I slide my hands beneath the hem of her shirt and her stomach clenches then prickles with goose bumps. She tugs and pulls at my shirt and skims her fingertips beneath the waistband of my jeans and I almost come unglued.
It’s been ages since I’ve been with a woman. Ages. So long ago, I can barely remember what it felt like but right now, that’s a good thing. She’s all-consuming and there’s a fire blazing between us that’s scorching my skin. I’m glad I can’t remember anyone before her because I don’t want to think of anyone after her.
Everything feels right.
Her breasts pressed to my chest.
Her legs that are now straddling me, her hot center pressed firmly against my growing hardness.
The sounds she makes when I trail my fingers up her back under her shirt, pushing the material up high enough that if my eyes were open, I’d get a glimpse of her stomach. I pull her in closer, removing the last of the space between us. My hand curves around the base of her neck, fingers tangling through her hair I’ve been dying to get my hands on.
Her fingers flex against my stomach, squeezing lightly. Her nails are short, painted a blue so dark they almost look black. I noticed them, just as she noticed my hands. Apparently we’ve both been paying close attention, cataloguing each other’s features.
Our mouths stay connected, my other hand slides down her back until it finds her ass, gripping it tightly and moving her over me in a way that she can feel exactly what she’s doing to me.
Nibbling at her lip, I bite a little rougher than I meant to. She gasps but kisses me harder. “You like that?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs just before slamming her lips against mine again. She’s hungry, anxious, ready for everything I want to give her.
For the next several minutes, hours, days, I don’t know how long, we do exactly as she asked when she re-introduced herself to me. We make out like a pair of teenagers, greedy hands and a passion that seems to only grow with each swipe of the tongue. Only difference is we both know what we’re doing. Her fingers graze against my bare skin, up my stomach. Her thumb slides across my nipple and I groan.
Her touch is unassuming but the effect she has on me is anything but.
If we don’t slow down, though, we’re going to take things to the end and we haven’t had the actual discussion yet. She may have said she was going to suggest we have a friends with benefits type of thing, but I need to know that she’s ready for what we are about to pursue.
Rules.
They need to be laid out, right?
Before I lay her out.
Wow, I’m glad I said that only in my head because that was cheesy as hell.
Slowly, I raise my head and lean back. Her eyes are still closed and lips puckered as if she’s not ready to stop kissing me either.
“Cami.” Her name comes out thick, my tongue and lips feeling swollen from the best makeout session I’ve ever been a part of.
“Owen.” My name comes out husky, and I can only hope she just participated in the best makeout session she’s ever been a part of, too.
“Believe me when I say I don’t want to, but we need to slow down. Figure it out first.”
She removes her hand from under my shirt and places them on my chest, smoothing the material of my shirt. “Owen, I thought we already established I’m good with our arrangement.”
“That may be, but don’t you think we should slow down a little? Maybe talk through… expectations?”
“As long as you live up to my expectations and I can give my vibrator a rest while I’m here, I’m on board with anything.” To drive her point home, or to torture me, she gyrates her hips, grinding down on me.
I moan, throw my head back against the couch again, and close my eyes, swallowing hard. My brain is stuck on the word vibrator and the way her body feels on top of me. Perfect. “That’s not helping, sweetheart.”
“Oh, it isn’t?” She does it again, and my head jerks up just in time to see the little minx grin mischievously. I grip her hips to stop her movement, trying my best to give her a stern look.
She giggles, raising her hands in surrender and climbing off my lap. I’m quick, though, and don’t want her too far. I drape her legs over my thighs and rest my hands on her shins. We stare at each other for a few seconds, getting control of our bodies.
“I don’t want you to think that I came down here intending to ask you for sex without the promise of anything more.”
“I know.”
“That’s not how I think of you.”
“I know.”
“You’re worth more than that. If I wasn’t The Escape and you weren’t Tennessee, things would be different. I’d take you out and get to know you before I mauled you.”
This time humor is included in her, “I know.”
“And this would be more than just a friendly thing.”
Her blue eyes flare before softening, head turning to the side. She says firmly, “I know.”
I blow out a breath, relieved that she gets it.
“You’re really okay with this?”
“What is this, exactly?”
I know she’s just being playful. Wanting to hear me say the words out loud.
“You’re a turd, you know that?”
“You just called me a turd.” I chuckle, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Fine. You want me to ask? Do you, Camilla Moore, want to have a relationship of convenience with me? Be the benefit to my friend? Let me touch you,” I say as I lean over, letting my hand slide up her thigh. She shudders, just a little bit, and I smile. “Kiss you.” I wonder, hopeful, letting my lips graze her neck. The feel of my lips on her skin is even better than it was the first time we kissed. Which I would have thought was impossible. “Show you how wanted you are.” My tongue sneaks out, mouth opens and I suck gently. “What you do to me.” She groans, hands circling around my biceps as she lies back and I move over top of her.
I can’t give her all that she deserves, but maybe I can give her this.
