Chapter Twenty-Six #3
That made me shake my head. “Wouldn’t say pro.” The pizza surprised me—it was better than any rink pizza should be. I let out a little moan, laughing. “This is… actually amazing.”
The look he gave me then was almost dangerous, his eyes hooded. “Have you had enough skating?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
He reached across the table, voice dropping. “Because I want to make sure there’s enough time for me to savor you tonight.”
That sent a cold shiver through my whole body. I left the pizza behind, snatching at his arm. “Let’s go, then.”
He didn’t argue. The drive back to his apartment passed in a kind of quiet anticipation—I could feel electricity building with every minute.
The second we stepped inside, he was on me: kissing hard, stripping my jacket and shirt away. I matched his urgency—it felt good, being wanted like this, being with someone who wanted only me.
I got his belt undone, pants down, his cock springing free. I went to my knees, tasting him, drawing out the drop of salt already forming.
“God, Livi.” He sounded almost wrecked.
I took him in deep, not teasing, wanting to give as much as I could. His hand drove hard into my hair as he rocked into my mouth. It was rough, but it turned me on—the way he claimed every inch of me, the openness of his desire.
I was no stranger to this, not with Cam, but with Nate it was different.
He was thicker than Cam, not as long, which made my jaw ache, but I wanted it—I liked the weight of him, the velvet feel, the way his intent focused on me and only me.
I could feel myself soaking through my panties at the thought of it.
He took over, pumping into my mouth, each thrust hard and claiming. The sound of him, the grip on my hair—it was all more than I expected from Nate. He’d always seemed gentle, but there was nothing gentle about the way he owned my mouth.
He pulled out abruptly, caught me before I fell, and spun me around, peeling off my jeans, panties, bra. My back hit the wall and suddenly he was on his knees, one of my legs on his shoulder, tongue finding my clit quick as lightning.
I jolted at that first touch, but craved more instantly, grinding against him, fists in his hair. He gave me everything, and the second he sucked hard, I moaned loud enough to probably startle the neighbors—not that I cared. Not for a second.
He pushed two fingers inside, curled them just so. I came fast and hard, pressing closer, desperate for every scrap of sensation.
He kept at it until I whimpered his name, too sensitive. Then he stood, positioned himself at my entrance.
“Condom,” I managed.
He groaned and stepped away, back fast with the wrapper, rolling it on as he came.
He hoisted me up, legs around his hips, and slid inside—all at once, tight and full and perfect.
“You feel so good,” I whispered.
“It’s only going to get better,” he promised, mouth finding mine as he thrust, urgent and relentless.
I held on, letting him drive me wild, letting his body grind me just right with every movement. I kissed him back, lost in it, feeling the second orgasm build low and tight.
When he scraped his teeth over my neck, it unraveled me. I tensed, squeezing around him, hearing his guttural moan as he joined me, pulsing deep.
We clung together, catching our breath, the world shrinking down to this sharp-edged moment.
“That was amazing,” I said, laughing softly into his neck.
He held me tight. “Agreed.” He eased out, set me gently down. “How long do we have?”
I checked my phone, sifting for reality. “About two hours.”
“Plenty of time,” he said, eyes dark as he pulled me toward the bedroom. “No need for clothes. Let’s use the bed this round.”
∞∞∞
When I got home, Cam was already on the couch, a drink in hand, some reality show flickering on the screen. I’d taken an Uber so he wouldn’t see Nate’s car—not that I was hiding, exactly, but I wasn’t looking for a fight either.
My body ached in the best way. Nate had wrung every drop of pleasure out of me, and afterward we’d just lay together, talking, pretending for a little while that we were more than we were. I loved the feeling, even if it scared me.
But Cam was the man I’d married, and I still loved him. I reminded myself of that, though tonight it felt more like a memory than a fact.
“Hey baby,” he called, eyeing me. “I’ve been waiting up.”
I set my bag down. “Didn’t know you’d be home so early.”
He shrugged, coming closer. “Worked late. Came straight home.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but I turned away, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought.
“You didn’t go out tonight?” I asked.
He looked thrown by the question. “No, canceled. Didn’t feel like it.”
Of course he canceled with her. Probably Lacey. I felt a sudden spike of anger, but held it back. If I started accusing, Nate would be the first casualty—and I wasn’t ready to lose that part of my life.
I headed for the bedroom but Cam followed, lingering in the doorway as I undressed. His stare felt different now, like he was looking for something.
“Where’d you go tonight?” he asked, voice casual but with an edge.
“Ice skating.”
He made a face. “Ice skating? With Rachel?”
I kept my back to him. “Yes. I like it, you know. Did a lot before college.”
He nodded, like he was considering this new information. “You never asked to go since we got together.”
“I haven’t,” I admitted as I shimmied out of my jeans—and, with luck, he didn’t notice the state of my underwear. “But I think I’ll go more often. It was fun.”
He snorted. “Bet Rachel didn’t think so. She’s not the active type.”
I didn’t bother answering; I just headed for the shower. He trailed after me, starting to undress.
“Didn’t you already shower?” I asked, not hiding my impatience as he hesitated with his pajama bottoms.
He paused, hand on the waistband. “Can’t I shower with my wife? Just to be close?”
“Cam, I’m exhausted.” I stepped under the water, barely warmed. “I just want to get clean and go to bed.”
The rejection landed hard. He pulled his pants back up and stomped away. I didn’t feel bad—not tonight. I had nothing left to give him.
So many times I’d sat here alone while he was out. Why should I feel guilty for spending time with someone who excited me, who actually made me feel wanted?
I got dressed, lotion and pajamas and everything, and crawled into bed beside him.
He reached for me. I held perfectly still, silently begging him not to want sex tonight.
Of course, he did. His hand closed over my breast, kneading.
“Cam…” I started, but he cut me off.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to make love either.” He jerked his hand away.
“I’m really tired,” I said, and it was the truth.
His tone sharpened. “Who’d you go skating with, if not Rachel?”
I stayed quiet, searching for words, knowing that whatever I said would only make this worse.
He recoiled, eyes flashing. “Was it a date? Did you sleep with him?”
I rolled over to face him, my own anger rising.
“And you, Cam? Who were you with on our anniversary? Ready to tell me that yet?”
He looked away. “This isn’t about me. It’s about what you did tonight.”
“Funny—I’ve been waiting for an answer for a long time, Cam.”
He glared. “You’ll get your answer when I’m ready.”
I shrugged. “Then you’ll get yours when I’m ready.”
He snapped, sitting up. “Olivia! Who is he? I’ll kill him.”
I couldn’t even find the energy to respond to the threat. “We’ll talk when you’re ready to tell the truth. I’m going to sleep.”
I turned off the lamp, leaving us both in a thick silence, smoldering.
Eventually he rolled to his side. I could feel his anger, echoing mine, each of us trapped in our own resentment until the darkness finally pulled us under.