by PE Kavanagh
Chapter 8
Seven years earlier
“You better focus, twinkle toes. The Senator is not going to enjoy your stepping on his very important feet.”
Camille slumped in Jackson’s arms. “Ughhh. Is anyone really going to care?”
“Yes, fry. People care about things like this.”
Camille’s relationship with a Senator’s son, whom she had met in a philosophy class senior year, had progressed enough that she had been invited to a state function. It was black tie, there would be dignitaries from around the world, and she would be expected to dance. Too embarrassed to tell her date that she didn’t know how to waltz or foxtrot, she was forced to beg Jackson for dance lessons. Of course, he obliged. Without even one disparaging comment about being a twenty-one year old woman with enormous gaps in her social education.
Her date was almost certainly not going to be as good or exacting a dancer as the man leading her around the room, but it didn’t matter. Spending the afternoon in Jackson’s arms was not a chore.
“You’re doing great, fry. Now, try to pretend you’re having fun, okay? Relax your body, smile.”
“Right.” Another thing to remember.
He whisked her around for a dramatic spin, catching her as she nearly fell into one of his sculptures. Camille held on tight while overcome with giggles.
He righted both their bodies and led her across his living room, in perfect time to the music. “Listen, Cam, there’s one more thing. Have you ever had a man tell you he loves you?”
“Jackson!” That one nearly did knock her off her feet.
He tightened his grip around her waist. “This might be your night, fry. I mean you two have been together for a while and it’s going to be a romantic evening. You might want to be prepared.”
The last man to say those three words to her had been her father, so many years before. “And how does one prepare for such a thing?”
Jackson stopped moving, looked deeply into her eyes, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. “I love you, Camille.”
He had been right, as usual, because nothing in her two decades of life had adequately prepared her to hear those words from that man. Unable to feign composure, or fabricate a response, Camille could only tell the truth.
“I love you too, Jackson.”
Now
“What are we doing next, Jackson?” Camille had tried to be as patient as possible, letting him keep the specifics of their dates a secret, but she hated it. The whole thing was creating more than enough tension and anticipation. She was ready for their next step.
He smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. “Pack a bag. We’re going away for the weekend.”
As soon as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, she knew they were headed to Sonoma County. The quieter and more exclusive of the local wine regions was one of their favorite places on the planet. The car pulled into the famed resort Auberge du Soleil and he walked her into one of the two private chalets on the property. Camille’s only issue was that they’d only have one night. This setting was her version of paradise.
After putting her few items away, she stood by the enormous windows, looking out at the rolling hillsides covered in the parallel lines of grapevines.
He slipped himself behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Come on, fry. Stop daydreaming. We’ve got wine to taste.”
“First of all, you can’t call me fry anymore. We’re not those people. Second of all, I’m ready when you are.”
He stepped in front of her and cupped the side of her jaw. “You’ll always be my French fry. Even when we’re old and gray and babysitting our grandkids.”
Several quick blinks brought her back after his statement stopped her heart. She reached up to kiss him, lingering long enough to transform her nerves to sweet comfort. After ten years of building a relationship, Camille couldn’t have predicted how far they would progress in just two weeks. Her mind and heart had caught up with her body. Resistance and worry had become unshakable love. She was ready.
“Okay, Jack. Let’s go. All that Pinot isn’t going to drink itself.”
* * *
Spending the day visiting their favorite wineries and strolling the small town could not have been better. The sumptuous meal in the area’s most romantic restaurant was the perfect complement. It lived up to every single expectation she had about being with Jackson. All those fantasies, over all those years, looked like the day they’d just had. It wasn’t news that he knew how to treat a woman. But he especially knew how to treat her.
There was only one thing missing.
They arrived back at their hotel, tired after a perfectly full day. She wanted to wait for Jackson to undress, but he was taking too long. He moved around the room, as if he was looking for something. She watched and fidgeted.
“Everything alright, Cam?”
“Yes. Fine. I’m… um… going to the bathroom. You get ready for bed. I’ll be right out.”
When she exited the bathroom, she was hoping that he would notice, but his eyes were closed. As she waited for him, the plan began to sound more and more ludicrous. Maybe this was a huge mistake. Maybe he was right about them not consummating their relationship just yet. Maybe she was making a huge fool of herself.
Just as the idea to duck back into the bathroom and change crossed her mind, his eyes fluttered open.
He blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He sat up in bed, face frozen.
Her sheer negligee, in the lightest pink, hadn’t been a bad idea, after all. She walked slowly toward him, watching his eyes scan her breasts, the curve of her stomach, the line of her legs, and the small line of hair on her mound. She was clothed, but nothing was actually concealed from view.
“Cam… for me?” She picked up how hard it was for him to form a thought, much less an intelligible sentence.
