Chapter 17 Riley
Riley
After we do shots with Trevyn and a few of the nurses, the music heats up again and I wonder if this is always how doctors and nurses party. I also wonder how they all got the night off at the same time but I don’t really feel like asking questions. What I do feel like doing is getting out of here.
Despite the fact I do actually enjoy dancing, I’m not in the mood.
Luckily, I don’t think Cameron is either so we find ways out of that.
And even though just an hour ago I was starving, thanks to Barbie and Ken, I’ve lost my appetite for anything but a virgin cranberry vodka (aka just cranberry but with a lime wedge in it, people think I have a drink and therefore no one is generously offering to get me one).
Cameron and I work the room both separately and together and once we finally find our way back to each other again, he grabs my hand, this time tugging me through an exit door in the back of the event room that leads us down to the lobby.
“Where are we going?” I ask, the hallway echoing with my voice. It was so loud in there that I find myself still thinking I have to yell.
“Away. Somewhere they won’t find us.”
“We could just leave, you know,” I tell him as we plop down in the lobby chairs, neither of us realizing how tired we actually are until our butts hit the seats.
“Unfortunately, we have to wait…thirty four more minutes. Thirty three now.”
“Why?” I ask, turning to him.
“Party rules. Unspoken rules, really. The doctors have to stay at least three hours or it’s considered bad PR. I also go back on call as soon as I walk out those doors although I think I’ve consumed enough booze to be off the hook on that one.”
“Jesus, what am I signing up for?” I moan, covering my face in my hands.
“Please tell me you’re not going to Runaway Bride me.”
“I won’t Runaway Bride you,” I reassure him through my fingers. “But I can’t promise I won’t force you to elope.”
“Destination wedding, I love it,” he says, manspreading in the chair while lacing his fingers behind his head. “So where are we going? Vegas?”
“Please. That’s so trashy. And I’m not going to get married by a midget version of Elvis.”
“Alright, fine. New York?”
“Too cold.”
“Paris?”
“Too French. I don’t like snails.”
He spits out a laugh at that. “The Keys?”
“With all the weird shit that happens in Florida? No way. Plus, it’s hurricane season.
“We’re talking about Florida," he’s still half laughing. “It’s always hurricane season.”
“What about Adamstown, Pennsylvania,” I say, sitting up and turning in my seat to face him.
“I’ve never even heard of that! What’s there?”
I give Cameron a very disappointed look. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead.”
“It’s the antique capital of the US! Duh!”
Cameron throws his head back in a chesty laugh and it makes me laugh too even though I am being very serious. “You couple elope anywhere in the world and you chose a place known for selling the most dead people’s stuff? You’re cute.”
I am giggling like a little girl now. Something about the way he is laughing, the ridiculousness of the conversation and just the entire situation has me feeling slightly hysterical.
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Dom Perignon and tequila don’t usually go together well.
Or maybe it’s the way he said those last words.
You’re cute.
You’re cute.
You’re cute.
“You know,” he says, rolling his head to look over at me. “This is fun. I am at a holiday business party and I am actually having fun.”
“Yeah, well, I should hope so. You just got engaged,” I point out.
“So did you. How does it feel?”
“Insane.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah. It might just be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
His laugh fades to a smile and he rests his eyes on me, warm, blue, hazy. His hand bumps mine but neither of us pull back. Then his eyes slide down to my lips. My heart speeds up.
“I found them!” Sarah’s voice echoes through the lobby and the moment is ripped away.
“You know,” Cameron says as several nurses and Trevyn rush in. “If you have to keep searching for someone, there’s a decent possibility they are hiding and don’t want to be found.”
“Which is exactly why we took the liberty of getting you some privacy,” Sarah says.
“Some all night privacy…” Trevyn says while dancing. He’s black, he can do that without looking like a nerd. He also has rhythm, though that rhythm is annoying me a little bit right now.
