Chapter 21

21

Josefine

Cam doesn’t follow me out right away, but he keeps his attention fixed on me while I dry off in our private little alcove. If the way he’s blinking so rapidly is any indication, then the wheels in his head are spinning as fast as mine.

Did I really just proposition him for sex? I feel like Natalie Portman in Friends With Benefits . Or is that with Mila Kunis? Who’s the one in No Strings Attached ? I always get the two movies mixed up. Anyway. Not only did I proposition him for sex, but I dispensed my top kinks like bubblegum from a machine.

For a heartbeat or two as I made my way back to the beach, I thought my pounding heart might beat right out of my chest, but I shook off the sensation. I refuse to cower.

Women should feel empowered in the bedroom, not ashamed. And life’s too short to have terrible sex. While there is nothing wrong with the vanilla variety, I’m more of a rocky road with rainbow sprinkles kind of gal.

I didn’t intend to embrace my brazen side in the middle of the Mediterranean, but I can’t resist our chemistry. Call EMS, because I nearly died whilst floating nude next to the man. And a man he is. The way the muscles of his legs flexed as he sauntered into the ocean should be illegal. And those dips in the sides of his glutes? I’d lap milk out of them like a kitten if he’d let me.

After we walked in on Millie and Ezra this morning, she and I had a little heart-to-heart. My cousin, who’s normally an open book, kept the door closed on the scene that unfolded last night.

But if there’s one thing Millie is good at, it’s helping me see through my bullshit. She pointed out that this thing between Cam and me doesn’t need to be a big deal. Therefore, I’ll embrace the joke the universe is playing on me, put on my casual overalls (metaphorically speaking), and get some good dick out of it. But I refuse to fall in love like Natalie or Mila. In the end, he will not be my Ashton or my Justin.

This is strictly physical. No feelings involved.

Easy.

Following my breakup last year, I swore off relationships. In retrospect, I can see how I was following a pattern my mother had modeled for years. When I needed a place to live, I let Tyler dangle shiny things in my face. (And I’m not talking about his Prince Albert.) Offering a desperate eighteen-year-old an apartment steps away from the Pacific Ocean? That was a major red flag, though I wasn’t old enough or wise enough to see it then. From where I’m standing now, I’m not even sure he loved me. Maybe he liked the companionship, the sex, the convenience, but he never valued me the way I deserved.

I’m long overdue for a therapy session. This I know to be true. But I refuse to be like my mother and permanently rely on a man.

Aside from ending a toxic relationship, moving to New York City has been the wisest decision I’ve ever made. But dang, has it been an arduous adjustment. Thank fuck for my cousin. While Millie has declined my numerous offers to pay rent, she did agree to let me take care of groceries and cooking. Shout out to cooking tutorials on social media, or else our diet would consist of smoothies, grilled cheese, and Hot Pockets.

For a split second, I’m hit with an image of cooking for Cam and the kind of reactions I could elicit from him. But I quickly suppress that picture. Nope. Stuff that image right down the garbage disposal I wish our NYC apartment had. I shall not be cooking for any man anytime soon, thank you very much.

Cam, now sliding his shorts up his thick thighs, grins at the sound of my stomach rumbling and picks up his phone to call a cab. Thank fuck. After my mini declaration in the water, it’s been next to impossible to keep my hormones in check, and I can’t blame the sea water for dampening the towel beneath me.

“So, you survived your first nude beach experience. What did you think?” Cameron’s body is tucked in close behind me in the resort’s revolving doors. The salt from our skin feels like sandpaper when his bare arm brushes the back of mine.

“Honestly?” I giggle. “I kind of loved it. No tan lines.”

“I’ll have to inspect later to be sure,” he growls in my ear.

“Speaking of later,” I begin, hiking my bag up higher on my shoulder when we’ve stepped into the lobby. “I’m going to take a shower and then…” I trail off. How does one say ‘and then come over for some sex’?

