“I want you,” I whisper, the words coming out on their own, so natural. As if I never left him. I panic, my heart stammering in my chest in anticipation of his reply.
His eyes widen as if he’s shocked to hear my admission. Quickly, he masks his surprise with an arrogant smirk. My stomach sinks knowing whatever he’s going to say next, I’m not going to like.
“After a fight I’m usually in need for a good fucking, Tate. I have a phone full of fuck buddies, should I add your number?”
Without a second thought, my hand collides with his face. Guilt for opening up to him rushes over me like a wave. That anger taking over my lustful state.
He steps back, his cheeks hollowed out with anger.
“I’m not some backup or second choice to your lonely evenings.” I fume. I thought we got somewhere tonight, I thought we finally made a connection. I sigh, pinning him with angry eyes. I was very wrong.
He thumbs his chin as his eyes rake me from top to bottom.
“There’s the Tate I know,” his voice laced with sarcasm and it pisses me off. My heart and mind done with these damn games I slap him again and it ignites something between us. His jaw ticks and in one quick move he grasps me under the thighs, picking me up and slamming my back against the wall.
Out of instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck. Feeling him between my legs causes a rush of excitement to surge through me.
God he smells good. I look down at him and he stares back with hooded eyes. His nose holds a more crooked angle than I remember, but it makes him look more distinguished.
He gyrates his hips and the head of his dick rubs against my sex just right. I can’t help the parting of my mouth, and the wave of lust that flashes in my eyes.
He smiles knowingly and does it again. My fingers dig into his strong shoulder blades as he does it again and again. The thin material of my pants and his shorts causes me to feel every ridge of his cock.
Pressure blooms in my lower half, as we both begin to pant. His fingers strangling my hips as he shifts me up and down along his jersey covered shaft grinding me into a pleasure I don’t want to ever fade.
My nails dig into his bare shoulder blades. My body conflicted on what it should be feeling. Hurt, anger, or pleasure.
Impulsively, I circle myself on top of him wanting so much more not caring what is going on in my head as what is going on between my legs is much more important.
He continues to drive his cock against me, and my head bangs against the wall, my toes curling as the intense sensation of pleasure ripples up my legs and fires in-between my thighs.
I clench my eyes shut, and try with all my might to keep my composure. Not wanting to come yet. Especially like this.
He grunts, his hips jerking against mine and with the rugged sound vibrating within his chest, I moan loudly. Hearing him let go intensifies my release.
He slows his thrusts, his fingers releasing my hips slowly. My head is sideways, my gaze locked on the window as his strong hold on me fades. My impulsive sexual need that ran so rampant just seconds ago fleeing, and reality setting in.
We just dry humped like horny teenagers.
Letting my feet hit the floor I brush my hair from my face and risk looking at him.
His face is flushed, and his shorts have a wet stain on the front.
Holy shit.
He turns his head sideways, and rubs the back of his neck nervously.
Still trying to catch my breath, I push myself off the wall and adjust my yoga pants. They’ve ridden up, and they too have some wetness on the crotch area. I’m not sure if it’s from him or me though.
Wow, this is embarrassing.
“I should go,” I mutter.
This time instead of taking the window, I head for the door not needing anymore wardrobe malfunctions. Striding out of his room, the hallway and living room are littered with unpacked boxes.
Stepping over them, I all but race out of his house.
What just happened was so intense and hot, but I can’t help but feel like an idiot. I just dry humped Camden fucking Steel.
He has tons of women at his side, experienced women, and I just humped his goddamn leg like a rabbit.
Kill me now.
Chapter Fourteen
18 years old
Camden
Pulling Tate close, I breathe her in. She leaves tomorrow and it’s literally ripping me apart. I want to kill her father for making her do this. He’s sending her off to college. He is making her believe it’s what her mother wanted, but I know it’s because she looks just like her mom.
Tate won’t let me come with her either. I caught the interest of a coach at my last match, and if I can deliver in the next fight he has set up, it could mean big things for me. Because of this, Tate is refusing I follow her to LA.
She says it would be good for us, to develop individually, to find ourselves without depending on the other. But how can I do anything without her? We’ve been inseparable since we were kids. I won’t be able to do anything without seeing her face, hearing her laugh, or smelling her sweet perfume.