Chapter 8
He stayed on the phone for close to an hour before she fell asleep.
He wasn’t sure at what point she stopped masturbating, or if she’d kept going until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, but he’d tried to talk her through it.
When he’d sensed her starting to push herself, Des walked her back a bit, asked her to focus on slow movements over her clit instead of penetration, gentle motions instead of purposeful ones.
And, goddamnit, it had nearly killed him.
Hearing Cami when she was that turned on, listening to her pant into the phone as she fucked herself with her fingers, had had him so hard he couldn’t see straight, and he might have actually given himself an aneurism by ignoring it.
But she’d trusted him enough to let him help her, and his own sexual gratification had never been part of that.
It would have been sleazy of him to turn the help he’d offered her into a way for him to get his rocks off.
So his cock had stayed firmly in his pants and he’d white-knuckled through it.
Afterward, when the call had disconnected, was another story. He’d hopped in the shower and fucked his fist for all of three jerky thrusts before he painted the tile wall with his come. Frankly, he was surprised he’d lasted that long. She’d sounded so unbearably hot.
The fact that she couldn’t come was none of his business.
He should leave it alone, but something inside him ached that a woman like Cami might think there was something wrong with her.
She was fun and smart and witty, and she deserved the kind of orgasms that would make it hard for her to walk.
And, God help him, he wanted to help her get there.
He was still riding the high of hearing her exhale his name when he pushed into Sex on the Beach the next afternoon.
At the sound of the bell jingling to announce his presence, a blonde head poked up from behind a four-way display.
“Hi,” Cami greeted. It wasn’t her usual customer service voice, which made him feel special in an incredibly stupid way, but there was a hint of nerves to her tone that wasn’t typical of their interactions either.
She ducked back behind the four-way to finish what she was doing, but not before he had time to note the blush that started to taint her cheeks.
He supposed he couldn’t blame her.
He crossed the store, weaving around various displays of increasingly expensive sex paraphernalia, and finally joined her at, fittingly enough, a small selection of DVD pornography, for those who hadn’t upgraded to streaming.
She was sorting them alphabetically, and, from the looks of it, by kink. He squinted at one of the titles.
“There’s a DVD of people jerking off on bare feet?”
He was gratified to see the way the corners of her mouth pulled as she fought a smile. “From the creators of .”
“I see. What rating did your feet get?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She straightened up, clutching the now-empty cardboard box the DVDs had been shipped in, and unsubtly glanced around the store. Probably checking for other customers. Then, she asked, her voice shier, more hesitant, “How are you?”
He couldn’t help but prod her, just a little. Smirking, he said, “A little tired.” Her cheeks flushed crimson, and he took pity on her. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I was happy to... help, I guess.”
Her eyes met his, and she smiled. “You did help, I think. I appreciate it anyway.” Then she knocked out the bottom of the cardboard box so she could unfold it for the recycling bin, and turned away to head for the check-out counter. He followed.
“Good. Because I’d like to help some more.”
Cami skirted around the counter and opened the back office door only to throw the broken down cardboard into it and then close the door again. She turned back to him with a careful expression. “Help how, exactly?”
“Camille Sutherland,” he said seriously, “I would very much like to help you come.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. He had to fight a grin that threatened. She was adorable when she was flustered. He waited patiently as she took a breath and then lowered her arm, fixing him with a faintly inquisitive look. “What do you propose?”
“I propose that we—I—purchase a selection of toys available here in the store, and then we get together at a time convenient for you and test them out.” He appreciated her playing along with his faux-professionalism.
It made the whole thing seem much more palatable than please let me go to town on you with sex toys.
Her eyes widened ever-so-slightly with his words, but he pressed on.
“Some are bound to be more pleasurable for you than others. With any luck, we’ll find one or two that do the trick for you.
If we take it slow, make sure you’re in the right state of mind, and listen to your body, I have no doubt we’ll find a product that fits your needs. ”
She blinked once slowly, and then several times in quick succession, as though she thought she might be hallucinating. Then she said: “What?”
