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“Yes.” Cam slid his hand down, under the band of my jeans so that his fingers rested over the swell of my rear. He brushed his lips over my brow. “What do you think?”
I wasn’t thinking. Tipping my head back, Cam obliged my silent invitation. His lips were mine and then his hands were under my shirt. He broke away long enough to tug my shirt off and then his. Lips melded together, we started walking, our hips bumping into the couch and he lost his balance. He fell backward, half on the couch and half off. Giggles broke free between our kisses and our laughter died off as our hands got more involved. With a skill beyond me, Cam managed to get my jeans off while I sprawled on top of him and then he displayed a whole different kind of talent.
His hands traveled northward, cresting over my breasts, finding the nipples covered by satin. I arched against his hands, biting back a moan as Cam made that sexy sound as his hips pushed up against mine. A rush of heat flooded my core as one hand left my breast and slipped down the curve of my stomach. His hand slid under my panties. He palmed me, rubbing his thumb in just the right place that I cried out. The desire—the need to lose myself in nothing but sensation, even for just a few moments, took over. My skin was on fire as I put my weight on my knees and reached down, unzipping his fly.
“Avery,” Cam groaned, thrusting into my palm.
Upon hearing my name on his lips, tension built deep inside me. Our bodies rocked together, but still apart. Then the tension was spiraling, breaking apart and shattering. I threw my head back, biting down on my lip. Bliss washed over me.
Cam shifted under me and the next thing I know, he was standing and I was wrapped around him like a little monkey. My body was still trembling when I hit the bed. In a heated daze, I watched him strip. Completely.
My God, he was beautiful.
He hooked his fingers under my panties and I lifted my hips so he could pull them down. It wasn’t the first time that he’d stripped me bare, but it was the first time that we both were so naked. There were different stages of nakedness I’ve learned over the past four months. This was the final stage. My stomach fluttered.
Cam hovered over me, his lips trailing a path across my body. My fingers were in his soft hair as he came back up, claiming my mouth. He shifted above me and I felt him on my thigh.
My heart stuttered and then sped up.
A tremor coursed over his body or maybe it was mine causing his to do that, because I think I was shaking. I didn’t know if it was from excitement or something else. My hands found his chest and they flattened there.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice strained as he held himself back. “Yes,” I said, and I told myself that I did. And I did want this. I wanted to cross that final line with Cam.
His eyes met mine for a moment and then he bent his head, kissing me as he lowered his body upon mine. I felt him there, the tip of him slipping through my wetness, and I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the weight of him on top of me or the feel of him between my thighs. For a frightening second, I wasn’t in my bedroom or under Cam. I was back on the couch, my cheek pressed roughly into the coarse fabric. Cold air rushed over my exposed lower body, followed by a rough, demanding hand. I tried to push the memory out of my head and focus on what was really happening, but once it crept in, I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Every muscle in my body locked up and the knot of unease from earlier in the day returned with a vengeance. It was like being hit with an arctic blast. I went cold on the outside and inside. Panic dug in with razor sharp claws.
I twisted my head to the side, breaking the kiss as I pushed against his chest. “No. Stop. Please stop.”
Cam froze above me, his chest rising and falling deeply. “Avery? What the—?”
“Get off.” My skin was crawling as pressure clamped down on my chest. “Get off. Please. Get off me.”
He rolled off me in an instant, and I scrambled across the bed, grabbing the comforter and tugging it up over me. I shot to my feet, backing up until I hit the dresser. Bottles of lotion rattled. The soft thud of them hitting the floor snapped me out of it. My heart was racing so fast I thought I’d be sick.
“Oh God,” I whispered hoarsely. There was a good chance I was going to hurl the baked pretzel we’d shared earlier.
Light from the hallway cast strange shadows over half of Cam’s pale face. His eyes were as big as the moon. He stared at me, brows pinched with concern. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t—”
“No. No!” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even… I don’t know. I’m sorry…” I trailed off, having no idea what to say.
Cam took several deep breaths, planting his hands on the bed. “Talk to me, Avery. What just happened?”
“Nothing.” My voice cracked. “Nothing happened. I just thought—”
“You thought what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal—”
“Not a big deal?” His brows flew up. “Avery, you just scared the shit out of me. You started panicking like I was hurting you or—or like I was forcing you to do this.”
Horrified, I felt my stomach drop. “You weren’t forcing me, Cam. I liked what you were doing.”
Several seconds passed and then he said, “You know I would never hurt you, right?”
“Yes.” Tears clogged my throat.
“And I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” He spoke slowly, each word precise. “You understand that, right? If you’re not ready, I’m okay with that, but you have to talk to me. You have to let me know before it gets to that point.”