She knelt astride him and took his face in her hands. “Yes. All for you.”
He kissed her so softly, she wondered if he thought she would break. When she offered him her tongue, the energy of his body shifted from shock to hunger. Any tentativeness disappeared.
“You really did this for me?”
“Who else would I do this for? I’m yours. Completely.” She knew he was waiting for her to say that, to feel that. There was no question in her mind that becoming her best friend’s lover was the right decision.
He slid his hands up the sides of her waist and under her breasts, which were already aching for him. The pull from his mouth and the twist of his fingers created a jolt through her body. She ground herself into him while he nuzzled her breasts. His hands wrapped around to grip her bottom and she rocked forward to press herself farther into him.
“This is so beautiful,” he said, fingering the delicate fabric, “but I don’t want anything between us.”
He pulled the camisole over her head and in a single motion, shifted both of their bodies and put her on her back.
Staying upright, he drew his fingers from her lips down her chin, throat, over her breasts, belly, down the outside of her hip and thigh, and finally back up between her legs. The sensation of just his fingertips hovering over her needy flesh was excruciating. She tilted and arched for him, trying to get more. He slowed down even further.
“You’re torturing me.”
“Hmmmm…” He dipped his head down and buried it just below her navel, while his fingers slipped between her wet folds and stroked from top to bottom. As he pressed a finger inside her, the tip of his tongue slid along her slit. Her legs fell open and she grabbed handfuls of his hair. He continued to move his finger slowly, and used only the tip of his tongue to discover her.
Camille willed herself to relax.
“Better, love. Better.” He rewarded her by increasing the thrust of his finger, and pressing his lips onto her clit. “You taste like heaven.”
He sucked in and she yelped. He licked her with the full width of his tongue and she groaned. He focused the tip of his tongue on her c
lit and her thighs began to quiver.
She pulled at his hair, losing control, as he never let up on the pressure. When he moaned into her, vibrating the entire lower half of her body, she tumbled into an orgasm that radiated from his mouth in every direction. He did not move until she had been still for several breaths, and then brought himself back up her body with an uninterrupted line of kisses. When he hovered above her, Camille’s attention was split between his erection pressing against her, and the look on his face.
“You’re going to do that a lot for me. When I can watch as well.”
She tasted herself when he brought his mouth to hers. “Yes, thank you. Ready when you are.”
“Oh really? Does now work for you?” The head of his cock pressed against her opening.
Camille clutched his face to steady herself. She was grateful they’d already had the contraception talk as it took all her energy not to drown in the surreal moment.
She straddled the line between pleasure and pain as he filled her, inch by inch.
“Don’t tighten, Cam. Relax, love.”
His voice calmed her and she unclenched around him. He brought his head down and she buried herself into his shoulder as he plunged into her. Within a few seconds, they had created a rhythmic dance of pleasure. With a slip of his palm underneath her and a lengthening of his stroke, the tension rose again, crashing into her with another orgasm.
He continued pushing into her, his face strained with emotion and pleasure. She bit into his shoulder and dug her nails into his ass. His breath became panting became groaning became a gravel-filled exclamation. Filled as much as she had ever been by anyone before him, she received each of the pulses into her body.
The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the look of perfect contentment on his face, and the feeling of utter satisfaction in her body.
* * *
With her eyes still closed, she reached her arm across the bed. Nothing but sheets. A flutter of her eyes brought the bright white empty bed into view. The sound of running water made it clear where Jackson had disappeared to.
Camille stepped into the large shower behind him and pressed her body against his. He spun around to catch her mouth. That quickly, she yearned for the feeling of him inside her again. She broke free of the kiss and turned herself toward the old-fashioned tile wall. All it took was stepping her legs slightly apart for him to find her. His slick body slid against her as his cock plunged inside. Her gasp echoed against the tiles, and then mingled with his own. His palm pressed hers into the wall while his other hand guided her hips back toward him. Any gentleness or tentativeness from the previous night was gone in this fast and furious reclamation.
“Now, Camille. Now.”
She responded to his command without hesitation and an orgasm burst through the center of her body. The pulses had not yet stilled when his began, bringing her up and over again.
Camille had always loved the drive from the wine country just north of San Francisco, through Golden Gate Park, and onto the curving roads of picturesque neighborhoods. It contained elements of everything she loved about this part of the world: fields, mountains, curving roads, and the beautiful ocean.
As she was enjoying the sights, Jackson’s hand slipped under her skirt, up the inside of her thigh and gently cupped her. “How are you feeling down there?”
“Tender. Sensitive. I can still feel your mouth, your fingers, your cock.”
He exhaled audibly. “I was worried that this morning might have been a bit too rough.”
“It was great. I loved it.”
He squeezed her, which drew a soft groan from her open mouth.
