by Marie James
I’m on top of the fucking world, flying so high, I don’t bother to ask if she’s okay with it as I slide in beside her in the booth rather than sitting across from her.
“You say the waffles are good, but the French toast looks to die for.”
We go back and forth before she decides on the French toast, and since I’m a creature of habit, I stick with the waffles.
“Oh, just orange juice for me,” she tells the waitress when she asks for our drink orders.
I decide on coffee since I didn’t get hardly any sleep after leaving her alone in her bed last night. The night before, I’d slept like a baby, and one of the things that filled my time as I stared up at my ceiling unable to sleep last night was wondering if it’s possible to form a habit after only spending one night with her in my arms.
I’m debating how to bring up the topic of staying with her tonight when she shifts her weight on the bench and turns in my direction.
“What classes are you taking this fall?”
“Really?” I smile at her. “You want to talk about school?”
“I figure we should get to know each other better.” Her response makes sense, but it’s the way her eyes dart away when she says it that makes me wonder if that’s what she really wants to know.
“Why don’t you ask what you’re really dying to know, Cam.”
She swallows thickly but doesn’t pull that ‘Dr. Davison’ shit again. See? We’re growing as a couple already.
“I want to know who Kennedy Farmer is to you.”
Shit.
Now, I’m wishing she’d corrected her name instead.
“We’re talking about our exes now?” I pull her hand from my lap because if she really wants to know, I’ll tell her, but I honestly don’t see the point in looking backward. “I’ll share, but I don’t want to hear about a single man that came before me.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” she says as if I’m not well aware of our age difference. “I have a past.”
“I’m twenty-two, and so do I.”
“And I’m asking about it,” she reminds me. “Tell me about Kennedy.”
I get a thirty-second reprieve when the waitress drops off our drinks, and I draw it out another half a minute by adding sugar and creamer packets to my coffee. Ever patient, she watches in silence, raising her eyebrow to let me know she’ll not be deterred when I look up at her again.
“I dated Kennedy my senior year in high school.”
“She’s very pretty.”
“She’s got nothing on you.”
“Flattery will not get you out of this conversation.”
I press my lips against hers, and as quick as she is to return the kiss, she’s even quicker to end it by pulling away. Her eyes dart around the diner, checking to see if we’re making a spectacle of ourselves. I don’t care who’s watching. I can’t take my eyes off hers and the way her cheeks pink with embarrassment.
“Not into PDA? I have to say, I know it’s early on, but you better get used to it. I’m an affectionate guy.”
“I don’t mind PDAs, but I do mind you using it to try and distract me from the conversation.”
“Seems only fair.” I brush my lips against hers again. “You distract me all the time.”
“Stop.” She swats at my chest, but there isn’t an ounce of real agitation in her action. “Talk. Were you two serious?”
“I mean…” My fingers play with the silverware roll in front of me. I don’t know why this feels so weird to me. Maybe because I don’t want to hear about her past, worried it’s going to piss me off, maybe? “It was high school, so how serious can it be? We were each other’s first.”
“That’s pretty serious.”
“We were together our entire senior year, planning to both go to college in Denver. She told me two weeks before we were leaving that she got hired on as a drummer in a band and that I’d have to go to college without her.”
“Do you think you’d still be together now if she’d gone to college instead of joining a band?”
“No,” I answer with absolute certainty.
“Really?” The look on her face makes it clear she doesn’t believe me.
“Kennedy came from a different background than you and I did,” I try to explain. “She wanted to leave town and never come back. Hell, I thought I wanted the same thing. We talked for a solid year about going to school and finding jobs overseas. We didn’t plan on looking back. She took off to California, and I lasted three weeks in Denver before I was so sick of being gone that I came home for a visit. Friday night was the first time she’d been back to Farmington since she left the summer after our senior year, and she told me while we were talking that she had no intentions to even visit with her family while she was in town. They were there for two sets and were leaving the second they were done.”
“You were always going in two directions.”
“Exactly. That’s how I know we wouldn’t have lasted. She’s a great girl. A little messed up from the way she was raised, but she’ll find the right guy eventually. It was just never me.” Cam gives me a weak smile. “And she isn’t the one I’m supposed to end up with.”
Camryn’s eyes widen when I brush a strand of hair behind her ears.
“Stop.” She presses her hand against my chest. “If you start talking about destiny, and spouting that I’m that girl, I can warn you it won’t go well.”
The laugh that escapes my lips is loud and boisterous. “I wasn’t, I swear! I just can’t seem to be close to you without touching you.”
“Well,” she says as she looks over my shoulder and straightens in the booth, “put your thigh against mine. That’s all the touching you get for the next twenty minutes.”
I look up at the waitress as she places our plates on the table.
“That French toast looks amaz—” I begin before she interrupts.
“Touch my food, and I’ll stab you with my fork.”
“Fine,” I concede as I lean down close to her ear. “I guess I’ll just have to settle for licking the taste off your lips when you’re done.”
