“You just made me extremely happy, Riley. Come with me.” He took my hand and led me toward the limo. I took a few faltering steps, obviously unaccustomed to walking blindly, but he was very good at making me feel safe. He directed me into the limo, got me situated, and then told the driver I had yet to see that we could depart.
“Where are we going?” I whispered.
“Don’t worry, it’s a surprise.”
I jumped when his hand landed on my knee. My hand came to my throat and I tried to let my heart return to its normal beat.
“You don’t have to worry, baby. I’ve got you.” As he said the words, his hand crept up my thigh and his fingers slid under the hem of my skirt, and my breath caught. His hand moved farther up but then stilled and grasped my thigh tightly. “Are you wearing a fucking garter belt, Riley?”
Before I could even answer, he pushed my skirt all the way up to my waist, exposing me to, well, I didn’t know what because I couldn’t see anything.
“Cam, are we alone?” All I could think of were all the movies I’d seen with people in limos and there was always a screen that could go up or down. I swallowed thickly and prayed it was up.
He didn’t answer me, but instead replaced his hands with his mouth and began kissing my legs, his lips moving over the lace tops of my thigh-highs and even farther up.
“Always in fucking lace,” he said before pressing a kiss right against my panty-covered opening. I gasped at the sensation. The way his lips felt against my sex, the way the limo bounced along the road, the sound of the tires moving over the pavement, and the way his hair felt between my fingers as I threaded them through, it was all sensory overload.
The limo continued to drive us to our destination as he continued to drive me wild. He seemed to be on a mission to tease me. He touched me everywhere, except where I wanted him most. His mouth and fingers danced around my core, but never actually touched me there, always grazing me. I rolled my hips and arched my back, trying everything I could to convince him to touch me, to give me some sort of release, but he wouldn’t be swayed. I couldn’t see him, but I would have bet money I could feel him smiling against my mound as he teased me.
I felt the limo stop and the ignition cut, and Camden was pulling my skirt back down my body.
“I have plans for you, but they don’t involve sex in the back of a limo.”
“Really? Could have fooled me,” I grumbled, adjusting my skirt. I heard the door open and felt the rush of cold air float into the limo, then Camden was taking my hand and leading me out.
“Where are we?” I asked, listening for any clue I could find.
“You’ll see,” he said, right before pressing a kiss to my temple. I heard a door open and then the press of his hand on the small of my back, urging me through. The wall of warm air soothed me, but my heart was pumping, thinking about the unknown. We could have been anywhere. It was a rather short ride, and in Portland you could get almost anywhere in twenty minutes.
Whatever building he’d brought me into, it was quiet. The only thing I could hear was the buzz of electricity. His hand still held mine and he led me along, telling me when I would feel the floor change from tile to carpet and when I had to turn. Finally, we stopped, and I listened again, trying to figure anything out. When I heard the unmistakable sound of coins my ears perked up. Camden then took my hand and made me hold it out, open, and palm up. A bag was placed in it, and I heard the coins again. The bag wasn’t terribly heavy, but its weight caught me off guard so I quickly brought my other hand up to help support it. The coins were in a plastic bag and they moved between my fingers in a familiar way.
“Why is there a bag of coins in my hands?”
“Think about it, baby. There’s only one place you could be where you’d need a bunch of coins.”
I put an overly excited smile on my face and said, “Are we at a laundromat?”
“Ha ha, smart-ass. Try again.”
“I don’t know, Camden, I’m standing here blindfolded, still stupidly turned on from your fun in the limo, and I have no idea where I am. Put me out of my misery. I’ve played your game long enough.”
“Funny you should mention games,” he said as he reached up and pulled the blindfold off my eyes. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light, but mainly because there were different colors of light everywhere. Bright, flashing lights.
“You brought me to an arcade?”
“Happy anniversary,” he said sweetly.
“Anniversary?” I couldn’t keep the confusion from my voice. I dropped my hands and brought the bag of nickels to my side.
“Mmm hmm.” He stepped up closer to me, his hands winding around my waist and clasping behind my back. “Two months ago tonight I sat next to a sexy stranger at a basketball game and the Jumbotron made me kiss her.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine, angled perfectly over my lips, his tongue barely tasting me. He pulled back and that gave me a moment to take in my surroundings with all the new information. My eyes landed right over his shoulder and I smiled.
He must have noticed my smile and stepped away, revealing the row of Skee-Ball machines. Suddenly I realized there weren’t any other people in the arcade.
“Is this place closed? Did you break in to a nickel arcade?”
“No. I rented the entire place for the night. We have the whole place to ourselves.”
I looked around as if I needed further confirmation. “You rented a nickel arcade for our two-month kissing anniversary so we could play Skee-Ball alone?”
“Well, yes. But,” he said, raising a finger, “I also had the place stocked. There’s Chinese takeout and Hef waiting for you when you get hungry.”
“Are you for real?” I blurted.
“What?”
“I mean, is this for real? Are you serious?”
“Well, yeah,” he said slowly, sounding confused and looking worried. “Do you not like it? I thought it would be something fun and different—″
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because I jumped him. I launched myself at him and kissed him stupid.
