“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “You don’t need to feel terrible. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Cam watched me for a few more moments, expression sheltered. Finally, he said, “Well, there’s always next year.”
I smiled at that. Next year. Wow. Thinking that far in advance was a little scary and exciting.
After a little while, Cam scooped the turtle up and stood. “Be right back.”
While Cam took his pet back to his apartment, I rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth. I was done seconds before he came back. He pulled the wool sweater off, draping it over the back of the couch. The gray shirt that had been on underneath stretched over his broad chest and when he stretched before he sat down, the shirt rose, exposing a span of taut skin.
My heart rate kicked up as I watched him from the hallway. Cam and I kissed—a lot—and he liked to cuddle, so in a week, I’d grown use to him having his arms around me and his lips on mine, but we hadn’t done anything like we had Thanksgiving night, even though I imagined that he wanted to. So there was many nights I went to bed, thinking about him, and while I could get some relief from what was turning into a constant low simmering ache, it wasn’t enough.
He wanted me.
I wanted him.
We were together.
And I trusted him.
Biting down on my lip, I toyed with the edge of the sweater dress I wore. I’d taken off the boots and tights when we’d gotten back and now tiny bumps spread across my bare legs.
Was he waiting for me to make the first move? He seemed so… careful with me, as if he was worried that I’d run away from him. I wanted to run to him. Cam glanced over at me, brow raised. The room was dark with the exception of the glow from the TV. “You going to come over here or stare at me the rest of the evening?”
My cheeks flushed as I pushed away from the door. I could do this. I didn’t need to wait on him to make a move.
Gathering my courage, I walked over to him. He stared up at me with those extraordinary eyes as he lifted a hand. I placed mine in his, but instead of sitting beside him, I climbed into his lap, straddling him.
Cam immediately straightened, his hands flying to my hips. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I replied, heart pounding so fast there was a good chance I was going to have a heart attack.
His gaze dipped, thick lashes shielding his eyes. “Did you miss me this much? I was only gone a few minutes?”
“Maybe.” I placed my hands on his shoulders as I lowered myself down. My grip tightened as I felt his arousal pressing against the softest part of me.
His hands traveled up my sides slowly, so slowly that I thought I would die by the time he cupped my cheeks. “What are you doing?”
I wetted my lips and his lashes lifted, revealing a deeper shade of blue. “What does it look like?”
“I can think of a few things.” His thumbs moved over my cheeks. “All of them have me extremely interested.”
“Interested?” My breaths were coming out fast and short. “That’s good.”
Then, because it seemed like he was letting me take the lead on this, I brought my head down to his. Our lips brushed once, twice, and then I pressed mine to his more firmly. He followed me, our kisses becoming deeper, slower, and infinitely more as his tongue tortured mine in a way that had me shaking and wanting so very much more.
His hands slid back down in a slow, languid pace, causing my back to arch into the movement. Even though the only experience I had with this was what we’d done Thanksgiving night, it seemed like my body knew what to do. I rocked my hips and his hands tightened on my waist. A shudder worked its way down his large body, and it was both a bit frightening and a lot exhilarating.
One of his hands balled in the material of my dress, inching it up my thighs. The other drifted back up, over my front and then across my breast. He cupped me, his thumb smoothing over the tip, teasing the hardening peak through the clothing. A moan rushed me and it came out, a sound that seemed to thrill Cam.
“You liked that?” he asked, his lips brushing mine.
Did he really need confirmation? “Yes.”
His thumb moved in a slow, tortuous circle over my tip. I tried to catch my breath as his lips left mine. He nipped at my chin and then down my neck. My back arched further, pushing my breast further into his hand as my hips rolled again. The sexiest sound rumbled from his chest as he leaned back and looked at me.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His hand moved to my other breast. “Anything. And I’ll do it.”
There was one thing I needed from him. “Touch me.”
Cam shuddered again, and the action made me hot. “May I?”