29. That Girl #2
"Girls who got a new girlfriend every month, and come home with lipstick on their shirt. Girls who ask shit like 'what are we' while still fucking their exes on the side."
Cam's smile died. "You really think that's me?"
"I don't know what to think," I said. "You're hard to read sometimes."
She searched my face. "I don't know about that.
I think I'm being pretty open about what I want from you.
And I'm telling you, I'm not trying to fuck with your head.
I just want y—" Her mouth twisted. She looked like she had to work for the next words.
"I want to see what happens if you let me in, even a little. "
She said it fast, almost annoyed at herself, like asking out loud cost her something. And God help me, I knew that exact feeling—the specific stupidity of admitting to wanting this out loud.
The hallway went soft at the edges. Her eyes didn't. I stood there doing nothing about it for longer than I'd ever admit. The sigh got out on its own. "You ever tried not being a menace? For, like, a second?"
"I tried last night. Didn't take."
I snorted. "Try harder."
Cam smiled, for real this time. "Maybe if you let me."
For a second, the world shrank to nothing but her and the way her body leaned toward mine. The space between us went hot. It pulled me forward. I could have kissed her, or dragged her closer to me, or both. I just stared, letting the desire and the doubt wrestle it out.
"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" she asked, not quite a question.
"Not even a little. Why would I?"
"Good point."
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say come up to my place, stay for a month, ruin my life. Fold me up like laundry. But I couldn't. I couldn't be that girl—not yet, maybe not ever.
"I gotta go," I said, meaning it and not.
She didn't move out of my way. Stood there, close enough to smell whatever she was wearing. Something spicy and exotic that made my brain get real loud.
Cam tilted my jaw toward her. "For what it's worth, I said what I said. I want this. And I want you to always look at me like this."
I swallowed. My mouth was dry, words stuck to the roof of it. Butterflies. Actual butterflies in my stomach. Ridiculous.
I should've left. Should've walked past her, gotten in my car, gone home and pretended tonight didn't happen. Leaving her without touching her seemed impossible at the moment, so I reached up, fingers finding the loose ends of her bowtie, and tugged.
"Don't make me regret this."
She came closer, easy. She'd been waiting for it.
I kissed her. Not soft or asking permission. I took what I'd been wanting since she walked in.
Cam made a small, surrendering sound against my mouth and I felt the shift in her body as she melted into it.
This wasn't like the hotel or the green room—frantic, secret, something we could pretend didn't happen.
This was me choosing her in a hallway where anyone could walk by.
Her hands settled on my hips as if they belonged there, sure and steady, and she kissed me back with that same certainty.
My grip on her bowtie loosened, but I didn't let go. Couldn't.
When I pulled back, she was staring at me like I'd just rewritten the whole night.
"That clear enough for you?" I said.
She nodded. "Yeah. That works."
I stayed in it, right in her face, long enough for her to taste the ghost of another kiss.
The hallway was still ice cold, but she burned against me, something sharp under the perfume.
I had a second where I saw us from the outside, two girls in couture pressed up in the most boring hallway in LA, and all I wanted was closer.
Cam figured that out before I did. She kissed me hard, finally been given permission to be a problem. I felt it all down my spine, and then lower until I was throbbing.
She didn't back up. I didn't either. For one second we just stood there, breathing too close, waiting to see who would break first. Someone finally did. Cam's hand caught at my wrist, and that was it. I was that girl.
She pressed me back, all the way to the cinderblock, and followed until her thigh was parked between mine. The wall was solid, but she was solid, too. I had nowhere to go but into her mouth. So I did.
Cam pulled back, searching my eyes. For a moment the cold came rushing in again, the air sharp and clean.
"Need you," I said.
She grabbed under my thighs and hiked the dress up so fast the silk bunched around my hips, and cold air kissed my skin. I made a noise I wasn't proud of.
If anyone walked around that corner, they would see everything. I should have cared. I didn't. The first graze of her fingers over my panties, and my legs spread for her.
"Fuck, you're wet." She said it, looking like she was wrestling down self-control, same as me.
