18. Kameron
18
KAMERON
I let the water cascade down my body, trying to sober me up with a cool shower before I get out and face plant on the bed.
And if Kris knows what’s good for him, he’ll be outside on the deck sleeping with the bears for all I care.
I get that he’s never really been a super affectionate person in public, but he really didn’t have to jump away from me like I have the plague.
Maybe it was me that kissed him, but at least I had a lot to drink tonight and can use it as an excuse even though I couldn’t take it anymore between us. His touches all night long have been teasing, and the two of us are so hot and cold it’s impossible not to combust at some point.
Shutting the shower off, I twist all the water out of my hair and open the shower to find a towel.
Shit.
We’re out of towels, how is this even possible?
Oh, I know. Kris.
He likes to use fifteen towels for every shower. We need one to lay on the floor, one to dry off with, one to wrap around his waist. Which means by the time I need one they’re all down in the laundry room.
And I don’t have my clothes. They’re still sitting on my open suitcase because I was so flustered with him I just needed to get away.
Now I’m naked, wet, and have to pray he isn’t in the room so I can sneak my clothes and figure out how to dry off.
I grab the doorknob and freeze, taking a deep breath. Give me just a little luck here.
Slowly twisting, I crack the door and peek into the bedroom.
Nothing. Okay.
“Kris,” I say, and when I hear no response, I’m certain I’m in the clear and swing the door open.
I’m halfway across the room when I hear him and freeze.
He looks up just as his last foot hits the landing, and our eyes meet.
That same sizzle that’s always there ignites when he slowly lets his gaze drop and takes in every inch of me.
You know how your head and your heart always do different things? Well, my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders right now because I don’t even attempt to cover up. I’m frozen standing in front of him, as naked as the day the Lord made me.
He clears his throat, his eyes snapping back to mine before he sits what he’s carrying in his hand on the dresser next to the entryway. Pain meds and a Gatorade.
Something in my chest tightens at the gesture.
“You know, Kam, you always were a fucking fantasy.” His voice is rough, but it runs over my skin like silk with his words. “And seeing you dripping wet from your shower, without you even trying to cover yourself from me…” He shakes his head, a wicked smirk slipping across his lips. “Well, baby, all I can say is good girl.” His lips are directly in front of my nose now, and my thighs press together at his word choice.
I’d told him one day how turned on I get hearing book characters call their ladies good girls in the bedroom, and that’s been one thing he’s always used when I’m naked in front of him.
Not that this has happened recently.
“What’s wrong?” Humor lacing his voice makes me roll my eyes. “Dripping somewhere else?”
“No.” I finally find my voice. I can’t let him have complete satisfaction.
“Oh, yeah? If I touch you right now, what am I going to find?” He pauses, his hand lifting and coming to my chin so that I’m staring into his eyes. “Huh?” His hand stretches around my neck before his palm slides further down my chest, right between my breasts. “I bet your pussy is dripping for me.”
I swallow, struggling to find my words with his filthy ones lingering in the air between us. His hand twists over my stomach before dropping lower until he cups my sex in his hand. The heat of his hand has my body instinctively leaning into his touch.
Fucking traitor.
“Dripping,” he whispers half a second before his mouth slams over mine.
Two fingers slide inside me, and I fight hard, I really do, but my head falls back on my shoulders with a pleasured moan slipping past my lips. I feel Kris lean into me, pressing a tender kiss to my jaw before bringing his lips to my ears.
“Fucking soaked.”
My pussy clenches around his hand, and there’s no mistaking his smile against my skin. His fingers curl, my hands move to grip his shoulders as he brings me to the edge.
“Please,” I beg, needing more.
To hell with the promises I made myself. I want him, even though it’s a bad idea to want anything with him.
He captures my lips, taking my breath completely as my orgasm barrels through me and his name falls from my lips in a cry.
God, why does he have to be so fucking good with his hands?
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, slowly pulling his fingers from me.
I can’t speak, there are no words that I can coherently form anyways.
“I can’t believe I’m about to fucking say this.” His other hand releases my waist, and moves to the back of his head where he scratches before making eye contact with me.
My stomach drops.
“I can’t sleep with you tonight.”
A cold bucket of water might as well have been thrown on me. My skin that was on fire a few seconds ago is suddenly covered in goosebumps and the chill that runs through me is much different than the one I just experienced.
His eyes widen, and when I take a step away from him he stands in front of me, blocking me. “Let me explain. Shit. I’m seriously fucking everything up with you tonight.” His hand runs over his face. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, because trust me, that’s the only damn thing on my mind tonight. But you’ve had a lot to drink, and I’m not convinced that you won’t already regret everything that we’ve done so far.”
I suck in a breath, still feeling the sting of rejection, but at least it isn’t as bad as twenty seconds ago.
“Okay.” My chest is rising and falling and I realize how awkward this entire situation has become since I am still standing completely naked.
“Let me get you a towel.” He takes off downstairs, while I grab the clothes on top of my suitcase and put them in the bathroom.
I’ll need another shower now anyways.
Starting the water, I adjust the temperature and turn to find Kris standing in the doorway with one hand holding the towel in front of him and the other covering his eyes.
Like he didn’t just have those same fingers all over my naked body.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to hide my smile. Sometimes he’s such a dork, and it makes me forget we don’t necessarily like each other.
“I’m going to head down to bed, need anything?” he asks, eyes still covered.
“No, I’m good. Thank you, and goodnight.”
He nods before turning and pulling the door shut behind him.
I step back into the shower, washing myself carefully and letting the hot water warm me back up as I think about the events of the day.
Naturally I broke every rule I set for myself this weekend on the first damn day.
Of course.
But it’s Kris. And he’s always been good about making me lose my mind. Which is exactly what I’m doing, losing my ever loving mind on this trip.
I mean, I knew it was going to be hard. Being on a road trip with your ex that didn’t exactly end in an amicable split wouldn’t be easy, obviously. But whew, I didn’t realize I’d give in and let him fondle me on the first fucking night.
But here we are.
Mindless.
By the time the water runs cold, I figure it’s long enough that Kris is asleep down stairs and I don’t have the mortification of him seeing me naked twice in one night.
I make quick work of drying off and getting my clothes on. A simple pajama tank and short set from Walmart, nothing expensive or overly sexy but it’s the most comfortable.
Shutting the light off, I slowly open the door and peek outside, but it’s pitch black and Kris is nowhere to be seen. He’s more than likely asleep, like I figured he would be.
I’m halfway to the bed when a strike of lightning lights up the sky outside the bedroom window, followed by the loud boom of thunder, and my knees go weak. Storms terrify me, and always have. When I was younger, we had such a severe storm that a tree branch went through my bedroom ceiling. Ever since then, storms cripple me.
The sound of cracking branches outside has my chest tightening.
“Kris,” I try to yell, but it’s covered by the sound of thunder. The thought of having to walk down the stairs in the dark during a storm is even more terrifying, but what if I’m standing here when a branch comes through the roof?
I’m struggling to catch my breath, and feel my panic attack moving in. I try breathing out my nose, and not paying attention to how dark it is when my foot hits the first step to take me downstairs.
“Kris,” I say again, halfway down the stairs.
“What?”
I see his figure rise up from the couch.
“What’s wrong?” He runs a hand over his face before focusing on me. Another boom of thunder rattles the cabin, and I scream. “Ah, shit.”
He moves quicker than the lightning and wraps me in his arms.
“It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you.” He holds me tight against his chest.
I focus on the beat of his heart to take my mind off what could be happening outside of the cabin. The last thing I remember is the feel of his lips pressing into my hair as another strike of lightning lit up the kitchen.