CHAPTER 5 #3
I had just pressed play on our selected movie for the evening, Hocus Pocus, when I noticed Cam repeatedly glancing to where I had yeeted my dildo into the corner of the living room.
What it had managed to take out was a thrifted ghost holding a cat painting on the wall which had crashed into a stack of books on a corner table creating a domino effect mess that I would have to clean up later.
Or forget about. That was also entirely plausible.
It had thankfully stopped vibrating, so maybe the batteries had died.
I decided that was a future problem and proceeded to ignore its presence. But Cam clearly hadn’t.
“Okay, go ahead,” I told him as I picked up my third slice of pizza. “I know you want to ask about it.” When he looked hesitant, I insisted, “I won’t try to run away again, scout’s honor.”
I even held up my two fingers across my chest. Was that the right gesture? Eh, fuck it.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he began then bluntly asked, “but, why do you have dildos in your spell room?”
I studied my piece of pizza, probably a little more intently than I needed to.
“I get bored, sometimes,” I admitted. “And that sofa is really comfy. It happens a lot when I stay up with my experiments all night and just crash in there. And when there’s a...
” I cleared my throat. “A particular itch that needs scratched, I’m too lazy to go up to my bedroom. I honestly forgot they were in there.”
He hummed thoughtfully as if my explanation was entirely logical and finished off his slice. I watched transfixed as he licked the pizza sauce from his thumb, the image of his tongue flicking out much more tantalizing than it really should have been. I swallowed hard.
“Makes sense,” he said.
And that was that. He didn’t tease me, didn’t say that I shouldn’t use those kinds of things. He didn’t shame me or make me feel like any less of a person for what I liked. And that alone softened something inside of me. Some knot of insecurity that had formed over the years.
I could feel it loosening under his gentle gaze and simple words.
When we had eaten nearly half of our pizzas each, I paused the movie as we rose to put the leftovers away. With no background noise, I could distinctly hear the steady thumping coming from my spell room.
“You left your arm in the drawer, didn’t you?” I asked with a flick of my brow, lips tilting upward.
Cam shrugged, tossing his plate into the garbage. “Less chance it can get into trouble that way.”
I chuckled at that but followed the noise out of the kitchen and down the hall. The closer we got, the louder it grew, almost desperate. Poor thing. Striding over, I pulled the drawer open but wasn’t at all prepared for the hand to literally launch itself at me.
I squawked as it clung to the front of my shirt, and I stumbled back, falling directly into Cam’s chest. His strong arm quickly banded around my middle to steady me and I went stiff as a board, going hot and cold all over because that was definitely his fingertips lightly grazing the skin just above the waistband of my jeans.
When something of mine immediately twitched with interest, I practically jumped out of his touch.
The arm was squirming in my grasp as I whirled just in time to see a playful smirk gracing Cam’s handsome face.
Well, fuck me.
My attention was diverted, however, as the arm seemed to realize who was holding it. It then decided it wasn’t going anywhere and held onto the collar of my sweater for dear life.
No matter how I tugged, the only thing I managed to accomplish was stretching out the fabric. I gave up fairly quickly because, well, this was one of my favorite sweaters, damnit. I huffed in exasperation,
“Nope. Nuh uh. None of this.” I glared down at the arm clinging to me. “We’re putting you back on Cam and that’s final.”
When it didn’t budge, I changed tactics.
“Fine, I’ll just find Cam a new arm. Then I’ll have to return you to the morgue and Alice will cremate you. Is that what you want?”
It visibly flinched, reluctantly loosening its hold on me. I felt kind of bad threatening it like that, but I sighed in relief when it released its death grip.
“Good boy,” I praised it.
I heard Cam’s breath catch and glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched me. I tucked that little nugget of information that that reaction gave me away for later.
With a gentle pat, I set the hand down onto the side table then slid the drawer shut, ignoring the dildo and lube still tucked within.
Cam was still watching me, and I rolled my eyes with a laugh, “Well, sit down, will you?”
He obediently sat, a little too quickly if I was being honest, and I had to resist the urge to say “good boy” just to see what he would do.
I could feel his eyes tracking me as I moved to the doorway to pick up the sewing kit and books I had dropped. Stacking the volumes neatly on the desk, I sat beside him and got to work on Cam’s arm.
“Tell me if it hurts at all,” I told him and he nodded easily.
He held the arm steadily for me as I reattached it. I weaved my magic as I worked and, after a few passes of the needle, I glanced up.
“You doing okay?”
My voice was soft with concern. It was very different doing this when he was awake, and I was worried about hurting him, but he didn’t seem bothered by it even as I continued working.
And I could feel his eyes watching me the entire time.
When I was done, I smiled in triumph. The stitching was much neater this time, and far more secure.
With a parting healing spell, I patted his thigh as I stood with a groan.
“There, all done. How’s it feel?”
He flexed his fingers and twisted his wrist experimentally then beamed at me,
“It’s great. Thank you, Victor.”