“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I whispered against his lips after showing him how much I appreciated it with my mouth.
“Well, before you get all mushy, I should share that I have some ulterior motives.”
“Oh, really?” I carefully unfolded my legs from around his waist, but left my arms draped over his shoulders, not wanting him to get too far away.
“I’d like to make our evening interesting.” His fingers slipped right below the waistband of my skirt over my ass, dipping in a little. The feeling of his fingers against my skin only ignited a fire that had been stoking ever since he put that damn blindfold on me.
“A wager?” I giggled. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been that happy. “I don’t want to take away from your endgame here, but I’m kind of a sure thing.” His hands pulled at my ass, dragging me as close to him as I could get while still clothed.
“We’ll each take a shot, and whoever gets the lower score on each ball has to lose a piece of clothing.”
“You want to play strip Skee-Ball?”
“I’m up for it if you are.”
I looked around, part of me wanting to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. Was some pimple-faced high schooler hanging out in the breakroom? Surely they wouldn’t just hand the business over to Cam and leave him alone here. “How sure are you that we’re alone?”
“I am 100 percent sure we are the only people in this building.”
My eyes roamed, as I tried to concentrate but was distracted by his hands again.
“What about surveillance video? There have to be cameras in here somewhere.”
“Part of the rental contract explicitly stated the cameras were to be offline during my time here. I watched the owner shut the cameras down. We’re all alone. No one can see us.”
The funny thing was, part of me wanted there to be ca
meras. I didn’t necessarily want someone watching us, and I didn’t want some sophomore in the backroom jerking off while I had sex with my boyfriend, but the idea that there might be a camera on us, that we might be filmed, surprisingly turned me on.
“I play better when I’m drunk, so I’ll need those beers.”
He smiled broadly then smacked a playful kiss on my lips.
“Follow me.”
The next hour was spent laughing more than I had in a long time. We ate and drank, but then made our way around the arcade, playing all kinds of games. Camden was competitive, which didn’t surprise me, but it did surprise me that when I was better at a game than him, he didn’t sulk and complain; he wanted to play it again until he got better. As long as he was progressing and getting better, he had a blast. One game he couldn’t outscore me on was pinball. He made up some excuse about women being better multitaskers, therefore making it easier for me to manage all the different levers and multiple balls.
I barked out a laugh when he managed to say “multiple balls” with a straight face.
“So,” he said, leaning up against the Whack-a-Mole game I was currently annihilating. “Ready for a round of Skee-Ball?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do I get any sort of handicap? You pretty much wiped the floor with me last time.” Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his shiny shoes off and pulled his tie free from around his neck.
“There. That’s two. Think that’ll be enough?”
I laughed. “Probably not. You’ll most likely still beat me.”
“One can only hope.”
I walked past him, taking the tie from his hand and slipping it over my head. “Let’s do this, Rogers.”
“Okay, rules are, we both get one ball to make the best score. Whoever gets the highest score of that round, gets to pick the piece of clothing the other person loses.” Camden tossed a wooden ball up and caught it without looking. “We play until one person loses all their clothes.”
“All?”
“All.”
“All right.” I can’t believe I’m going to do this. On the way to the Skee-Ball games, I grabbed my coat and scarf from our table.
“Ladies first,” he said, making a sweeping motion toward the game where our balls had already been racked.
“How gentlemanly.” I grabbed a wooden ball, rolling it around in my hand, lined up my shot and took it, a little surprised he hadn’t tried to distract me. I scored a decent fifty points, but I knew what this game was about, and it wasn’t sinking the balls in the holes with the highest points. I knew he’d beat me, and he knew it too. This was about him pushing my boundaries and giving me another experience. At some point I had accepted it, and knew what was coming. Sure enough, Camden sunk his perfect ball right into the hundred-point hole.
“Coat.” His single word was a demand, and fuck me if his steely tone and bedroom eyes didn’t make everything below my waist warm up.
The next five balls played exactly the same way. I tried for the hundred-point hole but never could make it. He made it every time.
“Scarf.”
“Shirt.”
“Heels.”
“Blouse.”
“Skirt.”
I stood in the middle of a nickel arcade wearing only a bra, panties, thigh-highs, a garter belt, and his tie. This seemed like every brace-toothed nerd’s dream.
“Was this, like, one of your teenage fantasies? Did you have wet dreams about beating pretty girls at Skee-Ball and making them take all their clothes off for you?”
“I’ve had plenty of fantasies throughout the years, Riley. But none of them compare to you.”
“I want to change the game,” I said suddenly, taken off guard by his words.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, this is too easy for you.”
“What are the new rules?”
“New rules, we play until one of us is naked, but the difference is, if you don’t make a ball in the hundred-point hole you have to take something off. Sink the ball, and I’ll take something off.”
“So all the pressure is on me?”
“Yep,” I said, popping the p.