I’m not even sure how it happened, but our hands are now clasped together, pressed into the couch above her head, and my lips are trailing up and down her throat. She’s moaning and writhing beneath me and I’m pressing myself against her, grinding my hips and doing exactly what I promised.
Chapter Fourteen
Owen
Feeling her in my arms was incredible. Eye opening. Unexpected.
I had to take the coldest shower of my life as soon as I got back to the lodge after we agreed to a new kind of relationship, had a hard time walking home because of the situation I had put myself in. I still ended up wrapping my hand around myself as I pictured her.
I made sure she was happy, content. Carried her to her bed, in fact. Then made a big show when I told her I wanted to check out her sheets because she brought them from home. My intention was to lay her in her bed and walk away. But then I got distracted. Again. That seems to happen often when I’m around her.
The faint scent of lavender filled the room. The sheets were flannel. I’d burn up sleeping in those things. The blanket was fuzzy. And thick. Two of them, actually. And a down comforter. How many layers does she sleep under?
“You get cold while you sleep?” I asked her, thinking at the time that would be the reason we wouldn’t work out — because I’m a hot sleeper. Well, that and the fact that we’ve already established we’re not in a relationship.
She burst out laughing. “Uh, no. Actually, I brought these sheets because I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got here.”
“You thought you’d be sleeping out in the cold?”
“Not exactly but I wanted to be prepared just in case the cabin didn’t have heat.”
“Speaking of heat, I promised to show you how to use the fireplace but never did.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been fine without it.”
“I’ll let you get to bed.”
“It’s four in the afternoon,” she told me and then I was the one who was laughing. “But I s
uppose I could nap. I mean, if you’re determined to tuck me in or something.”
I shook my head, chuckling.
“How about I cook you dinner then?”
“Hmm. What did you have in mind?”
“Not sure. What do you have here? Or do you want to go up to my place?”
“Hot sandwiches okay?”
I smiled. She smiled back. And I was in awe that she suggested one of my favorites. We made sandwiches together. Buttered bread. Warmed up thin slices of ham to pile high on top of the bread. Layered cheese and a spicy mayo. Sliced pickles for crunch. She threw a bag of kettle cooked potato chips on the table between us and set down a couple cans of soda.
We were a couple teenagers. We had made out to the point our lips were tingling. Dry humping until she came. And then we sat on the couch and ate sandwiches and chips with her laptop set on a kitchen chair turned to face us, playing a movie.
Once our stomachs were full and the movie was finished, I wasn’t ready to walk back to my empty home. So I didn’t leave. I asked her why she was with me. What brought her here. She told me about her ex. How he was basically a bum. She said other stuff, too, but that’s what I got out of it. He’s not just a bum. He’s a jackass.
And she’s better off without him. So much better.
She was feeling inspired to write again. For the first time in a few years even though she’d put out books in the meantime. In her words, her books didn’t sell like she’d have liked them to. Or, rather, expected them to, based on her sales in the past.
Swore it wasn’t because of her husband.
But I wonder if that had something to do with it.
Either way, being here at The Escape has given her what she needed to feel ready to write again.
So today I promised myself I’d leave her to it. Let her have the space she needs and had been looking for when she made the reservation with me. She needs time alone and not around someone who just wants to grope her constantly.
First thing the next morning, I wandered outside to cut wood because if I didn’t give myself a task I knew I’d be barging through her door, pinning her against a wall and finishing what we started last night.
I loaded up the bed of my pickup with wood to bring down to her, determined to show her how to start a fire in the fireplace. But then I stopped myself because I knew if I did that, it would take away from what she needs. Went back inside, started to clean up my apartment above the lodge and take care of placing some orders for summer.
Now it’s been three days since I’ve laid eyes on her and to keep my feet from taking me down to her cabin, I’m deep cleaning the lodge. Pent-up energy has me moving around and not able to sit still. I don’t know what’s stopping me. She said she was okay with what we agreed upon. I know she is. But taking that step, it feels final. Like that’s all we can be.
Cleaning up the lodge isn’t necessarily something that needs to be done but feels good to take care of, nonetheless. Scrubbing the floors and wiping down the walls. Cleaning out the cooler and freezer, pitching old food that expired. Dusted the shelves and cleaned up the pantry, too. I even organized the fishing gear that I have for sale and went through The Escape branded clothing people have started buying more and more.
It takes me all day and it doesn’t matter because I still can’t get Cami off my mind.
I should have gone down to her cabin. How can I just barge in there when I want so badly for her to know that she’s worth more than that?
“Fuck, stop overthinking this shit,” I mutter to myself.
The door to the lodge opens just as I’m finishing up behind the front counter.
“Avoiding me?” Cami asks, shedding her coat and hanging it up on the hook right by the door. She removes her boots and walks my way.