“What…did you do?” he asks and I am wondering the same thing. Though I am pretty sure we know what they did.”
“We got you the honeymoon suite!” Sarah exclaims and everyone starts cheering and dancing. Everyone except Cameron and I who are pretty much just sitting here in shock.
“You…did?” Cameron asks with a smile, his eyes shifting over mine. My reaction isn’t much better.”
“Wow…you…shouldn’t have.”
“Oh but we should have!” Sarah says, winking at us. “Here’s your keys. You two have fun.”
“We will want to hear all about it…” Trevyn says, eying Cameron who doesn’t so much as blink. I’m pretty sure I’m not breathing.
The elevator ride up to our room is quiet.
Cameron and I don’t so much as look at each other which is pretty damn hard considering all the walls of the elevator are literally floor to ceiling mirrors.
I wonder if anyone would notice if we just snuck out the back.
Or if they’re waiting in the shadows. It’s a little concerning just how much these people care about Cameron getting laid.
He’s a doctor. Surely he gets laid all the time.
The doors open and we both stare at the hallway for a moment before making our way out.
As we walk, his hand finds my lower back, only a brush before he pulls back again.
But even that tiny amount of contact leaves my skin hot.
My heart is beating so hard you’d think we were walking around the hotel of the Shining.
But this just might be scarier than that.
I am about to walk into a honeymoon suite with a man I’m not entirely sure I can keep my hands off of.
I’m also not sure if I want to…
“Here we go,” he says, waving the key over the lock.
It clicks and he opens the door. It is…a suite.
Giant California King bed with down comforter and no less than a dozen poofy pillows.
A view of the city. A private balcony with french doors.
A giant free standing bathtub literally in the middle of the room.
A fireplace (a fucking fireplace!) not to mention the world’s largest walk in shower.
“Whoa,” I say.
“Yeah. This might actually be nicer than my apartment,” he says.
“This might actually be bigger than my apartment…” I say and we both laugh awkwardly.
Then we look at each other. Whether or not it’s a good idea, we look at each other.
And from there we grab each other. I’m talking, bodies smashing into each other, hands groping, lips crashing, tongues searching.
“Fuck,” I let out in his mouth as his hands find the zipper of my dress, sliding it down to my lower back.
“You want to?” he asks.
“I just meant…shut up,” I say, tugging the dress off and letting it fall to my ankles before I kick it aside.
Never have I ever been so comfortable getting mostly naked in front of a man before.
But also, never has a man ever made me feel the way Cameron makes me feel when he looks at me. Like I’m a dessert and he’s the fork.
“Fuck,” he says too as his eyes graze over me, like he doesn’t know where to start. Then his eyes zero in on my breasts, held high in a lacey black push up bra.
He cups them in his hands, his thumbs softly running over the tops of my nipples, arousing them on contact. I let out a moan, my knees turning to Jello.
Cameron smirks. “Sensitive?”
“Don’t get cocky about it. It’s just been a while.”
“A while since what? You’ve been touched? You’ve gotten off?
“All of it,” I whimper as he does it again.
“Well, how about we change that?”
“I am a complex woman, Doctor Reinhart. It might not be that easy.”
“And like you just said, I am a doctor. I know how the human body works. Also, the floor is wet…”
I look down and sure enough, there’s a little puddle between my feet. My cheeks flush but before I can say anything else, his thumbs tease my nipples again, this time harder and faster. I hang onto him, my hands gripping into his broad shoulders so I don’t hit my knees.
Cameron yanks the bra down, freeing my tits from the bra entirely and he brings them to his mouth, kissing each other before suckling them.
“Cameron…” I moan his name, my back arching and my head falling back.
“Yes?” he asks.
“I want…I need…”
“Yes, ma’am…” he says and the next thing I know, he is picking me up. He lays me on the bed and then drops to his knees, snaking his arms around my thighs and yanking me towards him.
“Jesus…you’re strong,” I let out.
