Page 98 of Full Tilt
We’re barely through the lobby when his phone buzzes. He checks it and exhales roughly.
“Coach. They’re ten minutes out. Meeting in half an hour.” He glances at me with a smirk I feel down to my spine. “So, you know, no pressure.”
I don’t waste a second. “Check in. Room. Now.”
He chuckles, shoulders shaking as he heads to the front desk. I stand there like a man possessed, eyes on him, barely able to keep still. It’s not just lust—not this time. It’s all the emotion bottled up from the past week: fear, comfort, honesty, exhaustion, and now this—relief. And desire. Always desire.
We take the elevator in silence, but the moment the doors close behind us in his room, I move.
His bag drops to the carpet with a thud. I push him back against the door, the soft click of the lock registering only dimly as I claim his mouth in a kiss that’s rougher than I mean it to be.
He moans into it, hands finding my hips, and pulls me in tight. “You gonna do what you said in the truck?”
I grin against his mouth. “Every goddamn word.”
I kiss him again, deeper now. His beard scrapes my skin as our mouths slide, tongues tasting, testing, then devouring. The heat between us spikes, thick and urgent. My fingers grip the hem of his shirt, and he lifts his arms to help me peel it off.
“You sure we’ve got time?” I murmur, even though I’m already walking him backwards towards the bed.
He nods, eyes blazing. “Yeah. I need this.”
His honesty slams into me like a freight train.
Cam’s never been shy with me, but there’s a rawness to this moment. A need to feel grounded. I know what this is. Not justsex. Not just release. It’s about connection. About sayingI love youin a language we both speak fluently.
We fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and breath. I roll over him, kiss my way down his neck, his chest, over every scar and mark I can find. He’s solid and strong and so fucking responsive—like every brush of my lips is another thread pulling us tighter.
“Brent,” he murmurs, fingers threading into my hair.
“I’m here.”
“I want—” He swallows hard, hips rising towards mine. “You. All of you.”
My breath catches. “Yeah. Okay. Same.”
Clothes disappear. Skin meets skin. There’s no time for slow, no room for hesitation—not today. But even in the urgency, there’s a softness underneath. My hands are everywhere. So are his. He keeps murmuring my name like it’s an anchor. I prep him with care—slow, attentive strokes that have him trembling under my hands. His breath stutters, hips twitching with each glide of my fingers, every quiet word of reassurance I murmur against his neck. His skin is flushed, hot beneath my palms, and when I kiss his nipple before drawing it into my mouth, he lets out a soft, wrecked sound that curls straight down my spine.
When I finally ease into him, it’s not just the tight heat that steals the breath from my lungs—it’s the way he exhales my name like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. His back arches, legs shifting to pull me deeper, and I still for a second, overwhelmed by the feel of him around me, the moment heavy and raw and entirely ours.
“God,” I rasp, forehead pressed to his. “You feel… fuck, you feel incredible.”
“So do you,” he pants, wrapping his legs around me, urging me deeper.
The rhythm builds—fast and greedy but still laced with something reverent. Every thrust is a vow I don’t know how to put into words. Every kiss I press to his shoulder, his neck, the corner of his mouth—it’s a promise whispered through touch alone. The heat between us grows fierce, our breaths tangled, our bodies moving in sync like they’ve always known how to find each other. I don’t know how long we stay locked in that rhythm—seconds? lifetimes?—but when he comes, it’s with my name broken across his lips. Raw. Shaking. The sound of it unravels me. My spine turns to liquid. My heart feels too big for my chest. And still, I hold on tighter.
I follow a few seconds later, buried deep, vision splintering behind my eyes as everything inside me lets go.
Afterwards, we lie tangled in the mess of sheets and sweat and emotion, Cam’s arm draped over my chest, his breath slowing against my shoulder.
“Shit,” he mutters after a long pause. “We’re gonna need a shower.”
“And new sheets,” I add, grinning into his hair.
“And maybe an alibi.”
I laugh, chest shaking under his weight. “Your coach said in the conference room, not presentable. He should’ve been more specific.”
Cam hums and kisses the side of my neck. “Guess I better get moving.”
