Page 21 of Under My Skin

That does it. Her name’s on my lips as I come, and fuck me…I feel guilty now. And so fucking stupid.

I towel myself off and throw some boxer briefs on before I climb into bed, but I can’t sleep. Reid and Liam were right. I’ve got a full-on crush forming, and it’s not going to end well for me. Lizzie doesn’t need a divorced, single dad with all my baggage, and I don’t need a young woman who’s barely lived her life and has so much more in front of her.

I probably just need to get laid, and then I’ll feel differently about her.

I won’t slip up like that again.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself as I finally drift off.

11

LIZZIE

Wow.

I just walked inside my house, and I’m leaning against my front door, shaking my head.

At myself.

Did that actually happen?

Did he seriously say all that?

The ball was in my court, and what did I do? I avoided the subject and ran like a scared little girl in way over her head. Because that’s what I am.

I could have been sexy and flirty, but instead, I was a deer in headlights who brought up her pottery class for his kids. I’m sure that’s the last thing a guy wants to be reminded of when he’s trying to make a move on a woman.

It all just seemed so unbelievable to me that I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and I just clammed up.

Cameron Dylan was literally on his knees in front of me, looking at me like I was his dessert, and all I could think about was…How do I do this?I mean, I’ve fantasized about it about two hundred times, both awake and asleep, but nothing could have prepared me for it happening in real life.

I just didn’t know what to do. It all felt so surreal. I guess part of me still feels like that awkward teenage girl spying on him from my treehouse, knowing he would never look at me that way. So much so that adult me doesn’t seem to be able to trust it now.

I never got a lot of male attention in high school, being a late bloomer, and by the time I started appreciating my looks for what they were, I was more interested in getting my business started than saying yes to dates. And while I tell Lia—and myself—that I’m technically not a virgin, I’ve never felt more like one than when Cameron was touching my thigh and I was wishing that he would reach…higher.

God, his fingers were right there. And he was so gentle and caring and hot…I rub my thighs together. He didn’t even do anything, and my panties are damp.

I need to take care of this.

I run upstairs and strip down before jumping in the shower. The water is still cold, but I don’t care.

I close my eyes, and Cameron’s face immediately comes to mind. Him kneeling in front of me. His mouth right where I need it most. I move my hand down my stomach and between my legs and moan at how wet I am and how good it feels to brush across my swollen clit.

I imagine his mouth where my fingers are, and all it takes is a few more strokes and I’m falling over the edge, experiencing one of the best orgasms of my life.

God, I needed that.

I quickly finish my shower and get in bed, trying not to think of the way I fumbled the end of the night.

It’s not working, so I decide to replay the good things in my mind instead. Like the feel of his body against mine while dancing. His skin on mine in his kitchen. The way he wanted to take care of me.

So, for the second night in a row, I fall asleep thinking about Cameron. Wondering if the real him measures up to my fantasies.

And, more than anything, hoping I didn’t ruin any chance of knowing that for sure.

* * *

I climbout of bed after tossing and turning for most of the night and decide to jump in the shower. Again. The lingering smell of the arnica cream is another reminder of Cameron’s hands on my body, and I can’t take it anymore. After undressing, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and cringe. The bruise really is bad, and for the first time, I actually consider going to see a doctor.

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