Page 52 of Be Mine Forever

“Cam, could we wait until—”

“No. Now.”

Those were the last words her brain caught and held. He ate her like the first meal of the day. Like he’d slept on an empty stomach and woke up ravenous. He alternated tender licks and kisses and nips with the near-rough pressure of his lips and the ruthless thrust of his tongue, all the while massaging and pinching and rubbing her breasts. Any self-consciousness Jo had melted into a puddle along with her thoughts, pooling around the hips she pushed into his lapping mouth. She grunted and screamed and hissed through the torturous pleasure of him feasting between her legs until a prism combusted behind her eyes, exploding in shards of color. She dug her fingers into the dense muscles sculpting his shoulder. She scraped her nails across his scalp, pulling his hair and pressing her knees into his head while she shattered into his hungry mouth.

Lucid thoughts filtered back into her mind like pinpricks of light. Bits of food clung to her naked back. Her boy shorts dangled from an ankle. She had one handful of Cam’s dark hair, and in the other hand she clutched the whisk. Had she actually just had oral sex on food? For a moment, all she could think of was Clorox wipes, and then Cam stood up. His hair curled and waved around his face where her fingers had rioted through it. His eyes were still smoked up and he glanced between her legs like he wanted seconds. He licked his wet lips, closing his eyes like he was savoring her taste.

So much for lucidity.

Jo sat up and slid her hands to the front of his jeans, gripping him through the denim.

“I’m so ready, Cam.” She spread herself a few inches wider, inviting him in. “Can we do this?”

He grabbed her wrist, pushing her fist up and down on him for a few seconds, biting his bottom lip before stepping away. He walked over to the sink, leaning back and forcing his hands through the dark hair all over his head, drawing and releasing a heavy breath.

“Not yet.”

Everything hot and melted inside Jo cooled and congealed into a solid block of rejection and embarrassment, settling at the bottom of her belly like a bag of stones. She brushed vegetables from her back and pulled the sleeves of Cam’s shirt over her arms and shoulders, not bothering to button up. She crossed the shirt panels over her breasts and hopped off the counter, pulling up her underwear as soon as her feet hit the hardwood floor. She wiggled her toes to loosen the flour from between them and turned to make a hasty-as-hell retreat from this kitchen. She had almost reached the door when Cam’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pressing her back into his chest. She tried to shake him loose, but he tightened around her.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words into her neck. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You never do.”

Jo elbowed him in his six-pack and turned on him, anger bubbling up from a dark cave in her chest and forcing angry words into the light.

“You son of a bitch.” She balled her fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes up at him. “I have raw veggies in bad places, and you have the nerve to turn me down? Again?”

Were his lips twitching? Oh, he thought this was funny? The hurt, the years of rejection and confusion and mixed signals? That was funny to him? Jo charged back over to the center island and grabbed the bag of flour. Before Cam could anticipate what she planned, she dumped it all over his head.

“Laugh now, Cam.”

And of course he did. He clutched his stomach and leaned against the wall, flour dusting the dark, silky hair and covering his broad shoulders.

“Peppers!” he managed to say, gasping between laughs.

This was not funny. Or maybe it was a little, but Jo refused to let him lighten this moment. Even when the corners of her mouth pulled up without her permission, she refused to gut bust laugh. Even when a giggle poked through her tight lips, she managed to hold it together.

“Flour!” Cam pointed to his head and slapped a knee. Literally slapped a knee. He could be so broody and secretive that when he laughed like this, free and silly, she could never resist him. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t resist him dark and broody either. Was there a state she could resist Cam in? It hadn’t been discovered.

So she grinned. She rolled her eyes, but her grin green-lit him to approach her again, albeit with hisI come in peacearms up. He wrapped himself around her and shook his floury head over her like a wet dog, sending snowy particles all over her head and shoulders.

“Cam!” She laughed and slipped her arms around his waist, giving in to the irresistible force he exerted on her without even trying. “I need a shower.”

“We both do.” He pushed a flour-coated tendril back from her face, the laughter slowly leaking from his face. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong a few minutes ago.”

“It wasn’t the way you said it, Cam.” She brushed a little more flour from his hair, resting her elbows on his shoulders. “It’s the fact that you keep saying it. This isn’t about me being horny.”

Although there was a stack of crocheted muffs and a knitting needle in her bedroom that might beg to differ. Even so…

“This is about you trusting me with whatever is holding you back. Not just sexually. You’ve corded off all these parts of your life, of your past, that you don’t want me to access or to know about.”

“I’m trying, Jo.”

“No. Trying is talking. Trying is trusting me.”

Cam nodded, resolve taking full possession of his face, inch by inch.

“Can we just enjoy the day before we talk about my screwed up past? I promised you fun and rest this weekend.”

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