Page 28 of You're So Vine
He forces himself to look at me. “Said she’s fine. Thanked me for checking in.”
His shoulders hunch up as he adds, “I’m sorry. Ava. Lee’s an old friend and we look out for each other. But that doesn’t excuse my shitty timing. Can we start again?”
Jesus. Now, I don’t know if I’m pissy or amused. He looks so hangdog, so guilty. And it’s nice that he cares about people so much. I just wish it was other people, and not beautiful, single Lee frigging Armstrong.
We’ll have to have a conversation about why she has such a hold on him, but it can wait. I could let Cam stew for longer, but one of the upsides of being impatient is that you don’t waste time on pointless activity. Okay, so I’m absolutely begrudging Lee Armstrong for coming between us but, frankly, I don’t want to give her another thought. Right now, right here, it’s only me and Cam. Who’d frigging better have switched off his phone.
“I’m sorry, Ava,” he says again.
His shoulders are still all guilt-hunched. I tend to be wary before I trust, but Cam has only ever seemed sincere. Right now, that’s good enough for me.
“Phone’s off, right?” I say. “Not just on silent but completely dead?”
Cam looks like he doesn’t dare be hopeful.
“Door’s locked, too,” he says. “Bolted and chained.”
“Condoms within reach? Good brand, not some cheap, flimsy crud?”
“One hundred percent electronically tested.”
Flicker of a smile with that. He’s sitting straighter, too. Half-turned to me like he is, his abs are wondrously taut. I’ve dated gym-obsessives before, but Cam’s muscle definition isn’t like that. Gym guys look artificial, like they’ve been designed to fit the latest trend, which is currently that absurd combo of big muscle and super low-fat, aka “ripped”. Cam’s definitely got big muscles, but they look natural, like they’ve developed over time through physical work, not through pumping iron and chugging down creatine and whey.
Sexy hot feelings are starting to kick in again. I can feel my nipples tightening and my nether parts loosening. I lie back, propped on my elbows, back slightly arched so my perky breasts are on full display. Stretch my legs in a centerfold come hither pose.
Cam’s got on his stunned-by-a-brick expression. If he goes all “I can’t do this. You deserve better,” I really will smack him one. There’s only thing he needs to do now, and that’s roll on one of those electronically tested bad boys and slide inside me pronto.
Luckily for him, Cam reads the room. There’s a momentary lag as he breaks into the box (why so much annoying plastic?) But then I hear the beautiful sound of tearing foil, and here’s Cam, his amazing, tantalizing cock fully sheathed, poised over me, his eyes staring into mine.
“You’re sure?” he has to say because he’s Cam.
In reply, I draw his hand downwards so he can discover how sure I am. On contact, he gives a small groan and screws his eyes shut. He’d better last the distance, or we’ll be having words.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
Then he opens his eyes and smiles at me, I could swear almost wickedly. Starts moving his finger and thumb, slow and steady, stimulating every erogenous part down there – including a couple I didn’t know I had. Seems like a small hiatus was beneficial, even if I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I’m so close to coming it’s excruciating, the tension stiffening my whole body until I’m desperate for release.
But even though I know he knows I’m close, he won’t pick up the pace. I get an inkling that this is our sexual destiny: me impatient, Cam refusing to be rushed. My orgasm is building and building, inexorable but oh, so goddamn slow. My breathing’s ragged and I hate him for torturing me.
God, it’s here, finally, the last big wave that will push me over the edge. And right then, Cam enters me. The sensation of his cock filling me, connecting with every nerve, triggers an orgasm that feels like it lifts me off the bed. It keeps coming –Ikeep coming – pulsing through me like I’m super-charged with electricity, my lady parts gripping Cam’s cock, which is still moving inside me, slowing as my orgasm ebbs and my body goes limp as a rag.
I’ve been in la-la land, unaware of anything but orgasm. So selfish, but, I feel, earned. Now my breathing has returned to almost normal, I open my eyes. There he is, looking a little smug.
“Well, that’s one,” I say, to knock him off his perch.
He’s smiling again.
“How many do you want?” he asks.
Touché.
“Limits only exist in your mind,” I say. “I read that somewhere. Probably a locker room wall.”
“Okay, then. We’ll leave it open.”
Cam’s keeping his weight off me, resulting in a pleasing view of his remarkable biceps. His cock is hard as ever, but parked up inside me, stationary. He’s being true to his nature, no rush, taking his time. I know from our kitchen counter episode that Cam is quite capable of being crazed by lust, even though it was mostly me urging him on. The memory of him wanting me that badly brings out my inner imp. He thinks he’s in control of this situation. He hasn’t bargained with the determination of Ava Durant.
“Let’s change it up,” I say. “Position-wise.”
