Chapter 25
JACK
I don’t know what the fuck I am doing or what my endgame is in taking Camile back to my place.
I just know I couldn’t go a single minute longer without having her to myself.
I’m telling myself I’m being supportive.
She’s just killed a man, and even if that man deserved it, that shit does something to a person.
We reach my place, and I lead her into the living room.
She drops onto the couch, and, without bothering to ask, I go to the liquor cabinet and pour out a couple of stiff measures of whiskey and hand one to her.
She sniffs it, wrinkles her nose, but downs it in one.
She coughs and splutters a little, but holds out her empty glass for another, which I give her.
She nurses this drink, and I take a gulp of mine.
The liquid heat spreads through my body, loosening my limbs and warming my insides.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
I want to go and sit beside her, but I’m not sure I trust myself getting so close.
She takes a shaky breath and nods. “I’m glad he’s dead.
I’m glad I was the one who did it. When I see my family again, I can look them in the eye and tell them I was the one who put an end to him.
I took revenge for the murder of our father.
Maybe the magnitude of that will hit me later, when I’m alone and have had time to think, but right now I’m just happy he’s gone. ”
“I’m proud of you. I meant it when I said that. You’ve got some serious balls.”
She gives a tiny smile. “Balls are weak and fragile, and men cry when they’re hit. I’ve got some serious vagina. They can take a pounding.”
I chuckle at that. “Sounds about right.”
She turns her face, her cheeks flushing pink. “Speaking of vaginas…”
I frown, wondering where the hell this is going.
She continues. “Before I was taken, I went to the clubhouse. I dressed like one of the sweetbutts, and I stood in a corner, and well, something happened…”
My stomach knots. Oh, fuck. I think I know what she’s about to say. My hand tightens around my whiskey glass and my feet root to the floor. I swallow hard, feeling my Adam’s apple rolling down my throat and the cords in my neck tense.
She ducks her head as though she can’t quite look at me.
“Then this evening, I saw Felicia at the bonfire, and obviously she was there that night. She saw me watching her and Tank together, and she also saw the man who’d been standing behind me while I was watching.
” Camile lifts her molten brown gaze and locks it with mine.
I’m fucked. “She said that man was you. Was she right?”
Shit. I’d been careless and stupid letting myself be seen. Of course, it was a huge risk to take, and with all those people in the place, Camile was probably going to find out eventually. Had I wanted that? Did I commit such a reckless act so I could be found out and have no excuses left?
There’s no point in lying. It just makes me look like an even bigger asshole.
“Yes, she was right.”
Camile draws in a shuddery breath and her pretty lips part. She blinks, several times, her thick, dark lashes batting her cheeks, as though she hadn’t expected me to admit it.
“But… but…” she stutters. “Why?”
“I couldn’t help myself. You looked so fucking sexy, and you were all hot and bothered watching Felicia and Tank. I could see you squirming and pressing your thighs together. I mean, I don’t blame you, they are fucking hot when they get it on in public like that.”
“But why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
“I guess a part of me knew that if I did, everything would change between us. I was still hanging on to the possibility that I could keep things platonic.”
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “By fingering me in the clubhouse?”
“By you not knowing who fingered you in the clubhouse.” I clear my throat. “Which kind of pisses me off, by the way, that you’d let a stranger do that to you.” Christ, in her mind, it could have been anyone. It makes me murderous to think about.
“Jack,” she says, her tone curt, “you don’t have a single leg to stand on with that bullshit.”
I duck my head. “I know I don’t. I just hate how fucking crazy jealous you make me feel, even when I don’t have the right to put a single claim on you.
I know you’re with Ace now, and that you have feelings for Rook.
I even see how Ghost is when you’re around, and how the fuck can I blame him?
” I blow out a breath and drag my hand through my hair.
“It all messes with my head so badly because I want you, but I know I can’t have you. ”
Her voice is breathy. “You can have me, Jack. It doesn’t change how I feel about the others, but you can have me, too.”
I hold her stare. “You know I can’t, and you know why. Nothing has changed.”
She gives the briefest of nods and drops her chin. But she isn’t done with me yet. “What did you do? After you made me come in the clubhouse?”
My cock hardens and lengthens at the memory. Can she see the effect she has on me?
