Chapter 25 #2
Cam shuddered on top of him but didn’t move, allowing him time to adjust. “I want it,” he ground out into Scott’s neck, sounding drunk. “Wanna drill my cock into your heart—carve a place for me there.”
Scott whimpered, his cock leaking precome. “I’d let you,” he mumbled deliriously. “Would let you do anything. Put your cock into my insides and fuck me up.”
Groaning, Cam pushed Scott’s leg over his shoulder, folding him practically in half, and started fucking him hard, his long, forceful thrusts hitting his prostate every time.
It made Scott cry out. Whoever had the room next to Cam’s was probably getting a free show, but Scott didn’t care.
He just wanted him, wanted him, wanted him. Wanted them to be fused forever.
When Cam wrapped his hand around Scott’s aching cock and started stroking him in time with his thrusts, it was almost too much.
Scott groaned, his entire body tensing as he soaked up all the sensations: the heavy body on top of him, the thick cock drilling into him relentlessly, Cam’s hand on his cock, Cam’s breath against his neck. Cam, Cam, Cam.
“I,” he gasped through dry lips, fingers digging into the other man’s back. “Why are you doing this…”
Cam’s rhythm stuttered. He sank his teeth into Scott’s neck, his grip on his hip tightening. “I can’t—can’t stay away from you.” His voice didn’t even sound like his, dark and obsessive.
“Asshole,” Scott muttered, all but clinging to him. “I was doing well, but you ruined it.”
Cam’s thrusts became even harder, as if he were trying to push his entire body into him through his cock.
Scott could only moan, feeling like a ragdoll—and loving every moment of it.
“I—” I love you. The three words he’d always said so easily felt heavy on his tongue.
Part of him wanted—burned—to say them, but he couldn’t.
Scott had thought he’d been in love before, but this felt nothing like those times.
This felt like a sickness, a stomach-twisting longing mixed with aching need and want.
He loved Cam with a ferocity that bordered on painful, wanted this man inside him always, never parted from him. But Cam didn’t want his love.
“Say it,” Cam said, hitting his prostate with surgical precision.
Scott whined, unable to gather his thoughts. “Say what?” he mumbled.
“Say you missed me.”
Scott’s eyes snapped open. The intensity, the dark, possessive hunger in Cam’s brown eyes obliterated the last remnants of Scott’s self-restraint.
Burying his hand in Cam’s hair, he dragged him down into a needy kiss, and thought I love you, I love you, I love you.
It beat in his blood with every thrum of his heart, but he couldn’t say it.
It would destroy him when Cam didn’t say it back.
And the fact that Cam wanted him to say that he’d missed him while giving him nothing back was absolutely infuriating.
That anger sharpened his arousal and gave him the strength to shove at Cam, making them flip their positions so Scott was the one straddling him and setting the pace.
Cam watched with dark, glazed eyes as Scott rode his cock furiously, chasing his pleasure. Scott didn’t try to hold back his wanton moans—it felt so good, he was beyond addicted to this feeling—but he swallowed down the words Cam wanted him to say.
Cam’s strong, greedy hands wandered from Scott’s tits, to his stomach, before wrapping around his weeping cock. He gave it one long stroke. “Come for me.”
Scott cried out and came, his orgasm making his vision darken. He fell heavily on top of Cam, his body shuddering. He was only vaguely aware of Cam fucking up into him brutally, chasing his own orgasm.
Finally, Cam went still too, and Scott felt hot stickiness inside him. Cam’s come. They hadn’t even used a condom. So stupid. Reckless. Everything about this was reckless.
Silence settled between them as their breathing gradually slowed.
Scott drew a deep breath, greedily inhaling Cam’s familiar scent. Every instinct urged him to stay exactly where he was, but he couldn’t.
This shouldn’t have happened. Not when he could no longer even pretend it was just sex for him.
Not when Cam was making things so much harder by demanding that Scott tell him how much he missed him.
Asshole. Scott had always known Cam could be a bit of a an asshole, but Cam had never seemed cruel before. This was cruel.
Setting his jaw, Scott rolled off him and sat up, his back to Cam as he reached for his clothes.
“Where are you going?”
Scott went still. “Back to my hotel,” he said before pulling on his underwear and grabbing his pants.
He winced as his asshole twinged. He continued dressing without looking back at Cam.
It took every last bit of his willpower not to.
He could feel Cam’s gaze like a physical thing, heavy and intense.
“Scotty.”
Scott shivered. No one said his name like Cam. “What?” he said, buttoning his shirt up.
“You’re angry with me.”
Scott laughed sharply. “What clued you in, Richter?”
The mattress dipped and then strong arms wrapped around him from behind as Cam buried his face against his nape.
Closing his eyes, Scott took a shaky breath. “Let go.”
“Tell me why you’re angry so I can fix it.”
That insufferably bossy tone should have made him angrier, but a rush of unbearable fondness welled up inside his chest, making his throat tighten.
“If you can’t figure it out yourself, there’s no point talking about it,” Scott said, forcing himself to wrench his body free from Cam’s arms and get to his feet. Swallowing, he turned around and finally looked at Cam, taking him in.
That horrible, gut-wrenching longing twisted up his insides again as he stared at that handsome, achingly familiar face, those broad shoulders and disheveled dark hair. Every fiber of his being wanted to climb into his lap—climb into Cam’s chest and never leave.
Swallowing hard, Scott forced himself to say, “Good luck tomorrow—and for the rest of the season. I hope you win the championship. I really do wish you all the best.”
Cam frowned, a deep furrow forming between his brows. “Scotty—”
Scott laughed a little. “Look at me being all selfless and mature. Will would never believe it!” He bit the inside of his cheek and met Cam’s eyes.
“Life is funny, isn’t it? If it weren’t for Will, I never would have gone to the Abu Dhabi race.
I never would have met you. I would’ve gone on with my life without ever knowing you existed.
I envy that alternate version of myself. ”
Cam’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t mean that.”
Scott didn’t. Not really. Despite all the heartache, he didn’t regret meeting Cam.
The mere thought of never having known him made his stomach knot.
That version of Scott would have been blissfully unaware of what he was missing.
He would have gone on “falling in love” every other month, only to fall back out of love just as easily. Scott envied him. And pitied him.
Stepping back to the bed, Scott leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Cam’s scruffy cheek. His eyes stung as he breathed him in one last time, committing the scent of him to memory.
“You’re the best mistake I’ve ever made,” he said hoarsely, his throat painfully tight. “Have a good life, darling.”
Cam went absolutely still.
Scott turned and walked away while he still could.