“Why don’t you shower in my room?” he suggests, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

The idea is intriguing. Showering in his room would be more efficient. And when was the last time I showered with a man? It’s been so long I can’t remember. While he didn’t precisely propose we shower together, the heat in his expression makes it pretty damn clear he wouldn’t object .

“Let me shoot Millie a text.” I pull my phone from my bag, absolutely not relishing the way Cam steps closer and the warmth radiating from him.

Me

Hey boo. Back from the beach. What are you doing?

Millie

About to take a nap. Do you need in the room?

Me

Nope. That’s perfect. I was going to shower with Cam’s

*at Cam’s

Millie

I think you were right the first time winking face

Me

smirking face

Maybe…

Millie

Have fun and make good choices

Me

I’m always good…

Millie

I’ll let Cameron decide that winking face with tongue

Me

Enjoy your nap love u

Millie

Enjoy your eggplant sweat droplets

Love you too boo

“All good?” Cam asks when I slip my phone back into my bag.

It isn’t until that moment that I realize I’ve blindly followed him to his room. Like daydreaming while driving. One moment, I was in the lobby, and in the next, I’m standing outside his room, without any recollection of the journey.

“All good.”

Joey-0

Stupid grin-1

“Bath or shower?” He eases my bag from my shoulder and sets it on the table next to his. I slip out of my flip-flops by the door, leaving behind a dusting of sand on the tile.

As much as I’d love a bath, I think I’ll save it for after. “Shower.” I saunter to the bathroom, ditching my linen cover-up in the process, and peek over my shoulder. “You coming?”

Wearing a devilish smirk, Cam strides across the room like he may burst if he has to wait one more minute and pins me against the counter from behind. My hip bones sting at the abrupt contact.

Cocking a brow, I shoot him a challenging look in the mirror. What’s your next move?

With his arms wrapped around my torso, caging mine at my sides, he pulls me in tight, and I grind my ass against his growing erection.

“Fuck. See what you do to me, baby?” he breathes against my neck, sending goose bumps dancing down my arms. Slowly, so damn slowly, he pulls at the strings on one side of my bikini bottoms, just enough to loosen them. “When these come off, what am I going to find?”

My cheeks heat, and warmth unfurls low in my belly as he sucks at the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. Damn. How does he know exactly how to turn me on? My knees buckle, giving away just how incredible that small action makes me feel .

“Oh, you like when I kiss you here?”

With a moan, I reach behind his neck and pull his head closer. Sand collects in my fingernails when I dig into his scalp.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he whispers, kissing behind my ear. He’s two for two when it comes to my erogenous zones. I feel like Monica Gellar in Friends . I can hardly wait for him to get to number seven.

“What was the question?” This man makes me dizzy.

“I said,” he tugs on the other side of my bikini bottoms, leaving the fabric suspended between our bodies and the counter. “What am I going to find between these legs, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? The word pings around in my brain like a bouncy ball for a minute before I decide I like it.

“This,” I pant, tearing at the fabric and tossing it to the floor. Once I’m bare, I grasp his hand and guide it between my legs.

“Just as I suspected.” He smirks over my shoulder, cupping my pussy. With his eyes locked on my core in the mirror, he runs a finger through my slit. “Fucking soaked.”

God, how I’ve missed his filthy mouth.

“Now be my good girl and bend over for me,” he growls.

Damn. I love to take control in the bedroom, but a guy who knows what he wants is hot as hell.

Resting my forearms on the counter, I fold in half, leaving my bottom eager and defenseless.

Ghosting his palms down my back and to my ass, he asks, “You like it rough?” He heard me at the beach, but he’s asking for consent, nonetheless. Another total turn-on.

The second I lift my chin in approval, he pulls back and smacks my ass with a satisfying whack . An instant later, he caresses the tender flesh and squeezes. Then he smacks it again. God damn, the contrast is arousing. I’m writhing with need already, so turned on it takes a moment to realize he’s stopped and he’s now on his knees on the hard tile behind me .

