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“Here,” he said, rising. “Brought you something to help keep you warm.”
He held one of his skull caps and as he raised his hands, I caught the scent of his shampoo. I stood still as he pulled it down over my head, taking the time to tuck my hair back behind my ears before he was done.
“Thank you,” I told him.
Cam smiled as he grabbed the other bag and moved back against the pillows. I carefully made my way over to him and sat beside him. He pulled out the bucket of fried chicken and drinks we’d picked up on the way.
The movie started to play—an old one that seemed to be some kind of yearly custom, because there were several shouts and cheers as the first scene rolled across the massive screen.
“Home Alone?” I asked, looking at Cam.
He snickered. “It’s like a Thanksgiving tradition around these parts.”
I grinned. “I haven’t seen this movie in forever.”
As Kevin McCallister appeared on screen, pouting and glaring at his family, we dug into the chicken, leaving behind a path of crumbled napkins in our wake. By the time Kevin’s mom yelled his name on the plane, my tummy was full and I was sure that Cam had eaten an entire chicken.
The blanket around my shoulders kept the bulk of the cold air away, but every so often, I shivered, especially when the wind picked up.
“Why don’t you come over here?” Cam said, and I turned to him, brows raised. “You look cold.”
I shifted closer, but that apparently wasn’t close enough. He tugged the blanket off me and then leaned back. Lifting me up, he placed me between his widespread legs.
My eyes practically popped out of my head.
Cam spread the blanket over me, tucking the edges around my neck. I sat with my spine straight for several moments, staring at the screen, but not really seeing it. Then his arms snaked under the blanket and around my waist. He tugged me back so I was fitted against his front.
Muscles tense, I forced myself to take several slow, deep breaths. Just as I had my breathing somewhat normal, his hands slid to my stomach.
“Is this warmer?” he asked, his breath stirring the hair around my ear.
Throat closed off, I nodded.
One hand moved up, settling under my breasts and the other shifted to rest under my belly button, over the band on my jeans. It felt like his hand was on fire. Immediately, my skin warmed in those areas.
“Good,” he murmured. “I promised you that I’d keep you warm.”
He was definitely keeping me warm. “You did.”
Under my breasts, his thumb began to move, tracing small, idle circles. Then, a few seconds later, the hand below started to move up and down, a slow continuous movement that caused my breath to start coming faster.
Each time his fingers moved over the flap covering the zipper, it tugged gently on my jeans, causing the seam of my pants to push against me. I had no idea if he knew that was happening. Knowing Cam, I’d have to go with a yes. In a matter of minutes, I was throbbing down there.
I let my head fall back against his chest and my eyes drifted shut. The acute sensation he was creating was mind blowing.
“Avery?”
“Hmm?”
There was a pause. “Are you paying attention?”
“Uh-huh.” I shifted restlessly.
Cam chuckled, and I knew without a doubt that he was fully aware of what he was up to. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to miss any of this.”
I wasn’t missing a single second of this.
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