Cam’s lips swept over the hollow of my cheek and then his nose brushed mine. His breath was warm against my lips and smelled of sweet chocolate. Would it taste that way? The curiosity rose and I reached up, putting my hands on his biceps.
“Avery?”
My eyes drifted shut. “What?”
“You’ve never been kissed before, right?”
My pulse exploded. “No.”
“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “This isn’t a kiss.”
I opened my mouth and then his lips were on mine. A sweet sweeping of his lips across mine, breathtakingly tender and soft, and way too quick.
“You kissed me,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his sweater.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” his lips brushed mine as he spoke. Shivers raced up and down my spine. “Remember? If we’ve kissed, then that means you going home with me could potentially mean something more serious.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“This is also not a kiss.”
The press of his lips the second time consumed me, awakened me. His mouth was all I could think about, all I wanted to think about. A wonderful warmth slipped down my neck, spreading across my chest, and then lower, between my thighs. He kissed me gently, tracing the pattern of my lips with his own. Something deep inside me was rising, opening, and aching. I clung to him as he shifted and I was suddenly on my back.
Cam hovered over me, the powerful muscles of his arms flexing under my hands. His mouth was still on mine. No other part of our bodies touched and I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed by that. But his lips… oh, God, his lips moved against mine. I started to kiss him back, slower and clumsy where his had been sure, practiced. I was worried I was doing it wrong, but then a deep sound came from him, almost a growl and instinctively I knew it was a sound of approval. A shudder rocked its way down my body. The ache was spreading, intensifying and it was terrifying in its own way.
His kiss deepened, coaxing my lips to open to his. My senses spun as his tongue slipped in, licking over mine. I gasped at the sensation, and his tongue delved deeply. I fell into the kiss, my fingers clenching and my neck arching. He tasted of chocolate and man and I was coming out my skin as lust stirred in the pit of my stomach, followed by a burst of fluttery panic. That was smoothed away as his tongue flicked along the roof of my mouth. When he lifted his head again, he caught my lower lip between his teeth and a pleased whimper escaped me. Both of us were breathing heavy.
“Still not a kiss?” I asked.
Cam sat back, pulling me up into a sitting position. His eyes were that intense blue, hot and searing. I felt flushed all over. My chest rose and fell rapidly. My hands were still attached to his arms. He reached up, tracing the line of my lower lip and then he leaned in again.
“No, that wasn’t a kiss.” His lips brushed mine in the most tantalizing, promising way. “That was a goodnight.”
Chapter 17
Long after Cam had left, I lay awake in bed. This sleepless night was different than all others. Blew them right out of the water. My body felt foreign to me, achy and way too hot. I pushed the comforter off me already and the thin sheet still abraded my skin. I rolled onto my side, biting down on my lips as my thighs squeezed together.
I hated Cam.
Not really.
But I hated him for his ‘goodnight,’ and for him leaving, and for me being strung so tight that every time I shifted, my ultra-sensitive skin demanded more.
More.
I didn’t hate Cam.
Flopping onto my back, I shoved the sheet down. Cool air washed over my bare arms and across my chest. Underneath the cotton tank top, the tips of my breasts hardened and tingled, to the point that it went beyond annoying and straight into almost painful territory.
I brought my knees up and a moaned escaped my parted lips as the pressure pulsed from between my thighs to my breasts. Straightening my legs, I clenched the fitted sheet under me and tried to empty my thoughts, but all I could think about was Cam’s kiss, the way his lips felt against mine, how his tongue had been wet and warm inside my mouth. I could still taste the chocolate and I could still feel his muscles flexing under my hands. My breath caught at the phantom touch the memory of the backs of his hands brushing my breasts provoked.
What I was feeling was entirely new to me. Like Cam’s kiss had thrown a switch in my body, but I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t naive or so inexperienced to not realize that I was turned on. That my body had been woken up, like Sleeping Beauty coming out of her deep slumber, and my body demanded more.
My hand fluttered to my stomach and I jumped. Along my throat, my pulse kicked up, my heart stuttered. Between my thighs, the ache intensified. My eyes flew open and fixed on the dark ceiling. I held my breath as I slid my hand down. It was like an out of body experience, like I really didn’t have control of what I was doing.
I closed my eyes as I slipped my hand under the loose band of my sleep shorts. The muscles in my belly tightened, my breath quickened. The edges of my fingers reached the bundle of nerves down there and a shot of pure electricity lit through my veins. I bit down on my lip to stop the cry building in my throat. Heart now pounding, my fingers slid through the wetness that had gathered there.
Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this.
I couldn’t believe that it took this long to do this.
But I was beyond the point of stopping. In my mind, the image of Cam appeared. His blue eyes on fire with heat and his mouth against mine, coaxing me open, heavenly patient and yet determined. My fingers fumbled, because I really had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed to be working. I stroked myself and it felt good, but all it seemed to do was flame the fire, making it burn hotter. I felt swollen and I was sure I was going to scream my head off if the aching grew anymore.
