Chapter 43 Emily
EMILY
The soft rush of water over rocks and the occasional bird call broke the silence. I’d claimed this spot three weeks ago, tucked away down a dirt road that barely anyone used. It was perfect for painting without interruption.
My brush moved across the canvas to add depth to the water’s reflection, but my mind refused to settle on the landscape. It kept drifting to Cam’s text.
Working nearby. Want company for lunch?
I’d told him where I was and he’d said he’d be there in thirty.
That was twenty-eight minutes ago.
A low current of anticipation hummed under my skin. Deliciously wicked. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Cam looked at me when I was tied up for him. Or the way I felt when I stopped thinking and just let myself be.
I wanted more of that. Needed it.
The rumble of an engine made my pulse leap. I turned with my paintbrush still in hand as Cam’s truck rolled to a stop in the grass ten feet away.
He climbed out with a paper bag in hand, and my mouth went dry.
The man looked so fucking hot with his jeans hanging low on his hips and his dark blue t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. His hair was slightly mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it. My fingers itched to do the same.
He walked toward me with that easy confidence that made my stomach flip. When he reached me, he threaded his fingers into my hair, pulling just tight enough that I had to tilt my head back.
“Hey,” he said, voice low.
“Hey yourself.”
Then he kissed me. Slow. Deep. Like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, I was breathless.
“Missed you,” he murmured against my lips.
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“Still missed you.” He smiled and stepped back. “Come on, I brought lunch.”
“Oh great, because I’m starving.”
We settled on the blanket I’d spread out earlier. He unpacked two massive sandwiches wrapped in paper.
We ate, but the flavor barely registered. I was hyperaware of him beside me. The warmth of his arm brushing mine. The flex of his forearms constantly drawing my eye. The memory of what those hands had done to me last time we were together played on a loop in my head.
We were completely alone out here. The trees blocked us from the road, and the river curved away on the other side. No one was coming. Could we…
I set down my half-eaten sandwich, heat pooling low in my belly as the thought took hold.
Cam must have noticed the shift because he turned to look at me, eyes dark and curious.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, you know, just…”
He raised a brow. “Tell me.”
“I was thinking about back verandas, recliners and…”
His jaw tightened. The look on his face said I’d just flipped a switch.
“Yeah?”
“Soooo.” I leaned in closer. Close enough to feel the heat coming off his body. “You got any rope in that truck?”
“I’m a mover.” His voice dropped lower. Rougher. “I’ve always got rope in my truck.”
My whole body lit up, but I somehow managed to sound calm. “That’s great, because there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m on birth control.”
The air between us turned electric.
Cam’s eyes darkened to almost black, his breathing changing. He stared at me for a long moment, as my words sank in.
Something predatory slid across his face.
Something that made my thighs clench.
“Emily.” My name came out raspy, nearly a growl.
“Yes, Cam?” I sounded amazingly calm, despite the fire that was melting me from the inside out.
“You have five seconds to get naked.” He stood, his gaze raking over me. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
My breath caught and I was so hot I could barely move.
“Five.”
Oh god. He was serious.
“Four.”
I scrambled to my feet, my hands flying to the hem of my shirt.
“Three.”
I pulled it over my head, dropping it on the blanket beside my easel.
“Two.”
Bra next. Then my hands fumbled with the button on my jeans. I shoved them down my hips along with my underwear, stumbling slightly as I kicked them off along with my shoes.
“One.”
I straightened, naked in the full afternoon sun. Every rational thought in my head scattered.
This was insane. We were outside. Anyone could come by.
But the way Cam looked at me? I didn’t fucking care.
He closed the distance between us in two strides and crashed his lips to mine.
His mouth was hot and demanding. One hand cupped the back of my head while the other slid down my back to my ass, squeezing.
He kissed me like he was starving for it. Like he couldn’t get enough.
When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged. “Wait here.”
He walked to his truck and opened the back to grab a coil of rope.
“Now come here.”
He led me to the front of his truck. The metal grill was warm from the engine, and I could smell motor oil and heated metal. He positioned me with my back against it, the warmth seeping through to my skin.
“Arms up.” His voice was deep, commanding. “Spread them.”
I lifted my arms, stretching them out to either side. He guided each wrist to the horizontal bars of the grill, and I wrapped my fingers around the metal.
Then stood there, watching me as he worked the rope through his hands.
“You tell me if it’s too much.” He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. “Understood?”
“Yes.”
The rope came around my left wrist first. He wound it carefully, his gaze never leaving my face. It was working rope, rougher than the soft cotton he’d used before. Somehow that made it more thrilling. Not too tight, but firm enough that I felt it. Felt the weight of what I was giving him.
Control. Trust.
He secured it to the grill, then moved to my right wrist. The same careful attention. The same deliberate movements. When he was done, I tested the bonds gently.
I was completely at his mercy.
“How does that feel?” His hands settled on my hips, thumbs tracing small circles against my skin.
“Good.” My voice was high, breathless. “Really good.”
“Good.”
His hands slid up my sides, over my ribs, brushing the undersides of my breasts before moving back down. Exploring. Learning every curve while I stood there unable to do anything but feel it.
Then he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Cam, what are you—”
“Spread your legs.” He looked up at me. The heat in his eyes seared me.
Jesus fuck.
I widened my stance, my grip tightening on the grill. The metal warmed further under my palms.
He ran his hands up the fronts of my thighs, slow and deliberate, making me shiver. He traced patterns on my skin, his touch light and teasing, getting closer to where I needed him but not quite there yet.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
His fingers finally reached my center, parting me gently. One finger slid through my wetness, circling but not pressing, just exploring. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering.
“Already so wet for me.” His voice was raspy. He stroked me again, maddeningly slow. “I love how responsive you are.”
Then his mouth was on me.
I gasped, my head falling back. “Oh god.”
He made a sound of approval, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me steady. I forced my head back up, so I could see him. Watching the way he worked me with his tongue made every nerve ending fire at once.
His tongue circled my clit, light at first, teasing. Then firmer. More insistent.
I pulled at the ropes. I needed something to hold on to. Something to anchor me against the sensation building low in my belly. The knots held firm and kept my wrists exactly where he’d put them.
“Please.” The word came out broken. Desperate. “Please, I need...”
He knew what I needed. His mouth sealed over my clit and he sucked, his tongue flicking in a rhythm that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
The orgasm slammed through me. I cried out, my body convulsing as pleasure rolled through me in waves.
My eyes locked on his. He watched me fall apart, and that connection made the climax even more overwhelming.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t let up. He worked me through it until I was shaking.
Until I was making sounds I didn’t recognize.
When I finally came down, gasping for air, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh and stood, his body pressing against mine.