The professional veneer fell away and he smiled softly, taking a step toward her but careful not to infringe on her personal space.
“I’d really like to help you out, Cami. I think if we try a few different toys in a low-pressure environment, we can get you there.
And if it doesn’t work at first, we can try something else.
Even if you don’t get off, I imagine you’d have a pretty good time. ”
The flush was back, working its way through the apples of her cheeks in a way that made him want to chase it with his lips.
“This isn’t a ploy to get into your pants,” he continued.
“I won’t take my clothes off any more than necessary.
I won’t even touch you with my hands. Toys only. Absolutely nothing improper.”
“Nothing improper,” she repeated, sounding a little dazed. “Just sex toys.”
“Right. And only if you want to.” He hurried to add the last part. “I hope this isn’t wildly out of line. I just... given last night, I thought...” He hesitated, his body remembering the sounds she’d made when she played with her own nipple. “I thought I might be of further help. That’s all.”
He fell quiet and turned his attention to studying her.
He watched carefully for any flicker of expression on her face, any tightening around her mouth or eyes that might signal disgust or irritation, but there was none.
Instead, she studied him back. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but he hoped she found the answer she wanted.
“Okay,” she said finally.
“Okay?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Okay.” She nodded. “Friday night. We’ll try. But if I can’t come, that’s the last time.” Only then did her mouth grow tight, lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t want to keep trying and failing. It... it hurts too much.”
“I understand.” One shot. He had one shot with Cami, and he had to make it count. “Just promise me you won’t spend the rest of this week getting in your head about it. I don’t want to start at a disadvantage.”
A smile ghosted across her lips. “I’ll try not to.”
“If you start getting worked up,” he teased, hoping to lighten her mood, “just imagine me shirtless.”
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, sarcasm leaking through her words. “Guaranteed to stop me from getting worked up.”
His jaw dropped with faux surprise and he clutched his chest as if he was scandalized. “Camille! Am I in your spank bank?”
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, but not quickly enough to hide the reddening of her chest under the collar of her shirt. “You can go now. I have to get back to work.”
“Me too.” He backed toward the door, saluting at her in farewell. “I have an evening of toy reviews to plan. I’ll see you Friday.”
He forgot to even ask if Lenny was in.
Just as she finished counting the cash, there was a knock on the locked door.
She glanced up, sliding the tray out of the register in a motion that had become second nature in the months since Lenny had hired her.
She laid it on the counter then slipped around it to open the door.
Lenny stood on the other side of the glass, a travel cup of chai tea in her hand and oversized sunglasses perched on her nose.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greeted, breezing into the store and locking the door behind her.
For a heavyset woman in her late sixties, she exuded youth.
Her hair was salt-and-pepper and shoulder-length on one side, buzzed on the other.
As usual, she wore a brightly coloured poncho that smelled faintly of marijuana. “How was it today?”
“Pretty standard.” Cami strolled to the counter to take the cash trays to the safe. She’d never hesitated to tell Lenny about Des’s visits before, but her cheeks heated at just the thought of it this time. “Des came in again.”
“Uh huh.” Lenny’s lips tugged at the corners, like she was trying not to smile, and Cami’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
The older woman hid her not-a-smile by taking a long sip from her tea.
“Let me guess. He asked for me, and when I wasn’t here, he spent the next hour hanging around the store, undressing you with his eyes. ”
Cami hitched her chin up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lenny snorted. “Sure.”
She’d never been very good at girl talk, but as she considered the situation Cami wondered if it wouldn’t be a boon to have someone else’s input on her not-a-date.
Lenny was the closest friend she had here in Los Angeles, despite their age difference.
She could call one of her friends in Tennessee, but she doubted they’d approve.
Sexual trysts with virtual strangers were a little out of their realm of comprehension.
“I’m going to his place on Friday,” she blurted.
For a long moment, Lenny didn’t react. She went very still and squinted a bit, as though she thought she’d misheard. “Why?”