Chapter 13
Juli
Wednesday evening bleeds into Thursday afternoon.
Once we made it back to the resort, we agreed we were only leaving the premises in an emergency. Anything else we needed could be delivered.
I talked Cameron into hitting up The Drift again for Bushwackers.
He wouldn’t allow me to have two, but once mine slid down easily, he passed the rest of his to me.
By the time we got back to the room, my body was humming.
And I needed release in a bad way. Damn bastard kept me on edge for a good thirty minutes before he finally gave in and let me come.
I’m not complaining. It was almost worth the wait.
We ordered breakfast to be delivered from his favorite mom-and-pop shop with the agreement we would hit up the buffet on Sunday morning. Again, not complaining about the delicious chocolate chip and walnut pancakes he fed me in bed.
This vacation is turning out to be so much more than attending my friend’s wedding and catching up with my brother. I’m living in the moment and soaking up every day I get with Cameron one day at a time.
“Oh no he didn’t.”
I’m lounging on the bed, waiting for Cameron to be ready to go to the pool.
He’s in the living room taking care of a few work things.
I can’t be mad since I all but commanded him to take the days off to spend with me.
On such short notice, it’s hard to leave everything for the next week.
Especially when he’s literally still on the premises.
“Who is he and what’s he doing?” Cameron materializes in the doorway to the bedroom.
He went casual today—navy blue graphic tee and his board shorts for the pool.
His stubble is a bit rougher than yesterday, and to say I’m excited about what it will do to my thighs is an understatement.
He finger-combed his hair a few times, and I’m digging the look.
“Preston. He says he’s ‘too busy’ for dinner tonight. Why is he like this? Does he not know how to take a break?”
“He always finds time to surf.” He doesn’t mean the comment so callously, but the implied meaning comes shining through—he makes time for what he considers a priority. “Maybe you want to—”
I hold up a hand to cut off what he’s going to say.
“I won’t be joining him at that hour. I added it to his calendar and everything,” I whine.
Before I have a chance to pull the attitude back, my phone rings.
“Think you can get your brother not to cancel dinner on me?” Oops.
Guess Elisa is getting my attitude, too.
“Hiya, sis. What’s shaking? How’s Whispering Tide?” Her upbeat tone should piss me off, but it does the exact opposite. I sit up on the bed to talk to my sister.
“Gorgeous. I may never come home.”
I haven’t given it much thought, but now there’s more than the exquisite resort garnering my consideration for why I should stay.
“I’m glad you’re having fun. Run into Cameron yet?”
My eyes meet the man in question. “You could say that.”
“He still hot?”
“Extremely.” I high-five myself for not putting this call on speakerphone.
“You finally tap him?”
“Um, yeah. That has definitely happened.” Heat flushes my cheeks, and Cameron smirks, having an inkling of what I must be referring to.
“You go, girl. Was it everything you imagined it to be?”
With the ten-year age gap between us, she was too young to know how I truly felt about Cameron. But one time, she plied me with alcohol, and I spilled a lot of secrets. Apparently, I was sober enough not to tell her about our fling years before, but she got a lot of other details.
“Affirmative.”
“That’s my girl.” She often forgets she’s the younger sister. Unless she plays the “baby of the family” card. Which is more often than not.
I chuckle, the noise a surprise to Cameron, who’s joined me on the bed. “What’s up with you? Why are you calling me on my vacation?” Hopefully, my joking tone doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Checking in with you. It’s weird not to speak with you for a few days.”
I’d say the same, but when she’s on vacation, god forbid I interrupt her with something so mundane as “I miss you.” Like my parents, I’ve learned to cater to her, only perpetuating the problem.
Elisa and I speak for about ten minutes. Cameron takes my bare foot in his hands, massaging it. I stifle my moans, but Elisa sees through it.
“He’s there now?”
“Yep.”
“Awesome. You deserve some fun, Juli. I’m happy for you.”
“Glad you approve,” I reply sarcastically.
“Tell Preston I say hello. If you ever track him down.”
“Oh, I am. The man is not darting away this easily. Love you, Lissy.” She never bothers to say goodbye, so I hit the red button to end the call. All too soon, a deep moan escapes from my mouth. “Why are you so good at this?”
“Massage lessons at the spa.” His tone seems serious, and I can’t tell if he’s lying or not.
