Chapter 16
Juli
His smoldering eyes stare hungrily at me, his fingers still kneading my toes into a state of oblivion. I’m turned on for many reasons. Alcohol. Cameron’s naked chest. The state of my undress. His fingers making my toes melt. All of it adds up to set the mood.
But I don’t want my fingers to do the work. I want his.
Or his tongue.
Or his dick.
All would work.
“I don’t want to make myself come,” I finally admit on an exhale.
“I don’t want you to make yourself come,” he retorts, a wicked gleam in his eyes knowing I’m closer to giving in. “I want you to get yourself ready for me. So I can slide inside your tightness and claim victory.”
His words shouldn’t spur me into action. They should do the opposite—not let him get away with the prize. But damn if my fingers don’t meet my clit, rubbing slow circles to get me started, earning me more of Cameron’s approval.
“That’s my girl.” His use of “my” has my fingers slowing, but I don’t verbally question him. “Wasn’t a slip of the tongue, Jude.”
“Fuck me.”
He takes it as the permission he needs.
Dropping my feet from his fingers, he pushes my shoulders down to the bed before shimmying out of his underwear. “Move the hand.”
I obey immediately, knowing what’s coming will be so much better than I could ever do. I haven’t let my mind drift to what happens when I leave. How much I’m going to miss sex and someone other than myself providing orgasms.
The box of condoms sits on the nightstand, and he wastes no time rolling one down his long shaft, securing it at the base.
My tongue licks my bottom lip on its own, and after he’s completely covered, I don’t drag my eyes away.
At least not until he demands, “My eyes are up here.” Desire pools in his orbs, the greens hungry for something.
And I know what that something is. “Why are you studying my eyes?”
Swallowing the spit gathering, I squeak, “The green’s a pretty color. It’s darker than usual. People pay to have that color.”
“Good talk, cutie. Mind if I get back to business at hand?”
Without missing a beat, I nod. “Please do. I’m wet and ready for you. Capture your win.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
His hands urge my thighs wider. When he has me where he wants me, he situates himself, his arms caging the sides of my torso on the bed. I lose connection with his gaze as I slide my vision to his arms momentarily. His biceps bulge as he presses them into the bed.
Cameron breaches my entrance without warning. As he pushes through the point of pain, it’s a smaller wince this go-around.
“You feel good, Jude. So good. I want to bury myself inside you forever. Think we can make that happen?”
I know it’s spur-of-the-moment talk—how would that even work—but his use of forever opens a locked key inside me. It’s not a “casual” comment, even in the heat of sex. Forever means something more. Something way more.
“I-I,” I stutter for lack of words. What is the proper response to that anyway? Instead, I address the first part. “You feel good inside me.”
Inch by inch, he moves farther in until he’s seated to the hilt. He doesn’t wait for permission to move. His first thrust shifts my entire body, my head dangerously close to falling off the bed.
“Oh shit. Didn’t think this through.”
I don’t know what he’s referring to, but I’m not so lost in my head that I don’t miss when he pulls completely out. The loss is immediate, and my vagina weeps. It hadn’t been long, but I was close, my fingers getting me started on the uphill journey to ecstasy.
“What’s going on?” He’s got the condom on. Unless he felt something amiss with it. I press up to my elbows, trying to assess the situation from a different angle. “Everything okay?”
“Great. We need to not knock you off the bed. Scooch toward the headboard, would ya?” His finger points in the direction he wants me to move in case his words weren’t clear.
And let’s be honest. I’m a little needy and not in the right frame of mind for getting things done right now. So, yeah, the nonverbal cue is helpful.
Once I’m in a better position with my head on the edge of the pillows, he flashes a giant smile. “I’ll get back to work now. What’s it going to take? Two? Three? Four thrusts till you’re there?”
“Four at the most. I’m pretty close.”
When he pushes back inside, I barely feel the intrusion, except for the pleasure of it. There’s no pain. “Yes. Right there.”
I bend my legs at the knees, tugging my knees wider, opening myself up to him.
It feels more than exposing myself to him sexually.
The lock of my guarded heart pops open, freeing it from the shackles tightly secured around it.
This week isn’t supposed to be about emotions, but try telling that to my heart.
The one I protect like Fort Knox. This isn’t the time to be handing it over, but Cameron’s knocked down all my defenses in less than a week.
And damn it, they were there for a reason.
A superb reason. So I don’t fall for men I’m not supposed to.
“Cutie.”
Using the pet name he used moments ago brings awareness back to the moment. Back to Cameron hovering over me, us attached. He’s not moving, and I’ve lost count of how many thrusts it’s been. My body’s ready for the free fall. My abdomen tightens at what’s coming. If only he’ll move.
“You with me?”
“Always. You close?”
“I am. Wanted to make sure we go at the same time. Want to fall together?” If only teenage Cameron could see how much he’s grown.
“God, yes.”
“Hands on my shoulders and hold on.”
I’m not sure how I bring them around to his shoulders, but as soon as my hands are in place, he jerks forward. And it’s all it takes to careen.
The orgasm slams into me, forcing my eyes shut, my mouth open, moans emanating around the room. They’re soon joined by Cameron’s grunts and groans, a cacophony of sounds released as we each chase our orgasm.
I spiral down a while, caught up in a feeling of euphoria so huge it’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. All thanks to Cameron.
He empties himself inside me, slowly thrusting to finish. When he’s spent, he lies down, his torso prone on the bed next to me.
“Damn, girl. No words.”
“Same,” I concur.
