“Goodnight, Avery.”
And then he kissed me—kissed me like he’d had right before he’d left the night of our date. Kissed me like he was a man starving for oxygen and I was the only air he needed to breathe. The hand around my neck held me there, raised up on my elbows as his mouth devoured mine. And that was the only word I could use to accurately explained how he kissed me.
Cam devoured me.
My lips opened, needing almost no coaxing, and his tongue slipped in, teasing mine as his hand tightened behind my neck. He tasted like toothpaste and it had my senses spinning. A sound rumbled from deep inside his chest as he pushed back, sliding his hand out from under me.
The moment my head hit the pillow, a tiny burst of panic kicked the air out of my lungs. Where was this heading? I thought about his sister being down the hall and his parents sleeping on the floor above, but then he kissed me again, a sweet tender kiss as he cupped my cheek. The panic eased off, the thoughts slipped away.
Cam hovered above me and I wanted to feel him on me, our bodies pressed together. Once that need took root, warring emotions rose inside me. Was this too much? Not enough? He caught my lower lip between his teeth, and a moan escaped me.
I was going to go with not enough.
In an act of supreme bravery fueled by desire, I reached down and slid my hands under the hem of his shirt. Cam jerked as my fingers grazed his bare, taut skin. He stilled for a moment and then he pulled away. I almost demanded to know why, because I’d come this far to actually touch him and he was leaving me? What in the holy hell was up with that?
Cam reached down and pulled his shirt off, over his head.
Oh.
Oh.
My breath hitched as I soaked him in. Cam’s body was gorgeous. All smooth, tight skin stretched over rock hard muscle. I wanted to ask about the tattoo and if it symbolized something to him, but couldn’t force the words from my mouth.
He yanked the comforter down, and my heart jumped. Immediately, I thought about what I had done in the bed. Our gazes locked and I couldn’t move or breathe. He climbed over me, his arms caging me in, surrounding me in a way that made me feel small… and safe. My hands went to his stomach, flattening against his skin. The muscles of his abs spasmed.
Cam dropped his forehead to mine. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I didn’t, but as he lowered himself onto me, I started to get a good idea. I could feel him against my stomach, through our clothes, hard and thick. I thought that would pull me out of the heady haze of desire, but it didn’t. Heat flared between my thighs, my pulse pounded throughout my body. I shifted under him, bringing him closer to where I ached for him.
“Fuck,” he growled, his large body shaking.
He captured my lips in a searing kiss as he settled between my legs, muffling the pleasant groan that had worked its way up my throat. His hips rolled into mine, and my nerve endings were suddenly on fire. The thin material of my pajamas were nothing between the hard, hot skin of his chest and mine. His hips made another slow thrust that had my toes curling as I gripped his sides. His kiss turned deeper, more urgent as he slid his hand from my cheek, down my neck. His hand brushed the swell of my breast, so close to the sensitive bud before following the curve of my stomach to the flare of my hips. He curved his hand around my thigh, lifting my leg around his hip. He settled deeper, pressing against my sex in a way that thrilled me at the same time it stirred a conflicting emotion. When his hips rocked again, I whimpered against his lips.
“I like that sound,” he said, moving his hips. I made it again, flushing. “Correction. I love that fucking sound.”
Sensations raced across my skin, building into an ache in my core. It was like the night in my bed but much stronger, more intense and so very real. His hand was on the move again, trailing up my side, jumping to my hand. His fingers tangled with mine for a second and then drifted up, under my sleeves as his tongue danced with mine.
Suddenly, he stilled above me and lifted his head. I forced my eyes open as I dragged in a deep breath. The look on his face; I didn’t understand it.
“Cam?”
Without saying a word, he lifted my arm and turned it over. My heart dropped. No. No. It was like slow motion. His fingers moved, thumb sliding over the length of the deep scar that cut across my vein.
He looked.
I followed his gaze.
Disbelief exploded, suffocating all the wonderful feelings that had been building in me. His thumb moved again, as if he was trying to wipe the scar away and then when it remained, he shifted his gaze to mine. There was no mistaking it. He knew—he knew what the scar was.