Chapter 14
“Are you as worn out as I am?” Emma asked, walking out of the bathroom with a bottle of lotion. They’d stayed at the beach until dark, having eaten the food they brought in the cooler and then laying out on their towels as other guests took evening strolls. Between the glow of the moon and the reflections of the hotel’s lights, they could still see plenty.
It’d been nice and comfortable. Emma enjoyed the silent moments as much as she did when they were filling the air with conversation. She’d found herself divulging Cam with stories about her travels and work, sure he’d grow bored of it at some point but he never did. Instead, he’d asked surprising questions, the kinds that made her stop and think. It was nice. It felt like she was reflecting on her life with a friend.
They’d spent just as much time discussing what his life was like back home, the crazy shenanigans he and his friends got up to, how a few of his friends met their partners, and what his goals were with work. They’d shared their dreams and hopes, biggest fears, most embarrassing stories, and everything in between.
It wasn’t until her stomach had started grumbling again that they realized how late it’d gotten or that there was hardly anyone else on the beach anymore. On their stroll back up to the hotel, she’d found herself overcome with a sense of peace and gratitude.
When she was with Cam, Emma realized she didn’t worry about what anyone thought about her life, she felt thankful and proud of it.
Cam grunted in response, sprawled out sideways on the bed holding his belly. “I think I ate way too much.”
“Still?” She cracked a smile as she went to the couch to sit. “I don’t think you’ve moved since I showered.”
When they returned to the room, they ordered late-night room service before showering. However, after Cam got out of the bathroom, he’d laid on the bed and clearly hadn’t moved.
“I haven’t. I’ve been questioning at what point all-inclusive food turns into a punishment instead of a privilege.”
She grabbed a throw pillow and tossed it at him. “Stop being a baby.”
Cam reached for the pillow and rolled up to throw it back at her. “Make me.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes, opening the cap of the lotion bottle to squirt some on her legs.
Whatever Cam had been thinking about vanished when he witnessed Emma prop a leg up on the ottoman and begin rubbing the lotion in. How was it that watching her moisturize could turn even the most mundane act and boring pajamas into something so intoxicating for him? He was certain he’d never see the women’s sleep section again without this image popping into his head.
As Emma switched legs, she said, “It’s crazy how fast I dry out in the summer.”
“Mhmm.”
“I hope I brought enough lotion this week. I’m sure they have more downstairs otherwise.”
“Yeah.”
She looked up. “Do you want some?”
It took Cam a moment to realize she asked him something. “What?”
She held out the lotion, her eyes narrowing. “Lotion. Want some?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She could’ve sworn something like guilt and torment washed over his features. Then Cam scratched the back of his neck and finally rose from the bed. A thought skittered through her mind, and she was tempted to toy with him, return the favor of the helmet scheme this morning, along with holding her hand in the elevator, but before she could a sound came through the wall.
Cam turned, his eyebrows raising as Emma froze.
No, she thought. Oh god, no.
“Sounds like they’re having fun.”
Emma made a face. “Ew. I do not need the image to match the sounds.” Because that was indeed the unmistakable sound of a woman moaning.
Cam laughed and she shushed him, standing up to pace the room. Whenever it got quiet again, Emma paused. “Okay, that wasn’t so bad,” she whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Cam asked with an amused look. He made his way to the bed and began pulling back the covers. He could probably score some points if he let Emma have it again tonight, but he did win the bed fair and square in her little race to the ocean earlier.
She relaxed, not caring that he was mocking her. “Because I don’t want them to hear us. Clearly, we can hear them.”
He shook his head, entertained, then reached over his head and pulled his shirt up and off.
“Do you have to sleep like that?” Emma asked, waving her hand up and down at him, then immediately regretted it as a sinful grin pulled on his lips.
“Would you rather me take the bottom half off, too?” He tilted his head at her.
Emma’s face deadpanned. “Not funny.”
“Hard to sleep with such a yummy snack nearby, Emma?”
Her nostrils flared at that. She did not like being taunted, especially whenever it felt like a challenge because she was one to rise to the occasion. Before she could decide on a response to shred his ego, the moaning was back, but this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of furniture banging up against the wall.
Why on earth did they have to be in the room next to Lauren and Asher? Was this some sort of punishment or karma? Emma swore she’d never skimp on the full twenty percent tip again in her life, if only it would make this stop.
“These beds don’t even move,” she said in exasperation.
“But the couch does.”
She made a face, then looked at him unimpressed. “Why am I not surprised?”
Cam shrugged. If only she knew all the ways he’d thought about taking her in this room, the couch included. He was now in bed, sitting against the pillows and the covers pulled up to his waist.
Emma noticed his impeccable muscles were still tantalizing her, but now she had more concerns than Cam’s delicious abs. Especially when it hit her who was next door and exactly what they were doing.
Emma crawled on the bed, making her way up to the pillows but sitting on top of the covers and facing him.
“Why are you making that face?” he asked.