She doesn’t reply, but the goosebumps that cover her forearms are telling enough.
I make good on my promise, kissing her until we’re both delirious before we even leave the booth. We’ve told the waitress we don’t need anything else enough times that she’s given up on us leaving anytime soon and has stopped coming to the table.
“We should get out of here,” Cam whispers against my mouth, just as I’m seconds away from slipping my hand down the front of her scrub pants. “I have work in the morning.”
“Crap. Sorry,” I tell her as I slide from the booth, checking my watch. It’s almost midnight, and I know she has to work early. She waits at my side while I take care of the check, and this time, she’s the one reaching for my hand as we walk back out to my bike.
“You’re going to have to teach me how to drive one of these things soon,” she says as she climbs on behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Sure,” I agree, not able to focus on anything other than the heat between her legs as she presses herself to me. I swear it’s ten degrees hotter than it was on the way over here.
Chapter 22
Camryn
“You didn’t have to follow me home,” I tell him just before pressing my lips to his one last time. “But thank you.”
With weak legs, I climbed off Samson’s bike back at the hospital to grab my Jeep. The entire way back to my apartment complex I let thoughts of how this night could end run through my head.
“Had to make sure you got home safely.” I feel his smile against my lips. “You’ll call me if you want to hang out after work tomorrow?”
How do I tell him I don’t want him to leave right now?
“I will,” I promise.
“Sleep well, baby.” When I step away, he lifts his bike between his powerful thighs and uses the back of his boot to pop the kickstand up. “I need to make sure you get inside
before I go.”
Giving him a little wave, I head toward the door of my apartment, and every single step I take I convince myself that turning around and begging him not to leave is a bad idea. By the time I’m inside, I’m kicking myself for not putting the offer out there, but I don’t even make it to my room before I’m running back to the door to catch him before he leaves.
I hit him in the chest after taking one step out my front door.
“You didn’t even give me time to knock. Did you forget something?”
I nod, taking a step back so I can look up into his bright blue eyes.
“What did you forget?”
“You,” I whisper.
“Me?” He stalks toward me and feeling like prey, I match each of his forward steps with a backward step of my own. “What were you going to say to me when you got back down to my bike?”
“Please don’t go,” I answer honestly. “I w-want you to stay the night.”
He pauses on his trek across the room to close the door and make sure the locks are in place before he begins to track me with his eyes again.
“Is that all?” His husky voice makes my stomach flutter.
“I owe you a blowjob.” My eyes widen when the words slip out of my mouth, and it shocks me so much a giggle escapes my throat.
“We weren’t doing tit for tat the other night. You don’t owe me anything.” His words are soft, but the pulse point at the base of his throat is thrumming violently.
“Okay,” I agree, reaching for my bedroom doorknob.
“You have to work in the morning. I want to sleep in your bed. I’m not just here because I want to fuck you.”
“But you do want to fuck me?” I clarify.
His hand reaches down, and he grips his erection over his jeans. My God, I haven’t even touched him, and he’s at full mast. The flex of his forearm is better than any porn clip I’ve ever watched.
“I do.”
“Wha—?” I ask, lost and distracted, unsure of the topic of conversation at present. I can’t pull my eyes from the front of his jeans, and there’s nothing childish about the way he grips himself. He’s all desire and need and manly.
“I do want to fuck you.”
“I want that too,” I agree, my head bobbing up and down like I’m an awestruck idiot.
“My eyes are up here,” he advises his hand disappearing from his crotch.
“Yeah,” I agree, but don’t bother looking up. “Take your pants off.”
We’ve made it into my room, and since Charli is at the hospital, I don’t have to worry about getting caught.
“You sure?” I nod, still entranced. “You have to work in the morning.”
His words should snap me out of it, but they don’t. In the back of my mind, I know how important it is to get as much rest as possible since people’s lives depend on my reflexes, but I also know I’m a good doctor and could easily get by on four hours of sleep.
“I’ll be fine,” I promise, and nearly faint when his fingers open the button and then slowly lower the zipper on his jeans. “My, God.”
“Not so little boyish, huh?”
All I can do is shake my head back and forth and stare. Staring seems to be all I’m capable of as he slides a tight fist down his massive cock. Even in my head, I can’t call what he’s stroking a penis. It seems too medical, too tame for what is in front of me right now. I almost open my mouth to tell him it won’t fit, but I’m well aware of the elasticity of a vagina. Even if I don’t think it will, I’m going to have one hell of a good time trying to find out.
“You don’t have to do that.”
I don’t realize I’ve hit my knees in front of him until his finger is crooked under my chin and he’s forcing me to look up at him.
“I wasn’t expecting any of this when I came to your door a few minutes ago.”
“You just said you wanted to fuck me.”
“I always want to fuck you, but that doesn’t mean it has to happen—oh fuck!”
Seems lips around the head of his cock is all it takes to shut him up. His thighs tremble against my hands when I lean in closer to attempt to take more of him in my mouth. I’m loving every second of this, the sounds he makes, the way his thighs bunch and release under my palms, the sweet thumb he presses under my chin so I’ll look up at him while he’s buried in my mouth.