“I went home and jacked off. I had you still on my fingers and I put them in my mouth so I could taste you while I came.”
Her breathing changes, her chest rising and falling. She lets out a tiny sound I can’t quite decipher.
“But I can’t go there again, Baby-girl. You need to know that. I’ve been beating myself up for being so fucking weak. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I’m happy you did. I thought it was you the whole time, but I didn’t know if it was just wishful thinking. At least now I know how it feels to have your fingers inside me. You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted that.”
I let out a growl and cover my face with my hand. “Fuck, Camile.”
“If you won’t touch me again,” she says tentatively, “tell me what you’d do if you could.”
“What?”
She sets down her whiskey glass, and I do the same.
“I mean it, Jack. I want to know. I understand you don’t want to touch me, that you don’t want to step over that line again, but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell me.”
Her words make me tense as I think of all the things I would do to her, with her.
She smiles, and it’s a smile that belongs to a much older, more worldly woman than Camile.
“Come on, Jack. What did you picture in your head while you were masturbating with the taste of me on your tongue. I know I’ve thought about you when I’ve been touching myself.
I’ve pictured you in my head and all the filthy things you’d do to me.
” She parts her jean-clad thighs as though inviting my line of sight to that part of her.
“Tell me what you’d do to me, if you could.
Would you suck on my nipples? Would you lick my pussy? Would you have me suck your cock?”
The idea of her sweet young mouth wrapped around my huge, pierced dick almost makes me come in my pants. She needs to know exactly what she’d be dealing with, surely? It’s almost a health and safety issue. The girl needs to know what she’d be taking on if she continues this.
Anyway, it doesn’t count, right? If we don’t touch each other. I can still say that a line hasn’t been crossed.
I’d crossed the line at the clubhouse and had felt guilty as sin for it.
I’ve tortured myself about it ever since, and the guilt had me suffering God-awful dreams where I’ve destroyed my family, singlehandedly.
In the nightmares, my wife stares down at me, judgement in her gaze, as Vani cries softly in the background.
I told myself it wouldn’t happen again, and I’ve kept my word, despite it being torture.
But this is different. This is… just a conversation.
“Let me see your cock, Jack. Please. I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see you come undone.”
“Fuck, Camile. You’re killing me.”
“I won’t touch you, I swear. Just let me watch.”
“Baby-girl…” I groan.
But my dick has grown to an uncomfortable size in my pants. It’s barely contained. If I show her my cock, will she do the same for me? Will she take off her clothes and spread her legs, and let me watch as she presses her fingers inside her tight little pussy? How can a man say no to that?
I unzip my jeans and reach in to pull out my hard-as-nails cock. It’s big enough when it’s not erect, but when it is, it’s a fucking monster.
Camile’s pretty brown eyes go wide, her lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ of shock.
“I’d hurt you with this,” I tell her. “It’s not only for selfish reasons that I’m holding myself back.” It’s the truth, too. I can’t taint her with my darkness. “You’re too young for me, too innocent and sweet.”
“I’m not as innocent anymore.” Her hands go to her jeans, and she lifts her ass and slides them off her hips, toeing off her boots at the same time so she loses the clothing all in one bundle.
Then she lifts the hem of her tiny top and pulls it up over her head, her hair swinging free in a dark, shiny sheet.
Fuck, she’s so perfect. Sitting there in only her bra and panties.
How will I ever get enough of her and sate this obsession when I’m not allowed to touch her?
Her fingers go to her bra strap. “Tell me, Jack. What are you doing to me?”
My voice is gruff, like I’m speaking past a knot in my throat. “I’m sliding your bra straps down your arms, so they hang lose. My fingers are brushing your skin, and it’s so soft. But my touch makes you break out in goosebumps and your nipples are tightening.”
She glances down at her chest as though to confirm it.
“Yes,” she breathes. “They are. Then what do you do?”
“I pull down the cups to expose your tits to the air.” She does as I describe, and I feast my gaze on her perfect breasts, not too big and not too small. The nipples are hard, deep pink buds, and my mouth waters, picturing myself sucking one into my mouth.
“I suck on them, licking and grazing my teeth over your nipples until they’re so sensitive you cry out.”