She pressed her hands on the sides of her neck. “Cam, We. Can. Hear. Them.”
He looked at her in question and leaned forward, speaking just as slowly. “I. Know.”
She stared at him, her eyes growing bigger, waiting for him to get it.
He only stared back.
“If we can hear them, then they can hear us.”
He let out a sigh. “Emma, we aren’t doing anything wrong. And we’ve already been over this. There’s nothing they’ll hear that will indicate this is all fake.”
“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “They aren’t hearing anything from us.”
Dawning crossed his face as the thudding against the wall continued. Followed by a definite male grunt and a giggle. They both scrunched up their faces in disgust.
Emma spoke up again. “If this is going to be believable then we need to sell it.”
She was serious. He could see it plain as day on her face, yet he didn’t think she could mean what he thought she meant.
“Why are you looking at me like I just offended you?”
Cam fixed his face. “Are you suggesting we have sex just so they can hear us?” It wasn’t that he was against the idea, but he would much rather have sex with Emma because she wanted to, not to solidify a lie.
Her head drew back and eyes widened. “What? No!”
He quirked a brow in question.
“I meant like pretend to have sex or something,” she said. “I don’t know, but make it sound like we’re going to pound town too.”
He laughed. “Pound town?”
She ignored him. “We need to make it believable. I was so worried about them overhearing us say something damning that I forgot they’d expect us to be having sex like a normal couple.”
“You realize this is the first night we heard them go to pound town”–he held up air quotes with his fingers–“since being here, right? We don’t have to figure this out tonight.”
She looked at him in fervor. “Of course we need to figure it out tonight. They’ve been together longer than us. We should be in the infatuation stage, plus we’re in a long-distance relationship. They’d assume we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off of each other.”
Cam grinned. “Maybe they think we’re the quiet type.”
“Asher knows I’m not quiet.”
He lost his grin and humor. “Fine. Then how do you suppose we fake an exhilarating and infatuated sex life?”
Emma was sitting on her knees now, her hands forming a steeple grip as she placed her pointer fingers against her lips and thought. “What about porn?” she asked, looking up. Unfortunately, Cam didn’t look convinced.
“And what? Play it loud against the wall?” He rubbed his temples.
“I don’t know. Maybe? It was just an idea.”
“Are you telling me that Asher expects you to sound like a porn star?” he asked, more terse than he’d meant.
She frowned. “Don’t be a jerk about it. I’m trying to think of something. Maybe you could help.”
He knew she didn’t understand that his frustration had nothing to do with her plans or ideas and everything to do with the image of her and Asher that she unintentionally placed in his head. He was more for the real sex now. At least then Asher and any other man in the vicinity would know no one made Emma as loud as he did.
“We could stream a movie and re-enact the love-making scene,” she suggested, still unaware of his internal conflict. “Maybe rock some furniture against the wall ourselves in time to it.”
Cam could see the wheels turning behind her eyes and his head dropped into his hands. “How did I get myself into this?” His voice was muffled into his palms.
Emma let out a sigh and collapsed on the pillows next to him. She looked up to see him looking down at her, a small smile on his lips. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know. It’s crazy.”
He let out a chuckle, brushing a small piece of hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. Those electric brown eyes were watching him. “It’s not crazy, just…” he thought for the right words. “More creative than I’m used to being about such matters.”
“You mean you don’t like to fake sex sounds for fun?” she asked.
His head tilted up. “That’s it.”
She raised onto her elbow. “What’s it?”
“We’ll make the sounds ourselves like we’re actually doing it.”
“I get made fun of for saying ‘pound town’ but you can say ‘doing it?’”
He laughed and pushed her onto her back. “You don’t get to make fun of me when I’m over here agreeing to pretend fuck you.” He heard her sharp inhale. His brow raised as he straightened up. “Too blunt for you, Emma?”
She swallowed. “Not at all.” But now she was imagining a naked Cam over top of her and putting meaning to the word pound.
He pulled the covers down off his legs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He slid off the side of the bed and stood. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to make it believable.”
Her mouth opened, half in delight that he was on board and half in scared excitement over what he meant. Before she could ask, he reached across the bed and grabbed her legs, pulling her to him like she was nothing more than a feather.
Cam scooped his hands behind her knees and pulled a leg on either side of his waist, bending down to scoop Emma up against his front side.
She gasped. “What are you doing?” she asked again, the excitement blooming through her chest and a throbbing reaching her where she was now pressed against Cam as he lifted her up and off the bed.
“We already established the bed doesn’t move or make noise,” was his response as he carried her over to the couch.
Emma’s arms were wrapped around his neck, her heart hammering against his hard chest.
“Facing me or from behind?” he asked, his voice strained.
She swallowed, her body temperature spiking. “Which do you prefer?”
Cam met those dark eyes, and he could practically taste the exhilaration in them. “It doesn’t matter, because when we do this for real and not some pretend act, then I’ll be taking you from both.”