But when his hand fists my hair, I grow cautious, pulling my head back to speak.
“I want you to feel good, but if you start fucking my throat, there’s a good chance you’ll perforate my esophagus. Then you’ll have to drive me all the way to Albuquerque because I will not go to my hospital for something like that. I’ll die if people—”
“Cam.” Samson runs his thumb over my bottom lip as his teeth dig into his own. “I’m not going to fuck your throat. I was fixing to pull you off, so I don’t come in your mouth.”
“Why would you do that? I swallow.”
His eyes roll back when I slide my mouth down his length again, and he wasn’t lying. He was so close; it only takes three or four more slides down his erection before he thickens in my mouth and blows.
I lick and suck and tease him until he jerks his hips back and pulls free, unable to take my mouth teasing him post-orgasm.
“Sorry,” I tell him.
“No, you’re not.” He scoops me up and tosses me on the bed. “My turn.”
I don’t even pretend to be anxious. The oral he gave me the other night was out of this world, but I had been drinking, and since alcohol kind of numbs things, I’m certain today is going to be even better. My body is trembling with anticipation.
“You wear these to work?” Samson asks, looking down at the pale pink lace panties covering my core.
“Kind of?” I answer, continuing after he stares down at me. “I took a shower before I left the hospital. The ones I wore to work were red lace. I felt sexy when I woke up this morning, and I wanted to keep feeling that way all day.”
I refuse to tell him about the dream I had last night that made me wake up with flushed cheeks and a need for what is fixing to happen, or what I hope is going to happen.
“You’re beyond sexy,” he praises, using the same thumb he ran over my bottom lip moments ago to trace down my seam. “And wet.”
I squirm, both needing more and wanting him to stop. I’ve never been put on display like this. I don’t count the other night because I had help making that decision. Right now, I’m one hundred percent lucid and in control, and that’s almost too much power.
“Samson,” I whine when he seems content just to watch his finger toying with the lace of my panties.
“What do you need?” His words are almost a purr, and it’s easy to imagine the vibration elsewhere.
“Your mouth,” I answer bravely.
“Good choice.”
His lips are parted as he pulls my panties to the side, and even though he’s still inches away, when his tongue swipes to wet his lower lip, I feel it on my skin. I may come before he even gets his mouth on me.
Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait any longer, and the first brush of his lips on my delicate flesh makes me writhe under his hands. He must understand how difficult it is to stay laying still because he wraps his arm under my leg and uses his strength to press against my lower belly to hold me in place.
When his tongue takes its first swipe, I nearly lose my mind. He chuckles at my response, and the warmth of his breath is somehow cooler than my flesh. The stark contrast is amazing. Better than I’ve ever had, including the other night.
“Don’t tease me,” I beg when he presses soft kisses to the insides of my thighs rather than focusing his attention where I need it the most. “I ache for you.”
“Here?” Stiffening his tongue, he traces every inch of my center.
“Yes,” I moan. “Everywhere.”
“Hold on.” His words are a warning, and when he dives in, I realize I wasn’t taking it as seriously as I should have.
My
body seizes, legs locked, fingers tangled in his hair as he works me over. I’m ashamed of how fast he makes me come, but the bliss is so powerful that my apology dies in my throat as my muscles convulse.
“That’s it,” he praises, all the while licking and sucking at my core. “Keep going.”
And I do. My pussy pulses against his mouth for what feels like hours, until I’m boneless, knowing I’ll feel like I ran a marathon when I wake up in the morning.
When I land back on Earth, I find him with his chin resting just above my pubic bone with a satisfied smile on his lips.
“Don’t look so smug.”
“I think making you come is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t wait to fuck you, so I can be inches from your face when it happens. I’m hard from your taste on my lips.”
He presses a kiss to my lower belly before inching a little higher.
“From feeling your pussy quiver against my mouth.”
He pushes my top up, pulling down the cups of my bra before wrapping his lips around my nipple. The sensation shoots right back down past my navel.
“I’ve dreamed about this day.”
His mouth releases my nipple only to seek out the other one.
“Fantasized about the sounds you’ll make when I first enter you.”
With that declaration, he moves his hips back and presses forward. I’m so full of him I don’t even make a sound. It’s like my brain goes off-line until he shifts his hips back. When he stabs back into me, it’s somehow the catalyst to bring me right back to him.
“Je-sus,” I moan, my fingernails digging into his shoulders at the way he stretches me.
Chapter 23
Samson
The clamp of Camryn Davison’s pussy on my cock has got to be the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. She’s hotter than a volcano and tighter than I ever imagined. So silky smooth, I know I’ll never want to do anything but spend my life inside of her.
“St-stop.”
The word is foreign, and honestly has no place in this moment, but I still listen.
“What’s wrong?”
When I shift my weight to my elbows, my eyes roll as it sinks me inside of her just a little deeper.
