Chapter 6
Shay-Lee
“O h, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed as my eyes flared to the annoyingly tall, tattooed man who’d just walked into my yoga class. It had been two weeks since Camilo began following me around. What started with bumping into me at my regular coffee shop every day went on to my hair salon, the shopping mart near my damn house, my gym, and now my fucking yoga class. I came here to relax my mind and not to be distracted by this pathetic excuse of a man who just winked at me over his shoulder.
Fuck .
Biting my lip, I spread my mat on the wooden floor and got down on my knees while I heard the two girlies beside me giggle at Camilo’s appearance. One of them literally described him as the hottest man she’d ever seen, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. If only she knew he was nothing more than a fucking traitor. As they went on whispering all the things they wanted to do on his face, which even I found wild yet definitely tempting to try, I reminded myself that I shouldn’t fall into his little games. Camilo once claimed he didn’t play games, and yet, that was exactly what the last two weeks had been—one shameless game where he’d desperately tried to test my patience. It was almost as if he wanted me to hate him more than I already did.
“It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to face a smirking Camilo. “It was until two minutes ago.”
He pretended to pout. “Someone woke up on his bad side.”
I forced a smile. “I’m too gorgeous to have a bad side.”
“That’s true.”
Angry that he agreed with me, I huffed, and he grinned.
Idiot .
He placed his mat right next to mine, and as he stretched his stupidly long, yummy arms to roll it down, I averted my eyes. So what if he looked even better than he used to? It wasn’t like I didn’t have my own hot man waiting for me at home. Jordan was just as ripped, if not more, and yet, I found myself unable to look away. Camilo wore a loose tank top that showed his chest whenever he moved and a pair of black running shorts that clung to his thighs. Fucking man-whore . He sure loved showing off those thick quads of his. And that damn new neck tattoo? Fuck . That skull design was so sexy on his neck that all I wanted was to run my tongue along it, from his Adam’s apple down to his jugular and then—
“Lost something?” he asked, and I realized I was staring.
Quickly turning the other way, I huffed. “My patience.”
Camilo snorted a laugh just as the instructor walked into the room, and the class began. For the first half hour, everything went smoothly with no distractions, but then we reached the more advanced part of the class, and Camilo decided to be an ass.
“You’re doing it the wrong way,” he whispered as I did a backbend.
“Shut it,” I hissed.
“I mean it. You need to hold your stomach so you won’t hurt your back.”
I made the mistake of turning to look at him only to see his body, in all of its glory, in the same pose. With his palms and feet flat on the mat, he did a perfect backbend. His tank top, damp with sweat, rolled up his body, showing off his ripped stomach. Now, I was forced to see every one of his abs that flexed as he stretched his body like a fucking gymnast and track those little drops of sweat that rolled along his rigid muscles. What a show-off.
With my concentration broken, I got out of the pose and flopped on my back on the mat. We quickly moved into a monkey pose, which was basically a full split in which you held your arms in front of you in a prayer-like position. Closing my eyes, I took deep, slow breaths, relaxing my mind and reminding myself that Camilo was nothing but white noise. I shouldn’t let him get to me, not after all the work I’d put into getting over him. My breathing helped because I managed to get back into the lesson and focus on each pose until the class was almost done.
Now, sweating my ass off, I was stretching my hands forward in the downward dog pose. I had no idea who named all those poses, but I bet my money they were stoned as fuck. At this point in the class, I was always dripping sweat. Despite people’s beliefs, yoga wasn’t easy at all, and it took a lot of training, both physically and—
“Hey, Shay-Lee,” Camilo whispered, his annoying voice invading my thoughts.
“I’m not listening to you.”
A few more moments of silence passed until he hissed, and I turned to pin him with a harsh look. The second our eyes met, he winked at me, and I was just about to burst with rage when the teacher told us to move into the cobra pose.
With my arms on the mat, I pushed my chest forward and was about to breathe in when he spoke.
“I always loved the way you sweat,” he said, and taken off guard, I almost choked on my own spit.
