Chapter 16
When he got home from work that night, there was little trace of Cami to be found.
It didn’t look like she’d taken him up on his offer of breakfast. The covers on his bed were flung back haphazardly, and he found one of her socks on the floor.
Had she left wearing only one sock? The thought made him smile.
The least he could do was return it to her.
It was no glass slipper, but it would be a shame to let the dryer take the blame for another missing sock.
He was out the door before his brain kicked in so he texted Cami to warn her.
You busy?
It was gratifying that her response came almost immediately as he was settling onto the seat of his motorcycle and picking up his helmet.
Just got home. What’s up?
He grinned as he typed.
Is it okay if I stop by? I’ve got a present for you.
He didn’t wait for her assent before he left for the store, just assumed it was forthcoming. When he pulled into a parking spot in front of Sex on the Beach, there was a one-word text waiting for him:
Sure.
He’d never been to her apartment, hadn’t even been aware enough to take notice of the space above the store until she’d pointed out she lived there.
He popped his head into the store to ask about the entrance, and Tristan directed him to the side of the building where a metal staircase led to a door halfway up the brick wall.
It looked a little rickety, but he figured it was safe to assume that if it didn’t meet safety standards, Lenny wouldn’t have let Cami live there.
He climbed the stairs, helmet tucked under one arm, and knocked on the door.
It opened, and Cami was there, wearing a tank top and a cute little floral-print skirt.
He’d seen her that morning, when she’d been asleep in his bed, but the sight of her now still made something in his chest squeeze.
He cleared his throat into his fist, trying to shake it off the tight sensation, and cast her a smile. “Hey. Can I come in?”
With her brown eyes wide and her brow furrowed, she stepped aside and waved him in.
As he did so, the clean, muted floral scent of her enveloped him.
Not just from being near her, but it saturated this little apartment of hers.
The place was comfortable in a mismatched, homey way, and the air was warm and inviting.
It was a converted studio and used to just be storage space for the storefront below, but Cami had made it her own.
He turned toward her and held up her abandoned sock. “Your present. You forgot this at my place.”
To his amusement, she flushed and snatched the sock out of his hand. “Sorry,” she said. “I woke up late for class and left in a rush.”
He cocked his head. “Did you make it in time?”
“Almost.” She sighed, glancing away from him. “Do you want a drink?”
“Water would be great.” He followed her to the kitchenette, leaning one elbow on the breakfast bar attached to the counter.
As she retrieved a glass from a cupboard above the sink and filled it from a filtered jug in her fridge, he considered her.
He wasn’t sure if it was just that he was in her apartment, or something else, but she seemed nervous.
Her movements were jerky, and she wouldn’t look at him. “Everything okay?”
When she held out the water glass for him to take, she took a breath and straightened her posture, then fixed on a smile. “Of course.”
“Okay.” It was the least convincing thing he’d ever heard her say, but he decided to let it go. “Then there’s something I’d like to address.”
She wavered in front of him, her smile almost slipping off before she righted it.
“Right.” But before he could say anything, she launched into her own spiel.
“I’m so sorry I fell asleep last night. You could have woken me and sent me home, I wouldn’t have been offended.
Sleepovers were never part of the deal, and you’ve been so great, and I’d never intentionally take advantage of that.
It was an imposition, and I’m truly sorry. ”
He blinked. “Oh. No, Cami, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. There’s no problem, really.”
“Then—” Her brow furrowed adorably with her confusion. “Then what did you want to talk about?”
He probably should have taken some time to figure out how he wanted to phrase this before he rushed over. He moistened his bottom lip and laid his glass of water on her counter. “Well, you asked me to finger you.”
“Oh my God.” Her cheeks started to flush, and she covered her face with her hands, but he couldn’t help but laugh at her mortification.
“I mean, I get it. I have great fingers, and significant manual dexterity. But that wasn’t part of the deal, so I didn’t feel comfortable going that route at the time.
” She still hadn’t lowered her hands, but she’d cracked her fingers apart so she could peek at him.
“I’m not ruling it out, if that’s the way you want to go.
But we should talk about it when you’re not on the verge of a mind-melting orgasm. ”
She inched her hands down and studied him. He did his best to look earnest. “What does that mean? That you’re not ruling it out?”
“Well,” he considered, “we could amend the rules. So far, this has been strictly toy review. We could open the door to using...enhancements, as we see fit—like fingers, or...tongues, maybe.” The flush on her cheeks reignited, but this time her hands stayed by her sides.
She licked her lips, and, her gaze dropped to his mouth.
Her reactions were intriguing and more than a little flattering.
“It’s probably safer to keep things strictly toy-related.
” The admission came with some hesitation. “It’s less complicated that way.”
“But?” she prompted. He didn’t know if he imagined the hope in her voice, or if he was just projecting.
“But...” He sighed, at last letting his gaze trail over her body the way he constantly wanted to. “Damn it, Cami, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to touch you.”
Saying it aloud was like shucking a weighted vest. He could breathe without struggling, stand straighter. And unless he was further gone than he thought, something similar was happening to Cami. She inhaled, her stance wavering like she was struggling not to lean into him.
“Des,” she breathed. “Please.”
When his mouth found hers, a flood of warmth drenched his insides like a tsunami striking shore as if his blood rose up inside of him, bubbling with the heat of her lips.
His fingers found her hip and gripped her.
The other hand, he threaded into her hair.
He held her flush against him, and for a long moment, he didn’t try to deepen the kiss.
