Page 77 of Love Off Course

He doesn’t answer. His palms slide to my breasts that are slick from the shampoo I haven’t rinsed from my hair that is sliding down them. He pinches my nipples, making me gasp, and then pulls on them almost painfully. My breathing grows heavier the more he abuses my nipples with his fingers. They’ll be sore later. Apparently I like a little pain because I’m practically squirming with need. One of his hands leaves my breast and slides down the curve of my ass. His fingers explore until he finds my pussy from behind. Easily, his finger enters my wet body. I groan when he adds a second one.

“Camilo,” I whine when he fingerfucks me almost too roughly.

“Want me to stop?”

God no.

I shake my head and he continues his probing. He’s softened his touch and I already miss the way he seemed to fuck his fingers into me in an angry way. I’m distracted from his fingers inside me when he twists my nipple. It’s strange how my body reacts in such a needy way. I’m growing closer to orgasm when he pulls his fingers out without warning. I whimper until he presses the head of his dick against my slick opening. He grabs my hip and thrusts hard. My hands slap against the tile wall tokeep from falling. Camilo crowds me, pressing my front against the chilly tiles. He fucks me hard as I cling to the wall, holding on for dear life. I know he’s upset about his dad and needs this release.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck.”

Heat floods up inside me. I haven’t climaxed yet. Normally, I’d tell him to get me off too, but things are weird right now. With his softening dick still inside me, he slips his fingers to my pussy. I moan as he easily brings me to orgasm. My body clenches around his and I can feel him already hardening back up. He moves his hips, stretching me with his growing length. I’m dizzied from the steam and still shaking from my orgasm, in no way ready to take him again.

With a growl, he shoves away from me, breaking us apart. I rest my head against the tiled wall as he quickly showers. His cursed words under his breath—several aimed at me—are enough to have me keeping out of his way until he finishes.

Be strong, Sheridan.

He’s hurting and breaking apart inside.

It’s not you, it’s him.

Camilo isn’t a cold person, but grief will make you act like an asshole. I of all people know how it feels to lash out at people you care about. There were plenty of times Daddy received my wrath.

Just when I think he’ll leave me alone in the shower, he runs his fingertips down my spine in a tender way. His hand clutches my hip and then he pats it once before escaping. As soon as he’s gone, I step under the spray to finally wash out my shampoo and cry.

I cry for him.

For us.

I cry until the water runs cold and I’m forced to finish my shower in record speed.

By the time I dry off, dress, and do something about my hair, I smell food. I walk into the kitchen. Camilo is gone but there’s a sack of takeout breakfast. He’s left a note.

Sher – Sorry for being a dick. I’ll be back later. – CZ

His note makes me tear up again. I can feel him pulling away from me with each passing moment. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to give him his space or invade it.

For now, I eat my breakfast and try like hell not to cry.

He needs me strong.

I will be strong for him.

I’m pacingthe condo hours later when Camilo decides to return. His eyes are bloodshot, and he stumbles in through the door.

“Where have you been?” I demand, my voice shrill. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

It’s dark now and I’m pissed.

“I was toasting my dad’s honor.” He shrugs, his body swaying. “What do you care?”

My nostrils flare with fury, but I reel my anger back in. I will not fight with a drunk person. “You were at the bar all day?”

“Not all day.”

“Where were you, Camilo?”

He starts to walk toward me but veers hard to the left, clipping his shoulder hard against the wall. “Ow.”

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