Chapter 9
Juli
Five minutes to call a rideshare.
Thirty minutes back to the resort.
Three minutes to my room.
Over the course of the last forty minutes, a barrage of emotions swelled through me. Hunger. Lust. Fear. Desire. Envy. And the one leading the pack—need.
I crave Cameron. In every way. Like I need my next breath. That’s how strong the feeling of want courses through me. My body hums with anticipation and a bit of trepidation.
Is this a mistake? Most definitely.
Am I going to stop it? No way in hell.
Not even the sky threatening to unleash a terrible storm could derail this train of yearning. Not even knowing there’s only tonight. A repeat of a night we shared years ago. Not weighing what it will take to recover from this. Nothing’s stopping this.
The door barely closed behind us, Cameron traps me against the wall. His arms bracket the sides of my face, locking me in place. As if he didn’t, I’d disappear.
No need to worry there, buddy. I ain’t going anywhere.
“We should start with a kiss.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.” To prove myself, I push to tiptoes, meeting him halfway. Or at least part of the way.
His legs widen, his head dips lower, and his arms still surround my face. Our breaths come fast, in tandem with each other, both wanting what’s about to happen. If only one of us would make the first move. Join our lips.
It was like this years ago. As much as he had the upper hand and I had handed control over to him, he still waited for my permission, silently asking how far he could push, how much he could take.
Ever the gentleman, Cameron Fairbanks.
When my toes cramp and I can’t stand it any longer, I reach slightly higher, a mere half an inch away from his lips. And he attacks.
His lips form a seal over mine, taking not only them in a kiss, but all the air from my lungs, too. It doesn’t matter I can’t breathe for the moment. He does it for both of us. Like he’s resuscitating me.
His lips move over mine, his tongue daring to dart inside, dancing with mine. Two partners in a duet, moving in unison, knowing the parts without having practiced.
The lingering flavor of his lunch settles into my mouth, and mixed with the beer and my meal, it’s an interesting combination. But I don’t let it deter me from the task at hand—kissing Cameron back. Being a willing participant and not an observer. Because he’s a better kisser than I remember.
The soft feel of his lips.
The rub of his stubble on my chin.
The way he takes delicate charge of the kiss.
Yeah. Too much.
I rip my lips away, panting to catch my breath, falling back down to the ground. He positions himself, resting his forehead on mine, the greens of his eyes darker around the rims, giving away his arousal. He drops his arms, his one hand tucking a strand of wayward hair behind my ear.
“Breathtaking. Literally.” With his free hand, he reaches for mine, putting it on top of his chest. The organ beats rapidly, mirroring mine.
I accept his compliment with a smile. “I could say the same. Actually, consider this me saying the same.”
“You want to shower or should we be a little messier before getting clean?”
I want what he implies.
“How messy we talking?”
“That’s up to you.”
My arms on his broad chest, I push him away, only able to move him the tiniest bit because his legs are still widely planted on the ground. Also, he moves himself. He attempts to grab me by the waist, and I have to skate around his reach.
“I love how I don’t have to clean up any mess we make. That we can be as messy as we want and someone else will clean the sheets and towels.” It doesn’t directly answer his question, but it hints at it. And I’ll see what he says.
His eyebrows waggle. “I’m on board with this thinking. Want to see how messy we can make the sheets?”
“And ourselves. Then we can get ‘clean’ in the shower.” I glance at the clock. “How much time do you have?”
“For you, darling? My schedule’s wide open.”
My stomach tightens with his words. I think back to the plan I made with Erica for the pool later today. For the life of me, I can’t remember what time we said.
“Is it really going to rain today?”
Frown lines crease his brow. “Supposed to. Why?”
A shit-eating grin grows on my lips. Taking him by the hand, I lead him to my bedroom, stopping at the threshold to state, “If it rains, the pool will be closed.”
Reading my mind, he nods eagerly. “With today’s storm prediction? For sure.”
I drop his hand. “Think you can last longer than the last time, Came?”
He tsks, his head shaking slowly. “My dear Juliana. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got stamina. And to prove it, I bet I can pull two orgasms out of you before I’m even hurting.”
While that sounds hot and all—and definitely to my benefit—I read too much into it. That he won’t be hurting because he’s not aroused. My inner teen, the one who crushed hard, rears her head, brainwashing me into believing that must be true.