Cameron just grins at the ego stroke and then he starts stroking me…between the legs…with his tongue.
“Fuck!” I let out. I grip the sheets in my hands, certain that he is going to get me off in all of ten seconds. It either has been that long or he really is that good. I’m thinking both.
His tongue explores me, finding every sensitive spot, every spot that makes me shudder and gasp and gush. He takes his time, tantalizing every centimeter of me but never long enough to push me over the edge. Only long enough to edge me torturously.
At one point, because it’s instinct, I cross my arms over the softness of my stomach. But he immediately grabs my wrists, uncrossing them.
“Don’t cover up…” he says. “Don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, kissing my stomach. At first I tense, then I soften because no one has ever done that before. No one has kissed my imperfection with gentleness and hunger and arousal. “Like a fucking goddess,”
I giggle at that. “Now you’re just trying to make me feel good,” I say, looking down at him.
“No. If I was trying to make you feel good, I’d do this.”
His palm cups my pussy and his fingers find my clit, teasing it until I cry out, coming all over his hand and the bed and everything else. But even after the orgasm is over the cusp, he keeps going.
“Cameron,” I plead, clamping his wrist in my hand.
“No. Come again.”
“I don’t think I–”
“I said come. Again.”
His finger picks up speed while his other hand finds one of my nipples again. And within seconds I do just that, only this time the orgasm is much stronger, something I didn’t know could be possible.
I go limp on the bed and he undoes his pants, freeing his very hard, very erect, very…large…dick from his slacks.
“Fuck,” I let out.
“Yes. Now we fuck,” he says with a devilish smile before crouching over me.
The man is still more or less fully clothed.
It’s actually kind of hot. I do, however, graze my hands up under his shirt, feeling his abs which are very toned.
I run my fingers in the crevasse of every muscle, along the line of the happy trail that travels southward down to his beltline.
A low involuntary laugh rumbles from the back of his throat as he kisses me and all his muscles flex.
He’s ticklish. God this man is going to end me.
He cages his hands on either side of my head, pulling his mouth away from mine to look at me.
His eyes are dark, ringed with passion and need as a moment later I feel the tip of him inside of me.
It’s a warm, thick tease and I feel myself shudder at the promise of more.
Then, on cue, he drives the rest of his granite hard cock inside me, deeper and deeper, filling me up in places I have been empty for so, so long.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, wrapping my legs around him.
“Shit, baby girl. You feel so good.”
“Really?” I ask and he thrusts again.
“Does my rock hard dick say differently, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice gravelly.
I shake my head.
“Good.”
With that, he thrusts in and out of me, slowly at first, rubbing each and every nerve inside of me until they all come alive, swelling with want and burning need.
“Cameron…” I whimper. “Fuck me, Cameron.”
“You like it rough?” he asks and I bite my lip with a nod.
He lets out a gravelly laugh before bearing down.
“Alright. Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”
Cameron picks up the pace, driving in and out of me, slamming harder and deeper each time.
“Oh my god!” I cry out. “Fuck! Yes! Yes!”
My hands scrape for something to hang onto, something to grip and scratch and rip apart.
They slide over his back, still under his shirt, tearing at his soft, sweating skin.
Then slip down to his sides where I feel his flexing muscles around his ribs and something else.
A patch of skin under my left hand that feels different than the rest. Raise a little in a funny pattern.
A birthmark maybe? I want to see it. To kiss it.
To take every inch of him in me in every way I can. I just want all of him.
“Fuck,” he groans as I tighten around him, his cock growing harder, tingling against my skin until we both are taken by the orgasm like a riptide pulling us out into a stormy sea. We both cry out as it claims us fully before finally letting go.
Cameron rolls off of me, collapsing on the bed next to me.
“Damn…” I say when words are finally possible again.
“Yeah. Damn,” he echos.
Neither of us know what else to say. Because neither of us know what we are doing. All I know is I think we just added a benefits clause to our contract, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.