Dark gray leggings. A black sweater that’s showing a little bit of her left shoulder. No bra strap, which has my imagination immediately running rampant. I didn’t get the chance to kiss that skin the last time we were together and I have my first regret. Her hair is down, a little messy from wearing her beanie on the way here and removing it. Cheeks are rosy and I wonder if she’d been outside longer than just the walk from her cabin to here. It’s not a long walk. Her lips are a light shade of pink, glossy, and her eyelashes are coated in thick mascara. But I think that’s the only makeup she’s wearing.
“Obviously. I’m too irresistible for you. I was only doing you a favor so you could, what did you say? Get your words in.”
“How very noble of you.”
She leans over the counter, elbows resting on the dark multi-colored laminate.
“I’m a giver.” I smirk, matching her position and laying my hands on the counter. Another inch and our hands will touch.
She responds with sucking in a breath, licking her lips and eyes growing hooded. Looks down at our hands and back up to me. Those blue eyes of hers look like the ocean at night. Dark and fathomless. They’re telling.
Not good for my self-control or decision to let her have her space.
“It’s quiet in here.” She looks around, standing up and walking around. Turning to look over her shoulder at me, she asks, “Did you clean?”
I can’t speak so I nod. I don’t know if it’s because I know the sounds she makes when she comes or if it’s because I know how her lips feel on mine, soft and pliant, but she’s more beautiful now than I’ve ever seen her.
Something in her… a lightness that wasn’t there before, maybe. It’s like a weight has been lifted and she’s truly happy. For the first time I’ve met her.
“It looks good. Smells good.”
She has her back turned to me now so I have to speak. “Thanks.”
“Were you planning this for today?” she asks, knowingly.
“No.” No reason to not be anything but completely honest with her. She knows exactly why I spent my day cleaning.
“About done?”
“I am.”
“Got any other plans?”
“My schedule is free.”
She turns around slowly, facing me. Grins. I come around from behind the counter and lean back against it, resting my hands on the edge.
She taps her chin. “Well, wouldn’t you know it? Mine is, too.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Convenient.”
“Isn’t it?”
She takes a step toward me and I wait, needing her to come to me. Something tells me my heart is more on the line here than hers. I’ll be the one left behind when she goes home. The one who has to look around and see memories of her everywhere I look. Her scent will cling to the cabin and I won’t want anyone else to rent it.
These are the things I’ve thought about since the moment I recognized my attraction to her wasn’t going away. So basically, from the second we met.
My hesitation and reason for pushing, protecting myself, and not wanting to start anything with her. I’m sure it makes me sound like a wuss, or maybe a little selfish, but it is what it is.
“I sure don’t want you to get bored with that free schedule of yours.”
“It would be a shame,” I agree.
Cami walks to me in her fuzzy bright green socks. Her legs are long and perfectly shaped. Not too slender. Strong enough that she could wrap them around my waist as I pin her against the door like I imagine doing. Damn, she’s biting her lip as she watches me taking her in.
“I think it’s time to see about one of those benefits, don’t you?”
“You sure about that?”
“Oh, I’m positive. You’ve been hanging out up here for three days after you promised me something. I’m here to cash in.”
She’s now standing right in front of me.
I don’t resist this time. I pull her to me and once she’s in my arms, I waste no time. I spin us both around, lift her up, and place her on the counter. She opens her legs and I step between them. Our mouths collide. Fireworks explode. We whimper and moan each other’s names and grapple for clothes.
That
pent-up energy I was feeling?
Apparently it was sexual.
All of it.
Every last little bit of it because right now, I can’t stop myself. And I don’t want to.
Outside I hear thunder, which should make me worried because thunder snow means we’ll be getting one helluva snowstorm. It only stirs my desire for her even more. I want to feel her wrapped around me more than anything. Maybe we’ll be snowed in, unable to do anything but… each other.
“Was that thunder?” she asks when I leave her mouth and trail kisses over that shoulder I’ve been lusting over for the past few minutes.
“Mm hmm.”
“In the winter?”
She really wants to talk weather right now? Now?!
“Yup.”
“Is that… normal?” she asks but barely squeaks the last word out because she’s fighting against a groan and her head is falling back, her legs are tightening around my waist and pulling me in closer to her. She smells freaking amazing. My fear of her scent surrounding me after she leaves is no longer a fear. I want it around me forever.
“It’s fine. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” I’m panting and don’t want to stop but even more I want to spend some time in my bed with her.
Instead of asking, I lift her off the counter and those thighs that I just knew were strong enough to hold on to me are proving how so very right I am as she clings to me. I manage to take three steps then stop because she’s very distracting. Her mouth is currently going to town on my neck, up my jaw, and cheek. She knows what she wants. And what she wants is my mouth back on her.
The second her tongue plunges inside my mouth, I almost crumble to the floor. My knees go weak and it takes great effort for me to stay standing.
One could argue that I’m having this reaction because it’s been a few years since I’ve been with a woman. I would argue vehemently against that. There’s no way just anyone would set me on fire like Cami does.
At the base of the stairs, I stop.
“Are you still thinking?” she practically whines.
Staying For You Page 13
