Page 5 of Cam
“You want that?” he asked.
Did I want an O from Mr. Hottie?
He lifted his head so our gazes held again.
I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know his name. What his favorite color was. If he liked gel or mint toothpaste. All I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that he could DEFINITELY give me an O with his mouth. On my pussy.
My vagina clenched, the closest thing to a cheer it could give. Along with soaking my panties. That he was going to keep.
What other options did I have? Right, continue to be the designated driver for my drunk friends. Go home to who-the-hell-knew-what with my Dad. Maybe he’d be passed out. Maybe he’d want me to cook him a grilled cheese. Maybe I’d find more broken dish pieces.
None of that… heck,nothingsounded as good as an orgasm from Mr. Hottie.
There was only one answer.
“Yes.”
4
CAM
I rememberedwhen Bray pulled his head out of his ass and decided Katie was his, the story Ace and Cody told was that he threw her over her shoulder and carried her out of here. I was impressed with his restraint, considering he’d waited until they were at least in the parking lot before he fucked her. But knowing Bray, he wouldn’t have taken her for the first time in such an uncomfortable setting.
The difference between the two of us was, he knew Katie Camden. She’d been coming to our house to hang with Lainey for fifteen years or more.
I didn’t know the woman I was leading by the handtoward the back hallway. She wanted me. I wanted her.
‘Nuf said.
Bar patrons parted like the Red Sea, perhaps because of the determinedDon’t fuck with melook on my face. I knew Kyle, the owner of The Roadside, would keep his office locked. I skipped that door and the bathrooms–sticking to the left to avoid the line of women waiting–and went out the emergency door. When the door slammed behind us, it was pretty fucking dark, this side of the lot close enough to a clump of evergreens that there was no parking, only a single lane that circled to the building. Fortunately, we weren’t near the rear kitchen door and the dumpsters.
Only the faint throb of the music came from inside. There was a single exterior light high up at the roofline. The harsh angle lit the space but cast us in deep shadow.
The air was crisp and cool. While it had been warm this afternoon, September meant chilly nights and I’d heard frost was in the forecast before dawn. Except I didn’t feel it.
When I put my hands on her shoulders so she was pressed between the side of the building and my body, I felt her heat, too.
Our breaths mingled and every time she inhaled,her tits bumped my chest. Before I could lower my head, her hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me down.
And kissed me.
I liked a woman who knew what she wanted, especially if it was her mouth on mine.
She had control for about two or three seconds, then I took over, cupping her face with my palms and angling her head how I wanted it.
Our tongues met. Tangled.
I rolled my hardness into her belly.
Heard her moan.
Yes. Fuck, she tasted sweet. A little wild.
Fiery.
Yet there was an undercurrent of tentativeness, which made no sense.
“Fuck, red, you taste so fucking good. Your lips are sweet like candy. What about your other lips?”
