Page 87 of Things We Fake
My nails dug into his back as our bodies moved together, driven by raw, exquisite desire. His name was a breathless moan on my lips as pleasure built higher, tightening like a coil ready to snap.
Cam’s mouth found mine in a desperate kiss, his movements growing rougher, more urgent. My body arched, the wave of pleasure cresting and crashing over me. I shattered around him, his name spilling from my lips as the world disappeared in a haze of white-hot bliss.
A guttural moan tore from his chest as he followed, his body tensing, shuddering in release. He buried his face in my neck, his breath ragged, his arms wrapped tightly around me as if he never wanted to let go.
For a long moment, we just lay there, tangled together, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. His hand found mine, fingers lacing together, holding on to me—tous.
Then he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so my head rested on his chest. His fingers traced light, lazy patterns along my spine, and at some point, hepulled the covers over us. In this warm, exquisite bubble of comfort and happiness, I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
The flood of daylight through the windows was worse than a hammer to my skull. I winced, then my eyes shot open as the vivid recollections of last night hit me. The heated kisses, the way he touched me, the way I completely and utterly lost myself in him with zero inhibitions…
Holy shit!
I slept with my fake fiancé. I had mind-blowing, life-altering, biblical knowledge of the gorgeous man pretending to be my husband-to-be. Twice.
For a few seconds I was afraid to even breathe. I turned my head slightly to look at him. Sweet gelato, he was still here. And still gorgeous. He was lying on his belly, one muscled arm draped across my waist, his face relaxed, peaceful, and devastatingly handsome with that perfect five o’clock shadow.
I needed to get away from him.
Not because I regretted it—hell no, far from it—but because my brain wasn’t equipped to handle this level of emotional whiplash first thing in the morning. I glanced at the wall clock. A few minutes before six. At least I wouldn’t be late for work. That was one disaster I could avoid today.
I carefully lifted his arm from around my waist and started to slip out of bed. But before I could make a full escape, a low, sleep-roughened voice rumbled behind me.
“Going somewhere?”
I froze mid-step, caught like a raccoon with its paws in a trash bin. “Uh. Work. I have work.”
I glanced cautiously over my shoulder. Cam cracked one eye open and smirked. His morning voice was obscenely sexy.
“So that’s how this goes? You use me for my body and then sneak off?”
“I wasn’t sneaking off,” I lied, wrapping the sheet around myself, wildly aware of the fact that I didn’t have the kind of body people write sonnets about. Not in this century. “I just didn’t want to wake you.”
I tried to get up, but he hooked my wrist and pulled me back onto the bed.
My self-consciousness spiked. Now that the fumes of whiskey and hormones had dissipated, I was suddenly very aware of my nakedness.
Cam didn’t seem to share my concern. He flipped onto his back and pulled me on top of him, his warm hands resting on my hips. I swallowed hard, feeling his morning hard-on pressing against my thigh. The man was a sex machine.
“Let’s try this again.” He smiled up at me, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Good morning.”
I couldn’t help smiling back. “Good morning.”
His fingers stroked up and down my spine, making me shiver. “How are you feeling?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. Becausegoodwasn’t strong enough. Andamazingfelt a little too much. Not because it wasn’t true, but because I didn’t want to feed his ego and turn it into a cocky monster just yet.
“Okay,” I said finally. “You?”
His smirk softened into something gentler. “Better than okay.” He studied me for a beat, brushing his thumbs over my hips. “Areweokay?”
I held his gaze, my heart thudding. This was it—the moment when everything could get weird, messy, complicated. But it didn’t. His eyes were clear, full of nothing but warmth. No regret. No smugness. Just Cam, looking at me as though I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I let out a long, measured breath and gave him a lopsided smile. “We’re okay.”
His entire body relaxed beneath me.