I reached for her, pulled her closer by the lapels, because if I didn't hold her there, I would fall over. She didn't mind.
Cam pushed my panties aside and touched me where I was softest. Groaned when her fingers pushed inside. I bit down on her lip, not enough to hurt, just enough to say, more. She gave it to me. Two fingers, slick and strong, right where I needed it, pumping slowly.
I could barely breathe. The wall was cold behind me, but my body lit up. Cam kissed down my neck, bit at the place just under my jaw, and then went back to my mouth like she didn't want to share any part of me with the world.
She didn't even tease. No slow build. Cam wanted to see if she could finish me before anyone walked by.
She worked her hand right on the spot that always killed me.
My breath went ragged. Hands scrabbled at her shoulders, something fierce in the way I dug my nails in.
She hissed through her teeth, and it was the best sound I'd ever heard.
She didn't stop. Instead, she circled her thumb on me, not delicate or sweet, exactly how I needed it.
I had a list in my head of ways this could all go wrong. The camera guy from earlier, rounding the corner and seeing Cam's mouth on my throat and her hand disappearing under my dress. Handler screaming. Zaniyah's I-told-you-so tone already loading up for tomorrow's call.
"You're gonna get us caught," I managed.
She paused, fingers still buried deep. "You want me to stop?"
"No."
"Good." She slipped a third finger inside, soft at first, slow enough to feel it. The fullness when she bottomed out made me see spots.
It hit me again—anybody down this hall would catch me getting cracked in public. Should've scared me. Made it hotter. Body tight, breath gone, every stroke pushing me past giving a fuck until I was too far gone to think. All I could do was grab her and try not to scream.
Cam fucked me until I was shaking so hard I almost slid down the wall. The dress stuck to my skin. Every inch of the cinderblock bit into my back, one hand steady under my ass, the jewelry on her wrist catching the edge of my thigh.
She went harder now. Her hand cupped me until the suction made my feet arch out of my shoes. She curled her fingers up, and I pressed my hips forward, meeting each thrust. Couldn't help myself.
I pressed my forehead to hers, teeth clenched, eyes shut tight. She talked to me, mouth hot against my ear until the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
"Fuck, Cam."
The orgasm hit fast. I gasped against her neck and came around her fingers until she gripped my ass as hard as she could.
Nails clawed at her collar, thighs crushing her fingers.
Trying to come as quietly as I could, I yanked her closer, and this time I bit her for real. Her moan quickly turned into a yelp.
Cam kissed me like she didn't care if our lip gloss was smeared for the rest of the night. She probably hoped it would be. She rocked soaked fingers against me until nothing else mattered except the heat and the wanting and the way my body melted around her.
After, I couldn't see straight. I must've gone somewhere else for a second, because when I came down, she was just standing there, kissing my mouth open. Breathing hard, holding me up like it was nothing.
I breathed out against her cheek, shaky, a little busted up. Cam held on until I softened, then eased her grip. Her hands were gentle now. Careful. She tugged the dress back over my hips, ran her thumb over my slit like a promise, eyes dark. I jerked into her hand, involuntarily.
"There you are," she murmured, fixing my lipstick with her thumb. Grinned as she pulled out of me. Braced her arm against the wall, boxing me in. So smug, even while trying to catch her breath.
"Shut up," I said, but it came out without any teeth. I never did shit like this. Not in public, not with my ass hanging out, not with the taste of a woman's lip gloss on my tongue. Body buzzing with aftershocks, and all I could do was hold on because my legs went weak.
"You okay?" Quieter now. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, eyes searching mine as if the answer actually mattered. "Hey. Look at me. You good?"
I nodded. Found my voice somewhere. "I'm good."
"Yeah you are. Go on. They'll miss you." She kissed my temple, soft, lingering. "Call me later?"
I caught her mouth one last time, pressed it to mine. "Yes."
We straightened up. She tugged my dress back into place one last time, checked the hallway. I smoothed her collar. Voices were closer now. A woman laughed, some exec, probably heading to the same VIP toast I was supposed to be at.
I walked past her on wobbly legs, heartbeat thudding in my ears, and didn't look back.