Emma wasn’t sure if she could speak. It wasn’t what he said but how sure he was when he said it, and not an if but the when that had her stomach full of butterflies, toes curling, and a pool of heat settling in her core.
She bit her lip, the intensity of his gaze feeling overwhelming. “I don’t think I can pretend sex with you while looking at you.”
Cam gave her a smug impression, then went to set her down while flipping her around faster than she could process what was happening. He had her knees on the couch and was pressed up against her back.
He gently brushed the hair back from her ear. “Grab the back of the couch,” he whispered. “And watch your fingers so they don’t get smashed.”
As she leaned forward and grabbed the back of the cushions, making sure to avoid putting her fingers between the wall and the couch’s edge, Emma decided this might be the horniest she’d ever been, especially for fake foreplay.
Her abdomen tightened in surprise as she felt Cam’s hand slide underneath her stomach, his rough fingers caressing her smooth skin under her pajama top.
He clenched his teeth at how good she felt under his palm. Hell, at how damn good she looked, even clothed, bent over on this couch in front of him. Thank god she chose from behind because Cam didn’t think he could go through with this if Emma could witness how hard it was to restrain himself.
This might be the most self-torture he’d ever put himself through, and he hadn’t even started.
Cam leaned forward, feeling every bit of her ass and backside pressed into him as he placed his free hand against the wall above her head and whispered his question. “Are you sure about this?”
Emma swallowed, her entire body pulsing. “Yes.”
“Then start moaning,” was his only order as he pressed himself against her. Light at first, then a bit harder as her delicate voice made the most delicious sounds he’d ever heard.
Any fear of this being awkward soon faded when he felt her both tense and relax against him, her back arching down as she pressed right back into him.
Cam put his hands on her waist to still her for a moment.
“What?” she asked, turning her head to look back at him. She saw the muscle along his jaw flex as he took her in, and a thrilling bud shot through her. To have Cam looking at her like he wanted to devour her was pure ecstasy in itself.
He saw the wicked spark light in her eyes a moment before she ground backward against him. “Don’t,” he growled. The way she looked at him was dangerous in itself, and he knew she figured out what he was up against.
She moved her hips again, this time slower as she held his gaze, the excitement pulling at her. She felt Cam try to shift her away, to hide how much it was affecting him and she couldn’t help herself. She leaned up on her knees, pressing her back into his chest as her head was still turned up toward his and one arm going around his neck.
“I thought we were going to make it believable,” she whispered to him.
His head snapped down toward hers, the warning clear in his eyes.
If she’d been a woman to heed warnings then he didn’t know her at all. Instead, she tilted her mouth up toward that tensed jaw of his and ran her tongue along its edge. “Come on, Cameron,” she purred. “Help me sell it.”
Before she could tease him with that sultry tongue again or tempt him further to shred those clothes right off of her body, Cam’s hand flew to the back of her head, fisting her hair and guiding her forward onto the couch again. He could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of her devilish smile before she was facing the wall and he was slamming against her.
Emma’s smile turned into a gasp as Cam pulled her head back and rocked her body forward.
“Moan,” he ordered.
The command sent a bolt of lightning between her legs, and god help her because she could feel every bit of him pressed against her. She did as he said. Hell, she probably would’ve without realizing it, because she suddenly found herself entirely too clothed.
But boy did Cam deliver, because not only was the couch slamming into the wall but so was her head until he yanked her back more. She could hear his ragged breathing, or maybe that was her own, and she’d be a damn liar if she tried saying everything that escaped through her lips was entirely made up.
As the couch rocked, she started to turn to look behind her, but Cam was upon her quicker than she could move. He stilled, both of them breathing hard as he hovered over her back, his lips near her ear again. “Was that good enough?” His voice was hoarse and breathless.
She nodded her head, still trying to catch her breath. What in the hell did she just experience? “Yeah,” she let out. “Perfect.”
“Never ask me to do that again,” was his only response before he raised, letting her go, and walked over to the bed.
Emma lowered to a seat, knowing her face was as flushed as she felt. Cam tossed a pillow toward the couch as he climbed into the bed. “You get the couch, “ he said.
She couldn’t help the smile, tried biting it back, but it wouldn’t stop spreading.
“What?” he asked, still trying to regain any sense of control he had over himself right now.
“You’re full of surprises,” she said.
He shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You’re one dangerous woman, Emma Cooper.”
She let out a laugh, grabbing the pillow he’d tossed her and positioning it before lying down. Neither of them said anything else, and then as if realizing one of them needed to get the lights, she heard Cam slip out of the bed before the room turned dark.
Emma was sure at least half an hour passed while she lay there staring at the dark ceiling above her. She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for regret or maybe embarrassment to greet her, but neither did. All she felt was a heady desire to make Cam look at her like that again.
She smiled into the dark. “Thank you,” she finally whispered, surprised whenever Cam’s deep voice answered her.
“You’re welcome.” Because he, too, had no idea what just happened but only that Emma might very well be the woman he’d spent his life waiting on. And he was nervous she might just destroy him.