I caught my lower lip between my teeth. My finger flicked back and forth before I drew in a deep breath and pushed in. A gasp escaped me as tension coiled. Okay. That was good. I pushed a little deeper and the pressure of my palm against the apex sent another jolt through me. My hips jerked and the burning in my core spread. Instinct seemed to have taken over. My hips rocked in a tiny circle and the tension built deeper and deeper. The noise that came out of my throat would’ve embarrassed me if anyone had ever heard it, but right now, in the darkness of my room, it made me hotter.
My hips ground against my hand and it felt like a cord being pulled into a tight knot deep inside me. I could feel it and I knew that it was coming, seconds away. In an instant, I pictured Cam doing this—his hand, his fingers and that was it. A moan erupted from deep inside my body as the cord unraveled, whipping through my body and scattering all my thoughts.
As my heart rate returned to normal and the trembles subsided, I collapsed back against the pillows, arms and legs shaking. Holy crap, so that was what that felt like? I rolled onto my side, my lips spreading into a weak grin. The pillow muffled my throaty laugh.
Somehow though, even as the pleasant, languid peace invaded my body, carrying me off to sleep, I knew that whatever I just felt, was lacking. That with a guy I wanted to be with—with Cam—all of that would’ve been amplified and I wanted that.
I wanted to feel that with Cam.
Brit and Jacob were just as surprised as I was that I’d agreed to go home with Cam over Thanksgiving break. I’d been afraid they’d lecture me on how absolutely insane this was, but they hadn’t. Both had acted like it was no big deal. Maybe the crazy was contagious? Besides, they’d been more interested in the other details of the date.
“So is he a good kisser?” Jacob asked.
I glanced around the class, praying that no one was paying attention. The professor hadn’t arrived yet and most looked half asleep.
Brit giggled. “Tell him what you told me yesterday.”
My cheeks warmed as I thought about what I’d told her on the phone when she’d asked me the same question.
“So he did kiss you?” Jacob’s dark eyes widened, but thankfully he kept his voice low.
Clenching my notebook to my chest, I ignored the way Brit bounced in her seat. “Yes.”
“Tell him,” she whispered.
Jacob nodded. “Tell me.”
I closed my eyes. “He’s a good kisser—a great kisser.”
“That is not what you said.”
A frown pulled at Jacob’s lips. “Tell me or I’m going to start shouting you kissed—”
“Okay,” I hissed, my entire body heating. The first kiss had been tender and soft. Even the second one had been a controlled exploration, but when I had laid back and he’d hovered over me? The ache was back just thinking about it, and well, that was awkward being that I was in history class. “He kissed me like he wanted to… eat me up.”
Brit giggled around her Twizzler.
Jacob’s mouth worked for several seconds and then, “I bet he did.” His brows were raised as he jerked his chin down. “Like he really wanted to eat—”
“I get what you’re saying. Thanks. Back to the important stuff,” I said, placing my notebook on my desk. “You don’t think going home with him is insane?”
Brit shook her head. “People go home with other people all the time. You know Rachel Adkins, right? She’s in your art class. She’s going home with Jared instead of flying back out to California.”
“Aren’t those two dating?” Jacob asked.
My shoulders slumped.
“Not anymore,” Brit said, pulling a Twizzler from her pack. She pointed the ropey red candy at me. “They broke up, but she still goes home with him.”
Still didn’t make me feel that much better about this. Throughout class, I alternated between paying attention to the lesson on the Middle Ages and wondering if I was really going to go through this next week while I nibbled on the Twizzler I’d swiped from Brit’s bag.
The truth was that going home with Cam wasn’t really even the issue. Yeah, it was about twenty-one flavors of crazy, but a huge part of me was even looking forward to it. I wanted to know more about Cam—to see his family and how he interacted with them. I wanted to know why he quit playing soccer and what he did every Friday night.
And I wanted… I wanted Cam.
In the way I hadn’t wanted a guy before, hadn’t even thought I’d truly be capable of wanting one. What I felt when he had kissed me was what I was supposed to feel. A tiny bit of panic had been there, was still there, but the curiosity overwhelmed that fear. So did the baffling warmth I felt whenever Cam was near.
There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to kiss Cam again. I wanted to experience what I had after he’d left with him. Kissing him wasn’t the problem. Going home wasn’t the problem.
I just didn’t know how much of this I was capable of. How far this—whatever it was—would actually go before old fears overshadowed the warmth.
Over the next week, I talked myself into and out of going with Cam about a million times. Right up to the moment I packed a weekender bag, I wavered back and forth. It wasn’t until I was sitting beside him in his truck Wednesday morning when I realized I was really doing this.
