For the Plot (All for Love #1)

Chapter 27

27

Josefine

Baby, you’re a fucking queen.

The giant smile that splits my face can’t be tamed. With an audible exhale, I relax into Cam’s embrace and loop my arm around his waist, my bare breasts resting against his hard abdomen. “Good,” I whisper.

He swirls lazy patterns along my heated skin, teasing the side of my tit. Then he pulls back a little and reaches for the phone on the bedside table.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling room service. You need new sheets.”

He cleans up in the bathroom while I slip back into my sundress and wait for room service. Thankfully he comes out just as they knock, and I replace him in the bathroom. I do not need to see the look on the housekeeper’s face when they replace our sex-damp sheets.

When I return, Cam—with his hat returned to his head—is sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony, lean legs stretched out in front of him. His laptop is open on the table.

As I approach, I take in his background image. It’s from our hike the other day, but it’s a picture I haven’t seen before. A panoramic view of the abandoned monastery, with the sea peeking above the rocky horizon. My back is to the camera and I’m off to the side a bit, but my head is slightly turned and my smile is visible. This so doesn’t make me feel things deep in my belly. No sirree, not at all.

I snag two water bottles from the mini fridge before plopping down in the vacant chair at the outdoor table. Thank goodness the balcony is shaded, because when Cam showed up, I abandoned my phone and laptop completely in favor of our little endorphins-inducing creativity boost.

When I check my phone, I find three notifications. All texts from Brooks.

Brooks

Yo, Beck! Good to hear from you

Thought you might have run off with a Greek god

Now *that* would have been good ‘for the plot’ winking face

I chuckle under my breath.

“What’s so funny?” Cam asks, eagerness flashing in his eyes.

Damn, this man is beautiful from every angle. Above me, below me, beside me. I’ll take him any way I can get him.

I set my phone in my lap and shift so I’m looking at him head-on. “My writing partner, Brooks.”

His brow, the one with the scar, raises in question, and his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything.

“He lives in LA.”

At that comment, his shoulders visibly relax, as if knowing Brooks lives thousands of miles from me is a relief. “How long have you two been…”

“Writing together?”

“Yeah.” He exhales and scratches at the scruff on his jaw.

“A couple of years. We met through Tyler.”

It’s subtle, but he bristles at the sound of my ex’s name.

“Brooks was working as a songwriter then, but he’s been trying to break into screenwriting. He’s really the only writing friend I have. We used to meet at a coffee shop not far from my apartment and write side by side. We’d proofread for each other, bounce ideas back and forth, or just commiserate.”

“Sounds like a really great friend,” he says, his expression soft and warm.

I shoot off a text to Brooks, hinting at the plot twist of my own life I can’t wait to dive into with him, then set my phone on the table.

Cam clears his throat and removes his hat. For a moment, I’m dumbstruck watching the way he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“How are you so confident in bed?” He nods at the open patio door. “That sensory-deprivation shit was one of the hottest things I’ve ever done. But—and please don’t take this the wrong way—you’re so young. How are you so…”

“Were you going to say experienced ?”

Kind eyes meet mine. “Maybe?” His voice quivers with uncertainty. “Have you been with a lot of guys? It’s okay if you have. I’m not judging.”

Wow, a guy who isn’t judging my count. That’s refreshing.

Not that he deserves an explanation, but he’s evidently earned it.

“Not really. I had sex for the first time in high school. Then I was with Tyler. Then you last year.” An easy smile plays at the corners of my mouth. “I hooked up with a couple of guys not long after I moved to New York, but I haven’t been with anyone in several months.”

Cam lights up in a smile, but he quickly tries to cover it up by swiping a hand down his face. “Really?” he asks. “So how are you so confident?”

My cheeks heat, but I let out a laugh. Confidence or not, that answer is easy. “Life’s too short to be having terrible sex. Did I tell you Millie works as a narrator for a spicy audio stories app? I get a lot of my ideas there. And to be honest,” I thread the ends of my hair around my fingers. “I’ve never done what we just did either.”

“Seriously?” he sputters. “Damn . ”

I lift my chin just a little. Maybe I’m more confident than I give myself credit for. “Can I tell you something without you getting all weird or judgy or cocky about it?”

“Of course.” He drops an elbow to the tabletop and rests his cheek on his fist.

“I thought I was having good sex when I was with Tyler.”

To his credit, Cam doesn’t flinch when I mention his name this time.

“I climaxed some of the time. For a long time, I felt like that was enough. Every woman’s experience with orgasms is different, so I didn’t think much about it. And when I didn’t get off with him, I’d get off by myself later. But when I met you? That night?” I press my lips together and drink in the man beside me. “I realized what I was missing out on.”

He sits up straight, his face alight and his lips tipped up.

“Hey, I said not to get cocky.” I laugh.

He leans in and nudges me with his shoulder. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Something primal took over that first time we were together,” I continue. “I felt bold, brazen. You didn’t know who I was, and for the first time, I realized I could be anyone I wanted to be. So I went for it. I chose to channel the woman buried somewhere inside me who asks for what she wants in the bedroom. The woman who calls the shots, who presses buttons.” What I don’t tell him is that our first night together felt natural, and with every encounter with him since, I’m discovering more about my authentic sexual self.

I swallow thickly, choking back the fuzzy sensation coursing through me. The one I fear means that this may be more than about sexual freedom. I can’t go down the relationship path again. This has to be solely about sex. And sex that doesn’t breathe past this island. But damn if I don’t melt a little when Cam, with hands locked at the back of his neck, elbows pointing out with those juicy biceps on display, exhales. “You’re like a dream come true.”