Page 37 of Dirty Little Mistake

"No." She twisted to face me, water sloshing against the tub's edges. The playfulness from moments ago had vanished. "Eight weeks, Trystan. You didn't plan on leaving with a girlfriend. I just want to make sure that you really want this. I don’t want you to regret this. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to be tied down."

"Do you trust me?"

She slowly nodded. "I trust you until you give me a reason not to."

"Then yes." I smiled, reaching out and brushing a wet strand of her dark hair out of her face. "I want you, and it’s only eight weeks."

"Yeah," she tilted her head, "but what happens after that eight weeks. There’ll be more tours."

"We’ll figure that out when it comes." I hooked my arms around her, pulling her back to me again. "For now, let’s not worry about any of that and just enjoy the time we have left."

I sucked in a deep breath as my head fell back and my thumbs traced lazy circles on her arms. Her question playing on repeat. What would happen once I got back? The guys and I had always planned to move out to L.A., but I didn’t know where that left me and Cam.

Falling for Cam made my life so much better yet so much more complicated.

Chapter 17

Camryn

The first hint of sunlight seeped through the edges of the blackout curtains, and my stomach clenched. Each tick of the bedside clock felt like a hammer blow. Six hours left. Five hours and fifty-nine minutes. Every second dragging us closer to goodbye. Eight weeks stretched ahead of us, and all I could do was lie here, memorizing the weight of his body against mine.

As much as I wanted him to stay, I also didn’t want to hold him back from his dreams, and this had been his dream for as long as I could remember.

Trystan’s arms tightened around me, pulling my naked back flush against his front. My body fit perfectly into the curve of his, like I was meant to be there. His face nuzzled into my neck as he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin.

His lips brushed against my shoulder, voice rough with something that wasn't just desire. "I'm not ready for morning yet." His arms tightened around me, each finger pressing into my skin like he was trying to leave an imprint I could hold ontowhen he was gone. He buried his face deeper into my neck. "I'm not ready to leave yet."

I kept my eyes shut tight, afraid the darkness would shatter if I opened them, afraid morning would win. "I'm not ready either." The words came out barely louder than a breath.

His hand splayed across my stomach, anchoring me to now, to him, to us. "I wish we could stay like this forever." The words felt dangerous, too honest, but I couldn't stop them.

I arched my back as he trailed kisses over my neck and shoulder, pressing my ass hard into his cock.

"You keep doing that..." His words fell hot against my ear as his hand curved around my hip, fingers pressing just hard enough to make me shiver. The threat—or maybe promise—in his voice made heat pool low in my belly. "And I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you again." The 'again' lingered between us, heavy with memories of the night before, making my skin prickle with want.

It just so happened that was exactly what I wanted, so I pushed back harder, wiggling my hips until he grunted out something under his breath.

His lips traced my neck like he was mapping territory he'd have to remember for weeks to come. Each kiss grew hungrier than the last, teeth grazing sensitive skin until a whimper escaped me.

When his hand slid between my thighs, it wasn't with urgency but with torturous patience, his fingers tracing patterns that made my breath catch and my body arch toward his touch.

I rocked my hips forward into his hand and then back, sliding his cock between my ass cheeks.

His fingers traced patterns along my skin, touch feather-light and teasing. "Are you sore, baby?" The vibration of his words against my neck sent shivers down my spine. He lifted his head, eyes searching my face. "I don't want to hurt you."

My body trembled under his touch, hips pressing back against him. "Don't you dare stop." His fingers traced lazy circles, barely touching where I needed him most, until my breath came in desperate gasps.

His teeth grazed my earlobe, hot breath fanning against my skin. "You're so fucking wet for me." His hand stilled, waiting. "Tell me what you want, baby?"

I arched into his touch, fingers clutching the sheets. "I want you to fuck me." His fingers circled my clit, drawing a gasp from my lips. "I need to feel you inside me."

The first graze of his teeth against my shoulder sent electricity down my spine. He knew exactly how to touch me—the precise pressure that made my thoughts scatter, the rhythm that left me gasping. His arm underneath me tightened, holding me against him as I writhed. Each movement pressed me back against his hardness as he added the perfect amount of pressure to my clit.

My body fucking burned for him. To feel him deep inside of me.

He shifted, the movement deliberate and controlled, while his fingers maintained their maddening rhythm. I could feel him positioning himself, the anticipation making my breath catch. The heat of him pressed against me, promising but not delivering, teasing at my entrance until I was trembling. When he finally pushed just the tip inside, the sensation was so intense I couldn't help but rock back, desperate to take him deeper.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned against my skin. "This pussy fits my cock like a glove." He pressed his lips to my shoulder, soothing the sting of his bite. He slid in a little deeper. "This pussy belongs to me." His words rumbled through his chest into my back, possession and tenderness mixed in equal measure. Each slow circle of his fingers emphasized his claim, drawing out pleasure.

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