Naturally, I returned the favor. He didn’t even have to ask; I’d been wanting to take his cock in my mouth the whole night. I’d wanted a nice clear view of him while I sucked him off, watching his beautiful eyes roll back in his head, his body become more rigid by the second.
And if that wasn’t enough to exhaust a person, we ended up in the bedroom for our final course. Nothing fancy here, just the good ol’ missionary position. Women may scoff at it, but I’m telling you, when you have an all-male machine of strength and hard muscle primed above you, pounding you to the bed while spearing you with his eyes, there’s no better feeling in the world. To me, missionary is all about being taken.
That’s probably why I felt a little tender and vulnerable afterward. I wasn’t one for spooning, but I let him hold me pressed up against his naked body, his mouth laying soft kisses on the base of my neck. I was delirious, tired and a bit sore from all the sexual escapades. And with all that, I felt that little tug at the base of my belly, the one that produced butterflies and caused your heart to burst. One—okay, a few—stints in the sack with this man and I was starting to get emotionally attached.
I let out a long breath and snuggled my head further down into the soft pillow. I’d let myself feel all lovey-dovey and whatever for tonight. Just for tonight. Then tomorrow, I had to shut off my heart and it was business as usual.
“Do they still hurt?” Camden whispered into my hair.
I paused. “What?”
“Do the scars still hurt?”
I raised my head and twisted around to face him. His eyes had heavy lids from the lust and impending sleep, but they were curious and kind. I chewed on my lip, wiggling my jaw back and forth, debating whether I should get into another one of these discussions. But I decided to embrace it and tell the truth.
“All the time,” I answered softly.
His eyes crinkled at the corners in sadness and he gently kissed me on the forehead.
“I’m sorry they still hurt,” he said.
I nodded. “Me too.”
Feeling brave and honest, I pulled the bedspread back and showed him my leg. He had seen it many times that night, you know, with all the nakedness, but his eyes never lingered, he never reacted and never questioned. Now I wanted him to see.
He took his hand and held it above my leg. I tensed, not knowing what he was going to do. He gently placed his fingers on it and traced the ribbons from the back of my heel all the way up my calf and shin to the knee. I shivered from his touch, the sensitive scar tissue making me feel everything to the bone.
“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, tracing his fingers up and down.
“No,” I said, barely able to speak. It actually felt nice, pleasurable enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. I’d never let anyone touch them before, except the occasional doctor.
“It’s like art, Ellie,” he said gently and looked up at me. His eyes looked wet in the table lamp’s amber light.
”Art?”
“Like an abstract painting. You can find art and beauty in everything, if you look hard enough. But your beauty is just staring you in the face.”
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling thick. He gave me a small smile and then pulled the bedspread up over me.
“Come on, we should get some sleep,” he said, leaning over and switching off the lamp.
The room went dark but my heart was glowing.
***
The next morning I got up with the dawn, realizing how worried Uncle Jim was going to be. My phone had gone dead during the night and he was probably wondering why my car was still outside of his place.
I got dressed in a hurry, already feeling different in the early light. Last night had been a lot of fun but fun was all it would be. It’s all it could be.
“You sure you don’t want to shower here?” Camden asked me as he leaned against the door, watching me smooth my hair down in the bathroom. “I can make you breakfast. Mexican omelet with lots of peppers.”
“I would but Uncle Jim is probably a worried wreck. You don’t mind driving me, do you?”
He shook his head no and soon we were in his jeep, jutting down the main street. Everything looked peaceful before the shops opened, like nothing bad could happen in this town with its groomed palm trees and bright buildings.
Soon he was pulling up into the driveway beside Jose and I knew Uncle Jim was going to get a good look at him. I could already feel his disapproval radiating from the stucco.
Camden eyed the house warily, perhaps picking up on my nervy vibes, then leaned in with a smile. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that last night was the most fun I’ve ever had on Camden and Ellie’s Day of Fun. I think it was the most fun I’ve had, period.”
“It was certainly one for the books,” I told him. Hating goodbyes, I quickly kissed him on the lips.
“So you’ll stay for a while?” he asked me, all hopeful and cute. He really worked hard at ruining my resolve.
“I think so, for a few days anyway,” I said, being careful with my words. Everything was starting to count now. “I have some friends nearby. I may pay them a visit or I might check out some of the nearby towns if I can’t get a job here.”