Chapter 18
Cam resisted the urge to loosen his tie as he entered the lavish reception room.
He was no stranger to fancy parties and events, to making nice with people he didn’t care for, but it was the first time he was invited to a fancy party where people didn’t care who he was and wouldn’t be at all impressed by his racing record.
Frankly, if Scott hadn’t looked so disappointed when he said he couldn’t come, Cam would never have voluntarily stepped foot into a high-society gathering like this—one full of old money that wore tuxes like a second skin and casually talked about well-known U.S.
politicians as if they were old golf buddies.
The reception room itself looked less like a ballroom and more like a museum that had decided to throw a party.
Crystal chandeliers hung in careful symmetry overhead, scattering warm light across polished marble floors that reflected every movement.
Along the walls stood towering arrangements of white flowers.
A string quartet played near the far windows, the music soft enough to blend into conversation.
Servers in black vests moved with choreographed precision through clusters of guests, balancing trays of champagne flutes and impossibly delicate canapés Cam couldn’t name.
He caught fragments of conversation as he passed—investment portfolios, overseas estates, foundation boards, a senator’s upcoming fundraiser.
Cam was acutely aware of the way his shoes sounded against the marble, louder than everyone else’s somehow, as though the floor knew he didn’t belong. No matter how rich and successful he was, he didn’t belong in this world.
His gaze searched for the reason he was here until it finally found Scott on the opposite side of the vast room. Scott was engaged in a conversation with a group of elegantly dressed older men.
Watching from a distance, Cam saw a version of Scott he hadn’t met before—confident in a way that wasn’t about charm or bravado, but inheritance. The easy handshakes, the nods of recognition, the quiet respect offered without question. Scott wasn’t just comfortable here. He was part of this world.
So many things about Scott and his relationship with his family suddenly clicked into place.
“You’re Cameron Richter.”
Flinching, Cam dragged his gaze away from Scott and looked toward the sound of an unfamiliar voice.
It belonged to a tall man about his height and age. He looked a lot like Scott, his features maybe a little harder and sharper where Scott was more classically handsome.
“Will Summers,” the man said, stretching out his hand.
Cam shook it. “Scott’s cousin, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Will gave a sardonic smile. “I doubt it was anything good. Scott likes to complain about me.” His tone was good-natured, but his gaze was measuring, assessing. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”
Cam had no idea how to interpret that. “Have you?” he said noncommittally, wondering whether Will knew about his...
situationship with Scott. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have.
From everything Scott had told him about his cousin, Will Summers wasn’t the type to gossip about other people’s secrets, and Cam trusted Scott’s judgment.
Will snorted softly. “Oh, Scott talks about you all the time. Now I know more about Formula One than I’ve ever wanted to know.”
Cam’s lips twitched. “He’s a big fan.”
“Yes,” Will said, raising his eyebrows. His eyes were a lot like Scott’s, but they were colder, more reserved, closer to gray than blue. Scott’s eyes were pretty. No one in their right mind would call this man’s eyes pretty.
Will studied him. “When he declared that he was into Formula One now, I thought it would be a passing fancy, the way all Scott’s infatuations and obsessions are, but it’s been nearly a year and he’s only become more obsessed. He’s barely missed a race this year.”
Cam shrugged. “He loves watching cars go vroom.”
“Yes,” Will said. “I’m sure that’s what this is about.”
Before Cam could reply, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and the subtle scent of familiar cologne filled his nostrils. “You came!”
Cam turned his head immediately, Will Summers forgotten, and met Scott’s lovely eyes inches away from his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice dropping involuntarily. It had been just eight days since they’d last seen each other, but his hands itched to pull Scott closer.
Scott grinned at him, pressing his chest flush against Cam’s side. “I didn’t expect you to make it. You said you had a sponsor thing in Brazil.”
“I did,” Cam said, putting his hand on Scott’s narrow waist. “I managed to wrap it up a bit earlier.” He’d bullied the sponsor into wrapping it up earlier, but Scott didn’t need to know that.
Scott beamed at him, bright-eyed and flushed—so obviously happy to see him that Cam felt drunk on it. Fuck, he wanted to pull him closer and lick into his smiling mouth, right there.
Someone cleared their throat.
Cam dragged his gaze away, belatedly remembering that they weren’t alone.
Will was watching them like a hawk, something surprised in his expression.
“Oh, right,” Scott said. “Will, meet Cam. Now excuse us, we have to—eh, talk.” And taking Cam’s arm, he dragged him away.
Cam let him.
Scott half-steered, half-pulled him into a room down the corridor before slamming the door shut and shoving Cam against it. The next moment, his mouth crashed against him, all tongue and teeth.
Grabbing Scott’s hair, Cam took over the kiss, angling Scott’s head so he could tongue-fuck him deeper. Scott let out a small whimper and sucked on his tongue, his hands roaming all over Cam’s back and then grabbing his ass to grind Cam’s erection hard against his own.
Cam groaned into his mouth. “Lube?”
Scott let out an incredulous laugh. “You think I brought lube to this party? Who do you think I am?”
“A slut,” Cam said, grabbing Scott’s ass and squeezing it.
Scott shivered. “Maybe if you’d told me you were coming, I would’ve,” he mumbled, blushing.
Fuck, he looked beautiful like this: flushed and glassy-eyed, lips wet and swollen from Cam’s kisses. Cam wanted to lick him all over.
“Turn around and put your hands on the door,” he said hoarsely.
It did things to him that Scott obeyed him instantly.
“Pull your pants down.” Cam yanked his own fly open and pulled his erection out.
Scott’s pants were already on the floor along with his underwear, his white shirt covering his bare ass. “We can’t—not without lube,” Scott said shakily.
“I know,” Cam said, pressing his cock between Scott’s cheeks and grinding slowly. “We can do it like this.” He buried his face against Scott’s nape. “Be a good doll and play with yourself while I fuck your thighs.”
Scott whimpered. He grabbed his cock and started stroking it desperately as Cam rutted against his ass.
It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.
Breathing in Scott’s scent, Cam closed his eyes, his thrusts becoming faster.
After more than a week without sex, it didn’t take him long to get close to the edge.
When his leaking cockhead caught on Scott’s opening, Cam groaned and nudged harder against it.
Scott gasped, pushing back. “Put it in,” he said breathlessly. “Just a little. Want you in me when I come.”
Cam knew they shouldn’t. He was too big to fuck without lube. And doing it bare was stupid. But fuck, he wanted to. His hips thrust forward before he could stop himself.
Scott whined, rotating his hips and pushing back a little. “Yes—come on, just a little more—”
Gritting his teeth, Cam pushed in slowly, tortuously so. The tightness, the heat, the way Scott’s hole gripped his bare cock like a vice… fuck, it was too much.
“Cam,” Scott gasped out, turning his head back, seeking his lips blindly. Cam licked into his mouth despite the awkward angle, grinding his cock in. Fuck—fuck—
Scott went rigid and came with a low moan against his mouth, and Cam quickly followed, spilling into Scott’s hole as pleasure and relief washed over him. It felt like he was coming forever.
“You come like a horse,” Scott muttered. “Fuck, I’ll be leaking your come all evening.”
Cam’s cock twitched. “How do you know how much horses come?” he murmured with a snort, tucking himself back in.
Then he looked down—and stared. At his come leaking out of Scott’s hole, down his inner thigh.
Jesus.
Before he completely realized what he was doing, he was dropping to his knees and licking it.
“What—oh—oh fuck—don’t stop—”
Cam didn’t.
They didn’t return to the party for another hour.