Chapter 19 #2
She nods and wraps her scarf around her shoulders.
I take her hand and lead her down a path I’ve taken so many times before.
“Before my dad passed,” I start, “we spent a lot of time on Whitefish Lake fishing, camping, and picnicking at one of the many grill spots along this path. I have so many fond childhood memories out here.”
“Do you not come out here anymore?” she asks.
“No. Momma doesn’t enjoy it without Dad. She says this was his spot, and it's not the same without him. But I love it, and want to share it with you.”
Her hand tightens around mine and she leans into me. “How long ago did he die?”
“It was about ten years ago. Heart attack. He was the picture of health. It blindsided us and left us all a little stunned for a while after. But we’ve settled into a new routine without him. It’s not the same, but at least Momma is okay. That’s really all we worry about.”
“Yeah, your mom seems strong. Too strong to let anything get her down for long.”
“That’s true. She’s the rock that holds us all together.”
We fall quiet, and I can tell Camille is thinking about something. I close my eyes and cringe at the thought that I said something to set her off. What kind of idiot brings up his dead father right after a kiss like that? Me, apparently.
I squeeze her hand and lead her to a bench hidden amongst some trees.
It provides a perfect view of the lake and mountains, but it’s hidden from the walking trail and anyone passing by.
The moon is bright and provides just enough light to see the outlines of the mountains, but not too much to hide the stars. It’s a beautiful night.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up my dad. Kind of a mood killer, I guess.”
She waves off my concern and shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. It just got me thinking about Lizzy. Since Mark died, I haven’t exactly been a picture of strength for her.”
I pull her down next to me on the bench and cup her face. I have so much I want to say to her right now, but my fears stop me. If she doesn’t feel what I’m feeling, I’ll be devastated.
Instead, I tell her what I see in her. “You are strong, Cami. And brave. Look at you. You're strong enough and brave enough to start a new life for yourself. Most people who’ve lost what you’ve lost would give up.
You lost so much more than a husband. That takes time.
You have to be kind to yourself while you heal. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Her eyes swell up with unshed tears. I hate the idea of seeing her cry, and I kiss her.
My lips are gentle and soft against hers. I take this kiss slowly. She’s in pain, and being greedy is the last thing she needs from me.
But she has other ideas. This time, she’s demanding and claiming. She kisses me like she’s trying to leave a permanent mark—brand me with her lips, her tongue. And when she slides onto my lap and straddles me, I nearly choke on my air.
“Camille, I—” She takes my mouth with hers before I can get the words out. She knows what she wants from me right now, and she isn’t afraid to take it. It’s hot and sexy. And there isn’t anything I won’t give her.
Her hand runs down my chest and between my legs. She cups my hard cock, and I swell to the point it hurts against the strain of my pants. I can’t breathe. I can’t focus. And I don’t give a fuck that we’re sitting on a bench along a public hiking trail where anyone could happen upon us.
“Adam, I need you inside me. Now.” She unbuckles my pants before I can respond, freeing my very hard cock. When her soft hand wraps around my length, I gasp.
“Let me take you home,” I beg.
She shakes her head. “I need you now.”
She grinds her center into me, and I growl. The thought of fucking her like this on a park bench is exhilarating, and makes me even harder for her.
I slip my hands under her skirt and rip her thin lace panties in two. “I hope these weren’t your favorite pair.”
She chuckles against my mouth. “Irreplaceable.”
“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” I slip my finger down her slit and my hunger for her intensifies when I feel her wetness. She’s always wet and ready for me, and my ego fucking loves it.
“You can make it up to me by fucking me right here, right now.”
“My pleasure.” I slide a finger inside and relish the feel of her tightening around me.
Once her body adjusts to my finger, I slide in a second.
In slow, languid movements, I fuck her with my fingers.
When she takes control, and starts riding my hand, I can’t take it anymore. I need her riding my cock.
I pull my fingers out and lift her up until I’m aligned with her center. I slam her down on me while thrusting up. We both moan. The movement is so fast and hard, it almost hurts. But in the most pleasurable way imaginable. “Fuck, you feel good.”
“Adam, harder.” She rolls her hips, and I nearly come. I resist the urge to just let go—my mind focused on anything and everything except how tight she is around me. And how she squeezes my cock with every grind against me.
I dig my fingers into her hips and hold her tight against me, so I can slam into her hard and fast. I need to feel her come on me now.
Her body tightens, and she cries out as her release threatens to overtake her. I pull her mouth to mine to muffle her sounds. “Let go, Cami. Let me feel you come.”
As if she answers to me, she comes. I thrust even harder inside of her, dragging out her release until I join her.
Both of us spent, she drops her head to my shoulder. With my arms wrapped around her, I kiss her neck. I’m completely lost in this moment—and lost in her. Fuck, I think I love you.
Her head jerks up. “What?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and grimace. “Shit, did I say that out loud?”
As much as it pains me, I open my eyes to find her staring at me with wide eyes. She nods. Aside from shock, I can’t gage how those words make her feel. I didn’t mean to say them out loud, but I mean them, nonetheless. Now that they’re out, there’s no going back. I do the only thing I can do.
I own them.
“Actually, that’s not right. I know I love you. I think I’ve been falling in love with you since the day I ran into you outside Sweet Cakes.”
“Adam.” I place my fingers on her lips. If she doesn’t love me, I don’t want to hear it. Not yet, at least. Even if she doesn’t know how she feels yet, I’m not ready for any form of rejection. Saying those words out loud makes me vulnerable, and I’m not equipped to handle the emotional backlash.
“Don’t say anything. Not yet. I didn’t mean to say it until I thought you were ready to hear it.”
Her eyes glaze over as she nods. All shock is gone, and I can’t read the look on her face. But then she surprises me. She kisses me—a deep, sensual kiss that tells me she heard me, and she isn’t opposed to what those words might mean.
She stands with her hand held out. “Take me home and make love to me again.”
I quickly adjust myself and redo my pants. I stuff her ripped panties in my pocket before I take her hand and let her lead me back to the truck. I’m more than ready to give her what she’s asking for.