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“I distinctly remember you and Pam’s boys were conveniently sick for a couple days after everything went down.”
“I recollect things differently.” He clears his throat. “My perfectly valid point is, I could literally fulfill everyone’s wish list for Escondido, but if I screw up Founder’s Day, all my accomplishments will mean shit.”
“You are sadly one hundred percent accurate, but what does that have to do with me?”
“What better way for you to get back into the swing of things and rejoin the community by volunteering for the committee in charge of running the events leading up to the big day?”
“Events? As in plural? As in—”
“As in, you are a lifesaver.” Pedro pats my shoulder and retreats. For a man his size, he sure moves fast. “The first meeting is Monday at the community center. You’ll do great,” he yells while waving at me from three streets away.
“But isn’t it only three months from now?” I shout at his retreating back, but he doesn’t turn to answer me.
Well, damn. How do I find myself agreeing to things I have no business doing? Actually…I never agreed to Pedro’s sneaky pitch and ditch scheme. Now I have to find a way to bow out of this commitment without disappointing the other committee members.
Please don’t let them be the faction of retirees that run Escondido like the snuggle mafia. I already have trouble putting my foot down at home. Telling the hopeful geriatrics of Escondido Bay that I won’t help them will make me feel lower than low.
CHAPTERFIVE
Kenya
Start at the shaft.
Cameron’s voice whispers in my head, causing my body to react. I clench my thighs to temper the insane heat growing inside me.
Use your tongue.
I twist in bed, seeking relief as memories from my night with Cameron bombard me. After yesterday’s upheaval, my mind and body need rest. Yet, my body resists my brain’s reasonable request for sleep. It’s all Cameron’s fault.
Open your mouth and take all of me.
I punch my pillow in frustration. If not for the man renting my bungalow, I would still be ignorant about how to give a man a blowjob he’d enjoy. I’d also be blissfully unaware of how much I love sucking dick. My lips tingle and I lick them. I punch my pillow again, upset and disappointed by his flavor’s absence.
That night with Cameron, a side of me came out that I have difficulty reconciling. I made him come and before he fully recovered or caught his breath; I was on him again, ready to suck him dry however many times it took until I was satisfied.
That was a proud moment. Your shining achievement. You made him come so fast the second time; he called you Momma.
No, he did not!
But he wanted to.
I scream into my pillow, but there’s no point in trying to sleep anymore. The first hint of morning sun lightens the shadow in my bedroom. With my mind fixated on Cameron and the naughty things I did with him, there’s only one thing that can clear my head.
I retrieve the sketchbook I took with me to Felicidad, stretch out on the window seat, and begin drawing. Keeping my hands busy allows me to process most things. I’m hoping to process away Cameron’s unhealthy hold over my thoughts.
The sun creeps further into the sky, illuminating everything around me with its brightness. Time becomes nonexistent as shapes, shadows, and contours morph into bodies. My little distraction engrosses me to the point that a fire could break out and I wouldn’t notice. Or so I think.
A sixth sense or something like it prickles against my skin. I lay my book on the seat and look out into my backyard. There’s no movement along the path. When I’m about to shrug off the feeling, I make the mistake of glancing toward my guesthouse and I gasp.
Staring at me across the distance is my new tenant. If only all he does is stare, my mind wouldn’t be in a tizzy right now. He is completely naked. In the seconds it takes me to understand what I’m looking at, I’ve greedily cataloged everything. After all, we’d only seen each other’s privates before. This is my first glimpse of the red hair sprinkling down his broad chest leading my eyes on a trail to the one appendage I know too well.
He takes himself in hand, not once looking away from me. I gulp, wondering how my throat could be as dry as the Sahara yet water at the memory of him in my mouth. He pumps his length in long, slow strokes, pausing at his crown before journeying back to the root. Without conscious thought, I press my head against the window. My breath fogs the glass, distorting his performance.
I should look away. Walk…no, run from what he is doing to himself and the jealous monster inside me that wants to take control. Wants to feel his velvety skin inside my hands. Wants to tease and toy with him, amping our desires to a fever pitch until—
Unnerved by my thoughts, I’m at a loss for what to do. Should I hide? Ignore his provocation? Dismiss the desire rampaging through my body that is ruining my panties?
Mixed signals travel from my brain to my body. I lurch but rethink my action because of the potential message doing so will convey to Cameron.
