Chapter 10 #2
If Cam did, it would mean sharing him, and without doing any Bad Ideas at all, Dawson already kind of hated that thought. Should Cam’s optimism be shared? Probably. But Dawson was greedy, and he wanted to hoard all of it for himself.
“Maybe,” Dawson hedged. “But if you go share it with the world, who’s gonna sit here and keep me from drowning in my own pessimism?”
“Good point.” The corner of Cam’s mouth quirked up. “We can’t have that.”
“I’m already pathetic enough.” Dawson wasn’t entirely stupid. He wasn’t a rookie, still. Not on the field, and not off it either, though it had been a long time since he’d done this: flirted and then held his hands up to the fire, like he wanted to get burned.
Like he couldn’t wait to get burned.
His brain was screaming Bad Idea, Bad Idea, Bad Idea, but his body was doing the exact opposite, because somehow he was now pressed against Cam, still backed up against the pillar.
It was hot. So hot. Even hotter when Cam tilted his head down. Looked Dawson straight in the eye and said, “You gonna let me save you?”
It was stupid and more than a little crazy to assume that he could.
But Dawson nodded anyway, hypnotized by the way Cam was gazing at him. Like he really could perform miracles. Like he would.
Then Cam leaned in and closed the last inch between them, lips soft against Dawson’s. The feel of their mouths moving together, even in a sweet, nearly innocent kiss, felt like getting yanked up, right out of the water he’d been flailing in.
It was a good kiss. Despite being young, Cam wasn’t overly eager. He held back, tongue flicking out and then retreating, like he was worried Dawson might pull away.
Dawson thought he probably should, but he wasn’t going to.
It felt so good. Too fucking good.
Cam’s arms curled around Dawson’s waist and he tugged him in a little closer, and oh, Dawson could do better than that.
He tensed and used a sudden burst of strength to turn them, pushing Cam back against the pillar. Cam whimpered into his mouth, and Dawson’s pulse accelerated with the knowledge that this was what they both wanted.
Cam, even though he was taller, caged in with Dawson’s body, their kisses growing hotter and wetter.
Dawson’s lips found Cam’s jawline. His whole body tensed as he found an especially good spot and Cam made a glorious noise in the back of his throat.
It would be so easy to get carried away, because this was the best thing Dawson had felt in forever. Even his foot connecting with a ball, nailing a fifty-plus-yard field goal in a clutch moment hadn’t felt like this.
Dawson had told himself he wouldn’t do this, but maybe it had been inevitable. How could he be expected to resist something so utterly irresistible?
Cam’s fingers dug into Dawson’s waist and then slid around, digging into his ass.
A throat cleared itself behind them and it was a bucketful of cold water dumped right on Dawson’s arousal.
He pulled back. Separated them, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Especially when Cam was leaning against the pillar, long and lean and so gorgeous. Lips red and wet from Dawson’s mouth.
There was a security guard behind them, looking sheepish. “Sorry, just doing my rounds,” he said.
There was recognition in his eyes. At least they were both out and the fact they were both kissing people of the male sex couldn’t have been too much of a shock. That they were kissing each other? That was probably pretty freaking surprising.
“Sorry,” Dawson said. “Uh. We’ll move along.”
The guy nodded, a smile tilting the corner of his mouth up. “Good game,” he said, and turned to go back upstairs.
Pleasure was banked, warm and smug, in Cam’s brown eyes when Dawson met them.
“Guess we probably surprised him,” Cam observed as Dawson glanced around, trying to remember where the PATH entry was here.
“Probably,” Dawson agreed. It was easier to say that than to talk about it.
He finally spotted the sign, way over in the corner. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have found it.
It was just expedient to grab Cam’s hand, tangling their fingers together as he tugged him in the right direction. It was definitely less intimate than what they’d been doing less than five minutes ago.
“You’re not freaking out,” Cam observed as Dawson pushed the entry door open and Cam walked into the narrow passageway.
“Should I be?”
Cam shot him a look. “You were the one who said it was a bad idea.”
“It’s still not not a bad idea.”
“When you figure out what that means, let me know, alright?”
Dawson sighed. “I mean, maybe it was inevitable. And it feels good. Right? You liked it?”
“Daws,” Cam said with an edge of suffering to his tone, “I kissed you.”
“Well, you might’ve not liked it.” He hadn’t been with anyone since Brynn, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed her. Which really . . .that said it all, didn’t it? But to say he was out of practice was putting it mildly.
