For the Plot (All for Love #1)

Chapter 33

33

Cameron

After the long trip home, the last thing I imagined coming home to was a beautiful woman beneath my sheets. And her, um, toy. A very impressive toy, I might add. Joey’s eyes ping back and forth, following along with the game of Hot Potato I’m playing with her vibrator—her still slick vibrator. Just the thought of her sliding it inside her pussy makes my dick twitch.

Shifting on the mattress, I scan the gorgeous girl before me. Her long hair is tousled and tangled at the ends, just how it looks post-sex.

“Is that my shirt?” The sheet has pooled at her waist, but even in the dark, it’s obvious it is.

She dips her chin and surveys herself but doesn’t respond.

I lean forward, closing the distance between us. “Why are you wearing my shirt, Joey?”

Still averting her gaze, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and worries it.

“Fine. Next question.” I twirl the vibrator between us but pull it away when she makes a grab for it. “What were you doing with this in my bed, Josefine?” I draw out her formal name like a song.

She gulps, but she still won’t look at me.

“Eyes on me.”

Obediently, she drags her focus up my chest, then my neck. She pauses on my lips for a beat before meeting my eyes. Does she feel what I feel? Heat radiating between us like the warmth of the sun we left behind in Greece.

“I—I—” she stammers. “I couldn’t sleep.”

If I had to guess, that’s not the whole truth, but I’ll leave it for now.

“So you thought you’d, what? Relax a little?” What’s got her so tense?

She nods. “Mm-hmm. But then someone interrupted me.” She pouts. She fucking pouts.

Damn, I want to nip at those pillowy lips.

“So you didn’t get to finish?” I duck my head and inch closer.

Dropping her attention to the sheet covering her legs, she shakes her head.

“That’s a pity. What are we going to do about it?”

“We?”

“I’m here now.” I sit a little straighter. “This is my room, and you’re in it. So, yes— we . I can’t very well let you go back to bed unsatisfied. What kind of host would I be?”

She’s already trembling with anticipation, and her breathing has sped up.

Steadying her with a hand at the back of her neck, I ask, “Did you miss me, sweetheart?”

She locks those dark eyes on me now. I lean in, lips so close to hers that her minty breath breezes over them with every pant. She licks her lips, and the tip of her tongue grazes my mouth—whether on purpose or accident, I’m not sure. All I know is I want to claim her .

She gasps. “No.”

No?

A pit forms in my stomach and I pull back.

“I mean, we can’t. I can’t.” She places a hand on my chest, then immediately retracts it, like I’ve stung her. “Cameron…”

Cameron? What happened to Cam ?

Her posture is so rigid that if I were to touch her, I’m afraid she’d poke me with poisonous quills.

“Look,” she sighs, drawing her legs underneath her. “What we had in Greece was…”

Amazing. Incredible. Sexy. Hot. Sexy. Hot as fuck. Magical.

With a faraway look in her eyes, she wrings her hands in her lap. “That has to stay in Greece. We agreed, remember?”

We agreed? No. I only went along with it because I was desperate to have her in any way I could. I cover her hands, stopping her fidgeting. “Joey.”

She pulls away quickly and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, her brows drawn low, like it pains her to turn me down.

I’m right there with you .

I want to tell her that I haven’t been able to shake my thoughts of her. That I burned with jealousy when I pictured another guy holding her at night. That I can’t shake the ache behind my ribs each time I think about wrapping my arms around her and holding her until morning. I want to tell her that I get drunk on dreams of her every night and wake up feeling hungover.

I can’t get you out of my fucking brain , I want to scream.

Instead, I keep my words under lock and key. I’m not giving up, but I won’t push her. Not right now, at least.

Standing, I pull in a deep breath, will my dick to calm down, and change the subject. “It’s late. I need to shower.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she says, dragging a pillow and throw blanket off the bed .

“No.” I cup her elbow, halting her. “Go back to bed. I’ll take the sofa.”

“But this is your room,” she protests, narrowing her eyes on me.

“I’m hungry,” I tell her. “I’ll probably eat something before I go to bed, and I don’t want to keep you up.” It’s not a complete lie. I am hungry, even if what I’m craving isn’t food. “Please.” It’s not a suggestion.

I step away, my body buzzing with lust and defeat all at once, and shuffle into the en suite bathroom.