“Damn, fry. I hope you’re not too sore.”
She considered the question. “Just enough to keep the memories vivid.”
He turned to look at her with hunger in his eyes. “I knew you weren’t going to be a shrinking violet in bed, but I had no idea…”
The movement of his fingers raised her temperature with each passing second. “What do you mean?”
“When you stepped out of the bathroom, wearing - I don’t even know what it’s called - that was one of the pinnacle moments of my life.”
Camille tipped her head back onto the headrest and allowed a broad smile to fill her face. “Why?”
“Well, first of all, your body is perfection.”
The corners of her lips dropped as she imagined the multitude of perfect female bodies he had seen. She had seen some of them too when they were living together. “I’ve only ever seen you with supermodels. Or women who look like supermodels. I don’t look anything like that, Jackson.”
“Camille, they are like celery sticks, and you are the juiciest, most perfectly tender steak.”
That metaphor made her uneasy. “Any other reason?”
“You radiated power and desire. All the conflict, uncertainty, and worry were gone. The fact that you had been able to do that, in just one week, and that you could come to me with an offer that was so clear and bold, was the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“I think you can take credit for at least some of that. Your idea to sleep together naked, crazy as it was, did the trick for me.”
“I’m not taking any credit. It was all you. Even your willingness to go along with it demonstrated how remarkable and fearless you are.”
“I -”
“I want to go back to your body. You brushed my comment aside.”
“Your metaphor made me uncomfortable. It felt cannibalistic.”
A throaty laugh came out of him. “You know I don’t like games - emotional, verbal, none of it. I don’t want you to feel you have to be falsely modest with me. You and I both know that you are a stunningly beautiful woman. Your body is what most guys dream about and few will ever see in person.”
She steadied herself. “I appreciate the compliment. I’m just saying that, objectively, I am very different than the women I’m used to seeing you with.”
“It’s not a coincidence.”
She let the weight of that statement drop onto her. Had he been purposely picking women who weren’t her?
“Fragility is not a turn-on for me. With you, I feel like I can take it as far as I want, without fear of breaking you. And you are emotionally strong enough to define the terms and hold boundaries. Although I hope there aren’t that many.”
She studied the strong line of his jaw, the outline of his full lips. She wanted everything this man wanted to give her. “Unleash whatever is in there, Jackson. I love the power you hold beneath the surface.”
He gripped the steering wheel, whitening his knuckles. “I’m having trouble driving. I want to look in your eyes, and my dick is straining against my pants.”
“Pull over.”
Without any more discussion, Jackson turned into the large parking lot of a bank, which, because it was Sunday, was nearly empty.
“Push your seat all the way back.” Ordering him like this was intoxicating.
She brought herself on top of him, knees straddling his thighs. He slipped his thumb inside the seam of her thong. “You are so fucking wet, Cam.”
“For you.”
When he slipped his finger inside her, she couldn’t help clenching around him.
“I want to feel you do that to my dick.”
She lifted off of him enough to maneuver his erection through the opening of his underwear and the zipper of his jeans. While he continued to stroke and dip into her with his finger, she took his rock hard cock into her hand, barely able to close around it. So much she still wanted to explore with him, but for that moment, she needed him inside her.
He pulled at the delicate lace of her underwear. “I’m going to rip these off.”
“Yes.”
The band tightened against her and then snapped. He buried his face in her breasts as she lowered herself down onto him. Every sensation was heightened on her tender parts.
“Take what you need, Camille. It’s all for you.”
She slowed down only enough to regain her focus. By his expression and his breath, she knew he was close. He grabbed big handfuls of her ass, and pressed himself as deeply inside her as he would go. Keeping her hips pinned, he rocked back and forth, rubbing her against him, and pulling her under again. She squeezed her thighs against him, unprepared for another orgasm. A surge of heat deep inside her and a shattering pulse accompanied the groans that vibrated his whole body.
She dropped herself onto him, as they breathed together. His hands held her body firmly against him.
When she pulled away, his eyes were closed.
“I love you, Jackson.”
He raised his eyelids slowly. “I love you, Camille.” He moved the hair behind her ear. “I need you to tell me that during a non-intimate moment, okay?”
Was he uncertain of her feelings? “Of course.”
He looked down to where they remained connected. “I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with this mess, Cam.”
She had already started feeling his cum sliding out of her. “I have underwear in my bag, but I think your pants are a lost cause. Do you have an extra pair?”
“I can wear the same pants from yesterday, I guess.”
“Your ass looks amazing in those, so it’s fine with me.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I feel so objectified.”
“Get used to it.”
* * *
Traffic through the city delayed them even further. Camille knew Jackson was worried about showing up to his parent’s house late. His father did not tolerate deviance from the rules.
