print, and Scarce Books" in smaller print below.
"I've never even heard of this place before," Cameron said as she took a step towards the door.
"It's a well-kept secret," House replied. He opened the door and ushered Cameron inside with his hand on the small of her back. "I may actually be their only customer."
The cheerful, brightly painted sign on the exterior stood in stark contrast to the interior of the shop. The front room glowed softly from the amber light of two bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Heavy, dark wooden beams hung low enough that House had to duck his head as he passed underneath them. Long shadows were cast across the display table in the center of the room, which was piled high with new-release books. Cameron picked up a paperback and inspected the back cover. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw House nod a silent greeting to the elderly shopkeeper sitting behind the counter.
"Don't even bother," House said, gesturing towards the book she was holding. "This room's all New York Times Bestseller drivel. The good stuff is through here." His hand went back to its resting place just above the waistband of her flowing cotton skirt and he led her through the arched doorway into a second, even smaller room.
"Oh my god…" Cameron's voice trailed off as she spun around slowly, scanning the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that engulfed the room.
"Keep going," House said softly, his body pressing into hers to steer her in the right direction.
They walked through a maze of side rooms, each one smaller than the last. She noticed that as they passed from one room to the next, the books on the shelves transitioned from fairly recent releases to progressively older editions.
Finally, they stood in what could only be described as a large closet, surrounded on all sides by antique early-edition hardcover books. The musty scent of ancient paper tickled their nostrils. House leaned back against the wooden ladder that was propped up on one of the shelves. He twirled his cane in his hands while he watched Cameron walk the perimeter of the room, trailing her fingers along the spines of the books with reverence.
"So what do you think?" House's voice was quiet and deep.
"I think…" Cameron closed the space between them in a few short steps, slid her hands in between his button-up shirt and his t-shirt, wrapped her arms around his waist. "I think if a building could have a personality, a spirit… then this store would be your soul mate."
"I thought you had already filled that position," he said, wrapping his arms around her before he pressed his lips to hers.
Not satisfied with the chaste kiss, Cameron darted her tongue out to trace his bottom lip, seeking entry into his mouth. House granted her access, welcoming the warm slide of her tongue against his. He propped his cane against the bookshelf behind him and inched his hands down to cup her ass through the soft fabric of her skirt.
Cameron leaned in to him, entranced by the feel of his tongue exploring her mouth, the seclusion of their hideaway in the recesses of the bookshop, the decades of history weaving a cocoon around them and seducing them into believing that this moment, this place, existed solely for them.
House lifted Cameron and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He turned around so that her back was against the ladder and sat her down on one of the rungs. His hand glided over the smooth skin of her leg and inched underneath her skirt, moving higher and higher. His movements ceased abruptly when he reached the apex of her thighs.
"No panties?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. She smiled at him wickedly and bit her bottom lip. "Cheeky," he quipped, and then kissed her again.
House slid one long finger inside her. She was wet, warm, and soft, and she moaned quietly when he curled his finger in a come-hither motion. With long, slow strokes, taking his sweet time, he worked her into a frenzy. His finger curled and twisted as his thumb circled her clit, until she was panting and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.
"More," she pleaded, and reached for the zipper of his jeans.
Cameron pulled the zipper down and reached inside his boxer briefs, immediately wrapping her hand around his erection and applying gentle pressure. She tilted her head up and nipped at his earlobe as she freed his cock from the confining garments.
"I want you inside me," she said, her voice smooth and husky.
House groaned and wasted no time in pushing into her. Cameron parted her thighs more to take him in as deeply as possible, then hooked her ankles together behind his back. With each slow thrust, she tightened her grip on him, pulling his body into hers. He touched her everywhere he encountered bare skin: her legs, arms, the tantalizing glimpse of her hip where the hem of her tank top had crept upwards.
Cameron slipped her hand between their bodies and began rubbing her clit in time with House's thrusts. He felt her instantly tighten around his cock and he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as he tried to hold on for just a few more minutes. He quickened his movements, and her hand matched his pace. House felt her clamp down on him as she cried out loudly and her body trembled.
"Shhhh," he whispered in an attempt to silence her.
But Cameron was coming hard, and she continued moaning despite her best efforts to keep quiet. House pressed his palm against her mouth and she grazed the fleshy part of his hand with her teeth. She had snaked her hands underneath his t-shirt, and now her fingertips were digging in to the tensed muscles in his back. He pumped into her forcefully; the movements of their bodies were shaking the bookshelves, and a precariously shelved tome hit the floor with a dull thud.
House was suddenly overwhelmed by the sensations: the pulsing of Cameron's inner muscles around his cock, her muffled cries, the wet slide of her tongue on his hand. He threaded his fingers through the silky strands of her hair and let go, coming inside her with a grunt.
Cameron lowered her feet to the bottom rung of the ladder and held on to House as they leaned into each other for support. They each helped the other adjust their clothing, taking time to place lingering kisses on little patches of bare skin before they were once again hidden from sight.
Once fully dressed, House pulled Cameron into his arms and pressed a kiss into the top of her head before turning to lead the way to the front of the shop. Cameron bent down and quickly picked up the book that had fallen off the shelf during their enthusiasm. She read the title and grinned, then hid the novel behind her back as she caught up to House. When they reached the front room, she feigned interest in the collection of knickknacks on the counter next to the register.
"Come on, let's go," House said impatiently, tugging on her hand as he reached for the doorknob. "I seem to have suddenly worked up an appetite, and the café around the corner closes soon."
"You go ahead, I'll catch up to you in a minute."
He looked at her suspiciously, but eventually nodded and walked out of the shop and into the late afternoon sunlight. As soon as the door had closed behind him, she revealed the hidden novel and smiled sweetly at white-haired shopkeeper.
He glanced at the cover of the book through wire-rimmed reading glasses, then inspected Cameron's face closely. She fidgeted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, but the gentleman's eyes soon softened.
"Excellent choice, my dear," he said in a thick Welsh accent as he accepted the credit card from her. "You see a lot of yourself in her, don't you?"
"How did you know?" Cameron cocked her head in bewilderment.
"It's my job to know," he said cryptically. He smiled kindly and patted her hand before shuffling back to his chair. "Now you go and enjoy a nice lunch with your Mr. Rochester."
Cameron blinked in amazement, then tucked the ancient edition of Jane Eyre in the crook of her elbow and ran off to catch up with House.