Instead, he savored the feel of her lips, soft, damp, and pliable.
Then he shifted his thumb, only slightly, but enough to slip under the hem of her shirt and press against her skin.
That was all it took, that barest of touches, for her to gasp against his mouth.
His restraint snapped. He curled his fingers in her hair into a fist and the ones on her hip squeezed.
She didn’t pull away, didn’t stop him. She wanted this as badly as he did.
He only held her so close because he’d wanted to touch her for so long.
Now that his hands were on her, it would be hell to let her go.
The ferocity of his need stunned her at first, but she seemed to come back to herself quickly enough.
She threw her arms around his neck, arcing her body against his so much she almost bent backward over the couch.
Her tongue swept through his mouth, and when he pawed her ass in response, she groaned like she had when he’d fucked her with that godforsaken dildo.
She was as frantic as he was, hiking her leg up to hook her knee on his hip.
They didn’t part to breathe. Their kiss only broke for seconds at a time, just long enough to pant in enough air to keep them going for another taste.
It was only when she rocked against the throbbing ridge of his erection that his attention shifted, lips drifting down her jaw to mouth at her neck. “Let me fuck you, Cami, please.”
“God, yes,” she gasped, her voice shredded, “Please, Des, I need—”
She cut herself off, unable to articulate what she wanted. She told him instead with hot puffs of air against his ear, with the dig of her nails into his shoulders, and with the demanding grind of her body across his lap.
It was artless and desperate, the way he pushed her butt onto the back of the sofa and her skirt over her hips.
He just shoved her panties to the side, unable to pull away far or long enough to take them off.
When he slid his fingers between her thighs, he wasted a moment to test her wetness on the pads of his fingers before he slid them into her, as deeply as he could manage.
Her breath hitched against his mouth, the sound punctuated with a squeak that shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was.
She was hot and slick against his fingers, and for a moment, he was dizzied by the realization that he was touching her at last. He’d seen her come before, relished the whiny little gasps she made when something felt good, but it had always been one of his goddamn toys.
What a stupid idea that had been. How stupid he’d been to think he could keep his hands off her.
“Cami,” he breathed. He felt more than saw her nod, took it to mean she knew how misguided they’d been to try to avoid this.
When he crooked his fingers up, swiped his thumb over her clit, her hips jerked toward him.
Her wordless encouragement rushed another swell of need through him, and he pulsed behind his zipper.
Avoiding this so long had been his stupidest mistake.
Now that he knew what she felt like inside, he’d never be able to control himself again.
He cursed against her lips, was barely able to summon the willpower to pull his fingers from her lush body to delve them into his back pocket.
He fumbled his wallet open, spilling needless bullshit over her floor in an attempt to free the condom he’d stowed there.
The wallet fell away, too, when he found the foil packet, one hand moving to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt.
She had the same idea, her fingers tangling with his, and she smiled at their mutual eagerness.
Like an overzealous high school kid, he shoved his pants out of the way and to the floor. “Hurry up,” he heard, and he had to stifle a laugh at how spoiled she sounded.
“Don’t rush me,” he scolded, but he did slide the condom over his shaft with a bit more haste than usual.
“Finally.” It came out like an exhale as she reached for him, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him firmly between her legs. She took hold of his shoulders for balance as he hooked his hand under her knee, the other taking hold of his cock.
Once he was in place, the blunt head of him brushing the lips of her pussy, her grip flexed, nails digging into his shoulders. Even through the latex, the damp warmth of her seeped into his skin.
When he couldn’t take the wait any longer, he pushed into her, one long thrust straight home.
Like it had the first time he’d slid that dildo into her, a high-pitched, needful noise escaped her throat; this time, though, it was punctuated with something deeper.
Her hips shifted, like she couldn’t get him in far enough, like she needed him to consume every inch of her.
His heart thudded in his chest, swelling with fondness for the pure, undiluted way she craved his touch.
He settled into a rhythm, quick but thorough, never pulling all the way out because he’d spent too much time not inside of her.
His mouth landed on the sweet curve of her neck, his free hand shoving up under her shirt to find her breast. He pushed the satin cup of her bra out of the way and laid his hand over her, to feel her nipple pebble against his palm and the racing thud of her heart against her chest. She made the sweetest little noises when he fucked her, noises he swallowed when she steered his mouth to hers with delicate fingers on his jaw.
“You gonna come for me, Cami?” he asked against her mouth. For a brief, confusing moment, she tensed but that melted away when he began to rub her clit again.
“Yes,” she breathed, her fingers skirting from his jaw to the back of his head, entwining in his hair.
“You feel so good.” His thumb moved in tight decisive circles over her, his speed picking up in time with her panting.
Her other hand, hanging onto his shoulder as hard as she could manage, shifted until she could dig her fingernails into him.
It stung even through his shirt, damp with sweat and sticking to his chest, but he relished the pain because it meant she, too, was having trouble containing the immensity of the pleasure coursing through her.
Finally, she came, clenching around his shaft so tight that it was all he could do to hold back long enough for the waves of her orgasm to subside.
He fucked her all the way through it, doing his best to keep his pace even, and it was only when the nails in his shoulder unclenched that he let himself go.
With his hand splayed between her shoulders, his face buried in her hair, he spilled into the condom, burying himself as deep inside her as he could get.
When the orgasm passed, his body went lax. He leaned on her, using her soft, sweet embrace to keep himself upright. Then, as soon as he was sure he could stay standing, he pulled back just far enough to kiss her again.