The Story of Me (Carnage #2)

“It’s not gonna be easy.”


“Nothing worth fighting for ever is.” My belly gives a loud rumbling sound. “Let’s eat. Then we can talk some more.” I climb out of his lap and curl into the corner of a large red leather sofa. Cam reaches down the side and puts a soft, cream-coloured fur throw over me and gets up.

“Chinese okay?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Oh, yes, please, I’ve missed an English Chinese. I didn’t like the Chinese I had in Australia very much. They didn’t even sell chips or curry sauce.”

He shakes his head as he walks away from me, goes into the kitchen area and starts to rummage through a drawer. I take the opportunity to look around the room. It’s all sleek and modern in shades of red and cream, with the odd splash of black and a bit of chrome. The level that we’re on is completely open plan and consists of a living, dining and kitchen area. There’s a flight of stairs to my left and a huge floor-to-ceiling window in front of me that stretches across one whole side of the apartment. I’d really like to get up and look out at the view, but my legs still feel shaky and I still have adrenalin coursing through me, triggered by our intense little conversation.

This whole situation is giving my emotions whiplash as I crash into guilt, after bouncing off lust, then drown in sorrow. Every time I feel one thing, I’m floored by the way I’m catapulted into feeling another. I need someone to tell me it’s okay. I want someone to go ahead and say to me, “You know what, Georgia, it’s time. Grab this relationship with both hands and be happy. You’ve been through enough. It’s about time you had something good happen in your life,” but I’m not sure that I’m entitled to hear that from anyone. Do I deserve to be happy? Do I deserve to be in love or to be loved? I’m not sure that I do. I want to believe it, but I need to hear it from someone else. I need some time with Ash and Jimmie so they can help me out with this. There’s no doubt about my feelings for Cam. I’m sure of them. It’s more to do with living with myself and the guilt that being with him would bring me that I’m confused about.

I watch him as he walks back towards where I’m sitting, menu in one hand, phone in the other, his eyes on me. Every single cell I’m made from is affected by his presence. He calms me, but he makes my heart race. I want to run far away, but I want to wrap myself around him. He sets my belly on fire and gives my skin goose bumps. He sits down next to me, his outer thigh pressed against mine. He stretches his long legs out and puts them up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles.

“What would you like to order?” I feel lightheaded and it has nothing to do with the lack of food in my stomach. When we were together, Cam and I had the best sex. We’ve made slow, beautiful love together and we’ve fucked hard and fast. I don’t think there was ever a time when I didn’t experience multiple orgasms thanks to his expert cock, fingers and tongue, but sitting here, now, fully dressed, with just the outside of our legs touching, I’m actually throbbing. My cheeks are burning both from arousal and embarrassment. I have no idea where it’s come from, but suddenly, I’m on the edge of an orgasm and I have no idea what has brought me to this state.

“Kitten, you okay?” I turn and look at him and saying nothing, I just move and straddle his lap. Raking my hands through his hair, I kiss him hard on the mouth and grind myself against him. He doesn’t kiss me back at first, but as I feel him grow hard through his jeans, I moan into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” I hear him say and suddenly I’m under him. He pulls off my tracksuit bottoms and knickers in one go as I struggle with his belt and button fly, he takes over and says, “Tits, kitten, I wanna see your tits.” Instantly I’m hearing Sean’s voice telling me, ‘Love ya, Georgia Rae, show us your tits’ and I stop. Oh, God, what am I doing? I want this so badly, but I feel so wrong for doing what I’m doing.