“I get the sense I said the wrong thing.” Cameron’s voice saves me from myself, from putting up walls that don’t need to be there. From drowning in unlikely thoughts of me interpreting his words differently than he meant them.
“Two orgasms do sound great,” I start, buying some time to gather my thoughts on what to add.
“There’s a but. I sense a but.”
Ironically, Cameron was always rather intuitive. Especially for a guy.
“But you make it sound like you wouldn’t be affected at all. You know, ‘before I’m even hurting.’”
He ponders my statement, the wheels turning in his head, trying to recall what he said. “Huh. I didn’t mean it like that.” He steps closer, enough to make sure I know he’s affected.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
I can’t help but gaze down. Fourteen years ago, the details of the night we spent together are a little hazy, but I remember he was big. Not my first, Cameron left a lasting impression—both positive and negative.
“All you have to do is ask, Jude. I’ll show you.” His fingers nimbly reach for the zipper of his shorts.
I quickly replace his fingers with mine. “No. Let me.”
As if I had all the time in the world, I delicately unzip the shorts. The button proves to be a little trickier but eventually pops open. A black waistband hides underneath, attached to the only material shielding his erect cock.
Without waiting for consent, I dip my fingers inside, fisting his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze, causing Cameron to suck in a breath before he shoves the cargo shorts down his legs, letting them fall to his ankles. He removes his flip-flops, and soon his shorts make a discarded pile.
As I trace the head, spreading pre-cum onto other parts, his hands find my waist, tugging me closer.
“I’ve wanted to see what’s underneath here all day.
” I begrudgingly let go of his penis. Tenderly, he raises my arms above my head before his fingers trail gently up the sides of my abdomen as he bunches the shirt.
I lose sight of him momentarily, but when my eyes meet his again, he takes in every inch of my skin.
Under the intense scrutiny, my breath hitches.
“This bra does wonders for your breasts.”
“Um, thank you?” I’m not sure how to take a compliment about my breasts. Though if memory serves, the one night we spent together, he was very complimentary about all parts of my body. Every inch he worshipped.
Thoroughly.
“You don’t mind if I free them?”
“Not at all.”
The sentence not completely stated, it doesn’t stop him from reaching around for the back clasp. A second later, my breasts fall out of the cups. He drags the straps down my arms, and tingles erupt everywhere he touches.
One breast in each palm, his fingers explore, the pointers grazing the nipples, causing them to harden.
“Yes.” I don’t realize it’s me voicing the word until it hits my ears.
“Shit.” This time it’s him saying it.
A moment of panic settles in at the curse and with the way he voices it. Having closed, my eyes flutter open. “What’s wrong?”
“Condoms. I don’t have condoms.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” He parrots the phrase from before, but not in a good way this time.
Betraying me, my eyes glance down toward his cock, saluting me.
It’s as big as I remember, veiny but in a good way.
And it may not seem like it is, but I’ve seen some that are not good.
Not in any way. Cameron’s been blessed with both girth and length.
I wasn’t kidding before when I called it “pretty.” Though maybe that’s not the best way to describe a penis. It is a work of art, though.
“That’s gotta hurt,” bursts out of my mouth. “Seems like I’ll have to take care of that in another way.”
As disappointed as I am about not being able to have sex, it’s not like we can’t do other things.
Plenty of other things. I’m all about these other things.
Until we can get condoms, that is. Now that I’ve been reminded of how his cock looks, I need to feel it inside me.
I need him to prove he’s got stamina. As short as he lasted years ago, it was still good.
And I want to give him a chance to make it great.
Even if it’s this one time. It will quell my inner teen fantasy of having Cameron as an adult.
“Your brain is firing on all cylinders. What in the world are you thinking about?”
His question draws me out of the past, back to the present.
“Since you have to already be ‘hurting,’ you might as well keep your word. Though I have little faith you can manage two from me before you explode. Based solely on last time. ‘Cause I didn’t get one.”
His mouth twitches, and he acts before I realize what’s happening. My back hits the softness of the bed as he rips my skirt and undies down my leg.
“Don’t provoke the bear if you’re not prepared for the consequences.”
“Who says I can’t handle the consequences?”