“You know what I love even more?” he whispered, his voice low so only I could hear. “Licking it off your sexy bod—”
“Oh, just shut the fuck up!” I snapped.
With my attention solely on him, I’d completely missed the fact I’d just screamed my heart out in the middle of the class. Embarrassed, I looked around to see all eyes were on me, then back at Camilo, who was trying to hold back a laugh. My cheeks reddened, and I quickly began gathering my things.
“S-sorry about that,” I apologized to the rest of the class, then got the hell out of that suffocating room.
My body was burning up, not because of my public humiliation but because of Camilo. Stupid Camilo, who had made it his life’s mission to get on my nerves. My hands trembled with anger, and I increased my steps to get to my car as fast as possible. It was still beyond me how he’d just popped back into my life as if he hadn’t disappeared like a ghost four years ago. On top of it all, his audacity to pretend it would all be as it was drove me out of my mind.
“Yo, Shay-Lee.”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw Camilo running after me. Gritting my teeth together, I looked straight ahead and walked toward my car faster, which was already in my line of sight. I pulled out my keys, but because of how much I was shaking, I dropped them.
“Shit,” I swore and quickly picked them up. Nearly at my car, I reached for the door and opened it, only for Camilo to slam it back before bucking me against it.
“Didn’t you hear me calling for you?” he asked in that sexy drawl of his, the warmth of his breath hitting my nape.
My hair stood on end, and taking a deep breath, I turned around and shoved his chest.
“Fuck off!”
He grabbed my wrist and held me close.
“Would love to do just that. Your place or mine?”
His dark eyes studied me carefully, reminding me of all those hours I used to spend staring into them. Standing this close, I noticed he no longer smelled of cigarettes. Instead, his breath had a hint of cherries? Caught off guard, I watched him lick his lips before he cocked his head down. I looked aside just in time to dodge the kiss, and his mouth brushed my cheek, his touch burning me alive. My legs weakened at his proximity, and I was left breathless until my sanity returned to me.
Without thinking twice, I bucked my knee into his crotch, not being shy with the amount of force I put into the hit. A string of curses left Camilo as he moved his hands to cover his groin at the same time he bent down, shrieking in pain. He deserved that .
“You little fucker,” he hissed, pressing the base of his palms to where I’d just kneed him while tears glittered in his eyes.
Feeling pleased, I lifted my chin proudly. “Keep following me around, and the next time, I’ll rip off your dick.” I smirked. “I admit it would be a loss for humanity, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”
Still wheezing through his nose, Camilo looked up at me. “You’re going to pay for that.”
I bent down to eye level with him, then cupped his jaw and squeezed him hard until he winced. “Believe it or not, sweetheart, but I think I’ll be able to afford it.” Letting go of him at once, I got inside my Bugatti. The sound of the engine coming to life was pretty fucking sweet, and I drove off there, leaving him behind, satisfied with the idea I’d hurt him. If Camilo thought he could mess with me, he probably forgot I was a master when it came to playing games. What was more, I was a brutal player who refused to lose, even to him.
Erase that.
Especially to him.
My phone tinged when a message came in. Since I’d stopped at a red light, I checked to see who it was from. An unknown number had sent me a picture, and I was stupid enough to open it. My cheeks heated up immediately as my arousal kicked in at the image Camilo sent of his strong, veiny hand grabbing himself over his running shorts. After gaping at the picture for a good minute, I read the text he’d added.
Now he needs a kiss to make the pain go away 3.
My dick jerked in my pants, and I had to squeeze myself to make it calm the fuck down. I hated that this part betrayed me, yet again . I’d hardly been able to function sexually since my attack. Sure, sometimes I managed to get it up, but sex was hardly a part of my life anymore, and yet, all it took was one stupid picture from this traitor, and my dick was all but hard and ready to go. Pissed beyond words, I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. “Two can play this game, motherfucker,” I muttered, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. “Just wait and see, Camilo Goméz. I will fucking demolish you.”