It’s more than sex with Cameron, but I don’t dare ask him if he feels the same way. I’ve had “casual” hookups before. None of them felt like this. The sex was never this good. It’s all Cameron because even when sex was quick and over way too fast, it was somehow still good.
“I need to take care of the condom, but I’m thoroughly fucked into oblivion.”
“Know the feeling.”
My eyes close, not opening again until he pushes off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. He’s back almost immediately.
It’s my turn for a disappearing act, and after peeing, he’s all cozy in the bed. Lying face down, he lifts his arm when he realizes I’m back. “Need you close.”
Despite my heart protesting, I obey immediately.
Saturday night tumbles into Sunday morning. Cameron somehow got us an invite to the wedding breakfast I planned to skip for the buffet. It’s my last full day here in paradise, and I want to spend it how I want to.
Which means more naked time.
Though my body needs a break. Something I never thought I’d say.
But damn, am I sore.
The only reason I’m contemplating more sex is because this is it. My fling with Cameron Fairbanks ends in about twenty-five hours.
I’m still processing the emotions that go along with that.
I don’t want it to end, but inevitably, it does.
When I arrived about a week ago, I figured I’d run into him, we’d maybe meet for a meal to catch up, and we’d go about our business. Little did I know we’d connect better than our first time, and I’d be back in a position of knowing he could never be mine.
We’ve yet to talk about what happens when I leave. I’m afraid to bring it up, even though I know it’s final. A part of me holds out the smallest amount of hope there’s a way to continue this—the tiny shard of glass you find on the floor after dropping a glass bottle.
I’ve been awake a good fifteen minutes, convincing myself I don’t have to pee, wrapping my mind around how to say goodbye to Cameron without it being drawn-out, and more importantly, awkward.
What’s the best way to part ways? Thanks for the orgasms. Let’s do it again in, say, fifteen years?
Hardly.
My heart isn’t supposed to want Cameron. It’s supposed to understand this is casual, a fleeting scratch to an itch, closure for a childhood crush. Yet, it’s been anything but that.
Reluctantly, I escape from the safe confines of Cameron’s arms. I didn’t think he was awake, but his grip tightens. “It’s not time to leave the bed yet,” he croaks in a sleep-laden voice.
“It is to pee.”
His arms loosen with no further explanation, and I hop down to take care of business.
The light from the living room peeks under the closed bedroom door, the glow from the smallest of the bathroom lights illuminating my way.
He eventually acquiesced to my need for a night-light, grumbling he could only sleep in utter darkness, yet every night, he’s been out.
The shower calls my name, but we have no more clean towels, so that will have to wait until I can grab some more after breakfast.
In the mirror, I take stock of my appearance. My hair hangs dully, the waves for the wedding all but fallen out. I missed a few spots when I wiped off my makeup. But my eyes are what I focus on most. Apprehension and indulgence vie for victory. Time will tell which becomes the victor.
Back in the bedroom, Cameron’s head is propped up on one elbow, his eyes tracking my every movement. His hair is mussed from sleep, his eyes tired. “That took a while. Everything working okay?”
A soft chuckle barrels out, my ears not prepared for such loudness this early in the day. “All good. We need clean towels.” I drink in the sight of his bare chest, tamping down thoughts of missing this view after tomorrow.
“You need clean towels.” He pats the bed next to him. It beckons like a warning.
“My vagina needs a break.” Words I never thought I’d say. Especially to Cameron of all people.
He falls back against the pillows. “Oh, thank fuck. I thought it was a myth, but it feels like my dick is going to fall off from so much use.” He takes a deep breath before he continues. “That sounds bad. I don’t regret any of it.” His head picks up to watch my reaction.
“Who knew so much sex could be a bad thing?” I’ve lost count of how many times we had sex, how many orgasms he’s drawn out of me. Seriously, too many to count. And multiples, too. I wouldn’t know where to begin tallying. I hear myself saying, “But one last time. For good measure.”
Smart as he is, it doesn’t process for Cameron right away. Then the light bulb goes off. “Like later though, right? Not soon?”
The way he asks is so endearing. Like he can’t possibly fathom considering it. And I accept it for what it is. As handsome and swoony as this man is, the thought of sex at the moment is outrageous.
“Right.” My face sours a little more. “We should probably get going. Someone got himself invited to another party.”
“How the heck was I supposed to know you had planned to skip it?”
I throw my hands in the air, my naked boobs bouncing. “You just should have!”
He’s unimpressed with my outburst, which is why he’s a perfect catch. Not letting me get away with having a tantrum about having to attend a breakfast for my good friend, the entire reason I’m here to celebrate.
“We have the rest of the day to spend however you want.” There’s melancholy in his voice, as if he feels sad I’m leaving tomorrow.
We should address it, have a conversation about it, but I’m too chicken-shit to bare my soul to him on the off-chance he still thinks this is a casual fling. Not that we discussed that from the start. We discussed nothing regarding what this was. We . . . let it be what it was.
“But I wanted pancakes,” I whine. “And bacon. And sausage. And waffles.”
“How do you know they won’t be served at this shindig?”
My mouth opens, but no thoughts emerge. Because hell if he isn’t right. I don’t know. Isn’t that the best news ever?
“I hope you’re right. If not, I’m gonna need you to track down some for lunch. Think that will be a hardship?”
He yanks my feet. Squealing, I go easily, ending up tucked next to him. “Lucky for you, I’ve got some connections. It may mean having to wear clothes longer than you originally planned.”
I debate exactly five seconds before responding, “Deal.”