“What are you doing?” I startle, my heart leaping in my chest. “I need to shower. I’m all salty.”

Before I can stand up and pull away, he grasps my cheeks and spreads them like he’s reading his favorite novel. “A little salt is good for my health.”

A shiver sprints along my spine. Never have I ever been in this arrangement. It’s maddening and so fucking hot. I widen my stance in anticipation.

Reaching between my legs from behind, he collects my arousal and rubs at my swollen clit. I buck my hips, but he stills them, pressing his fingertips into my skin. At the first swipe of his tongue, I’m transcended. The juxtaposition of hell yes, I’m so glad we’re doing this and oh shit, I’ll never recover sends a contradictory blast of heat through me.

The sound of Cam devouring me is obscene. The rhythm at which he’s fondling my clit and plundering my pussy with his tongue makes me dizzy.

In a matter of moments, I’m perched on the edge of ecstasy. I’m only a couple of flicks away from rocketing into the abyss. But when I push against Cam for relief, he stills.

What the fuck?

He keeps a firm grip on my hip, but he backs away, and in his place, a rush of cool air greets me.

Oh no, I will not be edged right now.

“Cameron, please .” I’m not above begging. The heat licking up my insides is like magma, ready to erupt.

“I’ll tell you when you can come. Right now, I wanna revel in this pretty little pussy.” He spreads my lips, his thumbs framing and teasing my entrance.

“Please,” I attempt again, my breath shallow and strained.

He plunges two fingers inside me and drags them out with expert intention, then pushes back in—again and again.

“Yes!” I’m panting like an animal in heat; his touch is intoxicating. I’m hanging by a thread, my pussy clenching around his fingers.

When he replaces his fingers with his tongue and tenderly taps my clit with a single finger, I lose it. I come, crying out his name like a prayer.

With delicate kisses planted against my ass, Cam grounds me. And as my heart rate begins to even out, he rises and curls against me like a question mark, his chin resting on the top of my head. His mouth is coated in a layer of my arousal so thick it’s visible in his reflection, yet he doesn’t make a move to wipe it away.

“That was…” I force my breath steady, but I’m shivering through the aftershocks of my orgasm.

In one quick movement, Cam whips me around to face him and pulls me flush against him. Only when we’re face to face does he swipe at his mouth. Then, with a tenderness so at odds with the way he just manhandled me, he drops his lips to mine.

The remnants of my release passed back and forth on our tongues fan the flames still burning inside me, but eventually, I find the strength to tear my mouth from his so I can extricate myself from my bikini top. Without breaking eye contact, I loosen the knot at my neck, then along the center of my back, keeping my eyes locked on Cam’s the whole time. When the fabric tumbles to the tile, he drags a hand down his face and groans.

“Like what you see?” I quirk one brow.

Cupping my breasts, he bows his head and takes my nipple between his teeth. Fuck . The way he tugs sends bolts of desire shooting straight to my core.

“Shower. Now,” I order.

When he pulls back, I drag him by the waistband of his swim trunks across the bathroom, then release them with a snap.

He shucks out of the shorts and follows me into the stall. The initial chill from the rainfall showerhead startles me, and I jolt back, but he’s there to catch me, steadying me around my waist. His hardness juts against my lower back, and an ache beneath my ribs cries out with need.

A need for more.

Pivoting to face him, I rest my hands on his broad shoulders and tip my chin up to soak him in. The water cascades between and around us, and as it heats, steam billows, fogging the glass enclosure. His eyes, hooded and hungry, pause at my lips before trailing down my body, drinking me in.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?”

Besides Millie and the gals at FrenchSHEs, no one has complimented me in such a blatant, heartfelt way in a long time. Come to think of it, I can’t remember a man ever calling me gorgeous. It was always “hot” or “sexy .” Occasionally “beautiful . ” Don’t get me wrong, every one of those adjectives is flattering, but being referred to as gorgeous feels a thousand times more gratifying.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.