“Deal.” He reached for his next ball and I perched myself at the end of my Skee-Ball lane. I crossed my legs slowly and then leaned back until my elbows hit the wood. He paused, hand inside the alley where the balls dispense, eyes glued to me and my body. I watched as he weighed his options. At that point, he knew what my intention was. To distract him. I figured he was weighing which he wanted more: to beat me or fuck me.
He picked up a ball and took his stance. I brought my finger to my mouth, letting my tongue dart out and lick it, then slowly ran the wet tip down my chin and neck, over my breast, and down my torso.
He watched me the entire time, but right before my finger made it to the edge of my panties, he took three steps forward and launched his ball.
“Fifty points,” I said, trying not to smile too hard. “Lose the shirt.” Luckily for me, since he’d been so sure he would win, he hadn’t bothered to layer up like I had, and had left his suit jacket at our table. He took his time unbuttoning his shirt, watching me with rapt attention as he did. “Take your next shot, Camden,” I said once his shirt was on the ground next to most of my clothes.
He grabbed a ball and prepared to fire. I uncrossed my legs and spread my knees, running my hand down my center. I did it for his benefit, to throw him off, but I couldn’t deny I was aroused, wet even. “I’m waiting,” I teased.
“Fuck,” he swore, his hand coming up to run through his hair. I watched him steel himself, line up his shot, and launch the ball. I smiled when he got a gutter ball.
“I’ll take the pants, Rogers.”
His gaze was pinned on me as he pulled open his belt, and I found my fingers pressing harder against my sex, adding more friction. I gasped, surprised at how turned on I was. This wasn’t my wheelhouse. I didn’t like adventure outside the bedroom, but apparently, I was wrong. He pulled off his pants and stood there, still a good eight feet away, panting and nailing me with his gaze. His boxer briefs were stretched with his erection and the sight only made me hotter. I slipped my fingers underneath the lace of my underwear, gasping as my two middle fingers slid between my lips.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, unable to play the game anymore. At first I was trying to bait him, to make him lose the game he so clearly thought he was going to win, but now I was too turned on to continue. I felt his hands on my thighs before I realized he was in front of me, but even though I knew he was there, I continued to work my hand through my sex.
“What do you want?” he rasped, his eyes darting all over me. From my hand and its work between my legs to my breasts, to my face, he was feasting on all of me.
“I want you to touch me.”
He pulled his undershirt over his head, knelt, and placed his hands under my knees, pulling me to the edge of the lane. He slid his hands up my stocking-covered legs, only stopping when his fingers reached the elastic of my underwear. He tugged at the same time I lifted my hips, and in an instant, my sex was bare for him. I reached for my garter belt, but his hand landed on mine.
“Leave it on.” Before I could agree, his mouth descended on me. His tongue claimed me, licking me up and down, hungry for every part of me. His hands were wrapped around my thighs, holding me open, giving him unfettered access. He kissed me, sucked me, and licked me, constantly moving, always teasing. When his lips latched on to my clit, sucking with surprising pressure, my body’s instinct was to pull away—it was too much. But he held me down and didn’t let up. I cried out, then opened my eyes and looked down at him, nearly coming at the sight of his mouth—the mouth I knew so well—latched on to the most intimate part of me. He caught my gaze and let up a little, running his chin back and forth through my folds, making me cry out even louder.
“I can’t…,” I whimpered, afraid I would combust.
“You will.” His hand left my body. One hand pulled on the cup of
my bra and he roughly palmed my breast. The other hand moved south and two fingers sank into me. That was all it took to send me flying, spiraling through the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. He didn’t let up though; he pumped his fingers in and out of me, sucked my clit, and squeezed my breast until I had come down from my high. Even then he didn’t let up.
He pulled away, wiping his face on the back of his hand, then grabbed me by my armpits, hauling me up to stand. My legs were weak, my head still spinning in a different orbit, but I watched as he pulled down his boxer briefs, his impressive length springing out of the waistband like it had been held captive. I reached for him, wanting to feel his hard shaft in my hand, but he grabbed my hand before I could make contact.
No words were spoken between us as he walked backward toward the lane. He sat down, then lay back, pulling me over him. I didn’t ask questions; there was no need. I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it too. I climbed over him and, wasting no time, situated him beneath me and then sank down, feeling him enter me, slowly and fully.
“Jesus… fuck…,” he spat, his hands roaming everywhere he could reach. I’d never felt that full before. Something about the wooden lane we were on, the fact that there was no give, it made him push against me harder, made everything feel better. Even the slightest rock of my hips was like an electric shock to my clit, which was already overly sensitive, thanks to his mouth. “You’ve got to move, Riley,” he said, sounding almost as if he were in pain.
I did as he asked, pushing up and letting his cock slide out of me, then sinking back down, loving the way he stretched and filled me again, gasping at how sublime it felt. It became obvious I wasn’t moving fast enough for him when he grabbed my hips and quickened my pace for me, using his ridiculously strong arms to manipulate my body for his pleasure. I wanted that. I wanted him to find his fucking nirvana in my body, use it to reach that high, over and over again. I wanted him so addicted to me that he never wanted anyone else, never thought of anyone but me.
Kiss Cam (With A Kiss Book 1) Page 18