“They offer those?” I ask curiously. Though I’m much happier on the receiving end of a massage than giving.
“If you know the boss, sure.”
Another moan expels, the end of the word drawing out as he digs his knuckles into the bottom of my foot. “Aren’t you the boss?” I feel like there was some mention of his overseeing the spa. That’s why we stopped in there yesterday, right?
“She is paying attention.” Having fluttered closed from pure bliss, my eyes soar open. The sexiest smirk displays on Cameron’s lips. One I both want to wipe off and hope to see forever.
“You have a lot of moving parts to your job. Sue me for not remembering them all.”
“Says the girl who stares at good-looking men all day long.”
I go to refute, but I can’t. However, his argument is weak and not nearly the same as what I said, but his fingers ply another moan out of me. Man, this foot massage is almost as good as sex.
“If this is as good as sex, I’m doing the sex wrong.”
His words catch me off guard, and I try to figure out how he read my mind. Unless I said the words aloud, which wouldn’t be the first time.
“You’re not doing the sex wrong. You’re doing this so right. And besides, I said almost.”
Cameron switches to the other foot, giving it the same tender kneading. He spends a good ten minutes manipulating his thumbs into the pads of my feet, stretching my toes, and rubbing all over. While not the same sated feeling overpowers me, it’s damn close to when he wrings orgasms out of me.
“All blissed out?”
I can’t speak, but nod instead.
“What are you going to do about Preston and dinner?”
“I’m going to march into his office and bring dinner to him. The man has to eat, and if he won’t take the time to actually go out with me, I’ll go to him. It’s the second-best thing.” It’s not, not by a long shot, but if my goal is to share a meal and have time to catch up, I’ll make the sacrifice.
“You never did back down from something you wanted badly enough.” A glint lingers in his eyes.
“I miss him like crazy. And he’s right here, about half a mile away, give or take some distance. I don’t understand why he can’t take two hours to humor me.”
Cameron’s expression flashes contrite. “I’m sorry, sugar.”
My head shakes in disapproval, but I don’t address the nickname. Sneaking a peek at the time on his wrist, I jump up. “We’re supposed to be at the pool.”
He looks unconvinced. “What would it take to ditch your friends? Would a back massage be enough? A full-body one? A happy ending?” His tone is so earnest, yet his smile gives him away.
“I can’t keep putting Erica off. I’m here for her wedding, not to be pleasured by a walking dreamboat.
” I suck in a breath, hoping the inflated compliment doesn’t go to his head.
I don’t think it will, which is why I chanced it.
Actually, it wasn’t a conscious thought to say it.
It popped out unfiltered because it’s one hundred percent the truth.
The man’s like a Greek god. Chiseled abs, a strong jawline, bulging biceps.
Okay, maybe bulging isn’t the right word for the muscles of his upper arms, but he’s got strength and definitely frequents the gym.
“Admit it. The real purpose of this trip has become second fiddle to the man in your bed.” He doesn’t directly address the compliment, but I swear his bare chest puffs out. He knows what he says is the truth.
Disregarding his comment, I turn my back to him, needing to put distance between us, even if that means he’s out of my line of vision.
Except that’s not what he wants. Oh no. He lets me stand away from him, but he drapes his arms over my chest, his fingers teasing my breasts.
I wish I had the willpower to step away, to prove him wrong, but my head falls back, exposing my neck.
“How about a quickie? Your friends and the pool will still be there in ten minutes. Because it won’t take me long to get you off, love bug.”
“Came,” I groan, giving in, putty in his hands.
“In ten minutes, I will have.”
His arms release from my shoulders, and he drags me by the waist up onto the bed. Flat on my back, I don’t have time to pretend my body’s not humming with anticipation.
Our gazes locked, he trails a finger down the side of my face. “Foreplay’d up enough?”
“Um . . . ” He scrambled my brain, not that it takes much with him.
“I’m gonna go with yes.” With his forearms caging me, he lowers his head, his lips resting beside my ear.
“For the record, later tonight, I’m going to draw this out, torture you until you’re pushed to the edge so many times, you’ll be begging me for release.
But for now, I’m amending my ten minutes to seven. ”
The minute his tongue touches my clit, I’m done and gone for.
Five minutes.
That’s how long it ultimately takes Cameron to get me off. And it only takes that long because he brings me to the edge and then backs off at least once, if not twice. The sneaky bastard.