Cam barked out a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it,” Dawson said.
“You were there.” They took a turn and then another and Cam glanced back at him. “It was hot.”
He’d thought so, but then it had been so long since he’d touched someone in a non-platonic way—or been touched in return—that he wasn’t sure his standards were way out of whack.
Cameron had blown them way out of the water, anyway, but that didn’t mean the feeling was reciprocal.
“Wait,” Cam said suddenly, “you liked it too, right?”
Dawson reached out, his fingers ghosting up and down Cam’s spine. “You were there, weren’t you?” he teased.
“Okay, yeah. It was hot,” Cam repeated, chuckling under his breath. “We could uh . . .do it some more?”
Dawson sure wanted to. Wanted to do more than kiss, too. His cock was still half-hard in his jeans, and every pulse of his heartbeat reminded him that it had been too long.
But he didn’t know what Cam’s expectations were. He was still a pretty shit bet. Ten years older and kinda washed up. Out of practice. Grumpy and self-absorbed.
Cam could do a whole lot better.
If Dawson had wanted another indication of how he wasn’t really worthy of Cam’s attention, the spike of jealousy he felt when he thought of someone else more deserving touching him was pretty convincing.
He could list out all those reasons. But then, he probably didn’t have to. Cam had spent time around him. He knew what Dawson was like. And he’d kissed him anyway.
“It’s not a difficult question,” Cam pointed out when Dawson had been quiet, trying to decide between what he wanted to say and what he should say.
“I was gonna say, I’m a shitty choice, but then you know all the reasons why that is,” Dawson said.
“You’re not shitty,” Cam argued, sounding like he was gearing up for a passionate defense on Dawson’s behalf. A defense he definitely hadn’t earned.
“But then,” Dawson said, before he could get started, “it doesn’t have to be anything serious, right? Just having some fun. Letting loose. Getting off.”
Cam stopped again. Tilted his head, like he was analyzing what Dawson had said. “That what you want?”
Dawson didn’t know what he wanted. It was Cameron, in some kind of way, but this way felt easiest. Safest. Maybe it was still a bad idea, but this probably protected both of them from the worst of the fallout.
If there’s fallout, the remnants of the optimistic part of Dawson’s brain pointed out softly.
“Yeah. I just . . .I . . .” Dawson shoved his hands in his pockets so he didn’t grab Cam and kiss him again to avoid this conversation. To avoid saying something like, you’re going to figure out sooner rather than later that I’m a bad bet, and this’ll make it hurt less when you do.
“I suppose,” Cam said, full of thoughtful consideration, “that would probably make it a less bad idea.”
“Exactly.”
“If anyone deserves to have some fun, it’s probably you,” Cam agreed.
“Shit,” Dawson said, laughing. “Little harsh, don’t you think?”
Cam nudged him with his shoulder, indicating their doorway, out of the last corridor, “You said it, not me. You wanna have some fun? Okay, let’s have some fun.”
Cam had never had a boyfriend. He’d had a handful of hookups in high school, and then some more regular friends-with-benefit arrangements in college. He’d always been happy enough with those.
Deciding that after all those casual situations now he wanted to get serious, and that the person he wanted to get serious with was Dawson Hall would be ridiculous.
Which is why you’re not doing it, Cam told himself firmly. Dawson had said it himself. They were just having fun. The chemistry was good. The kiss had been spectacular. It was the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam. Easy. Simple. Straightforward.
Dawson hadn’t had to say he hadn’t hooked up with anyone since his marriage had ended; it had been written all over his face and in between his uncertainty after the kiss had ended.
Which was why Cam wasn’t particularly surprised when they got to Dawson’s apartment that he got weird and nervous. He’d already assumed he was going to have to drive this, at least the first time.
It wasn’t easy for Cam either, but he did it anyway: as soon as Dawson pulled his coat off, Cam following suit, he pushed him right against the wall by the door, kissing him again.
Any protest Dawson made was swallowed up by Cam’s mouth, and he melted under his touch.
Cam pulled back for a moment. “Been a while?” he asked casually.
Dawson looked deliciously flustered, a flush riding high on his cheekbones, his hair mussed. “Is it that obvious?”
It was, but Cam wasn’t about to tell him that. He’d get all up in his head again, worrying about whether it was going to be good for Cam. Newsflash: Dawson turned Cam on so much it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d been celibate for years.
“No,” Cam murmured, “just wondering how long it’s been since anybody did this.”