Page 69 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
“Well, now I have to know what you were thinking about,” she teases.
My cheeks warm even more. “Uh, well, there were a handful of nights when we were younger when I was super stressed, and maybe a little drunk, and begged River to let me sleep in the bed with him. Just so I wouldn’t feel so alone.”
She smiles, her fingertips brushing against my heated cheek in a soothing caress. “He’s your best friend and your packmate. I don’t think wanting comfort from him means you were a mess.”
She searches my face again, her mouth opening and then closing again.
“What?” I ask, brow furrowing.
Camille shakes her head. “Nothing. Only wondering if you’ve had anyone to have quality snuggles with outside of work since River met Ambrose.”
“We weren’tsnuggling,” I protest feebly. The memory of waking up with my head tucked against River’s shoulder flashes in my mind. “But no, once they started dating, I’ve stayed in my own bed. I don’t need to intrude on what my best friend and Daddy get up to.”
I use the word to tease Camille and try to shift the subject, but instead of blushing and getting flustered, she laughs. “It sounds good when you call him that.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. It’s hot. And I know you’re saying it jokingly, but it feels… Okay, please tell me to shut the fuck up if I’m wrong, but it feels right for you to say it, too.” Her cheeks tinge pink, and she shakes her head. “Crap, sorry, I know that’s weird. I know you’re not?—”
A squirmy, hot sensation that I’ve felt but haven’t been able to understand, or maybe refused to understand, builds as she speaks. Her apology is what has me blurting out words before considering them. Before convincing myself that they’re not true, because I’m not…
“It feels right to me, too.”
Wait, itdoes?
Camille’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”
I could take it back. Ishouldtake it back. It’s way too weird of a thing to admit.
I nod mutely, mind racing.
Camille strokes my cheek again and smiles. “It makes sense. You like letting go of control sometimes, when it’s safe. Ambrose is the walking definition of safety and comfort.”
“He is…” All the times he’s been there for me over the past few months bubble up inside me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Our connection has deepened. Changed. “Yeah, he is.”
“Plus, we both know you’re a total whore for praise,” she adds with a teasing smirk.
I laugh. “You’re one to talk, Ms. ‘I gush slick whenever I’m called a good girl’.”
She giggles, eyes sparkling with a hint of heat. My cock ishard and needy against my thigh. Hard because we’re talking about how I enjoy…
“I’m not gay.”
Camille blinks at me. “Okay.”
It’s not the kind of ‘okay’ that’s dismissive or skeptical. It’s completely neutral.
I swallow hard anyway, feeling like I’m under an interrogation spotlight. Not from Camille, but from myself.
When I don’t speak again, Camille fills the silence. “Your liking calling Ambrose ‘Daddy’ doesn’t mean you have to do anything sexual with him. Or even that you want to. It can mean as little or as much as you want it to. I promise I’ll never mention it again if you don’t want me to.”
I consider her words, my mind buzzing. Do I like calling him Daddy because I enjoy the power dynamic? Or is it more? Do I wanthim?
My dick throbs with a resounding, mind-bending,yes, dumbass.
“I’ve never wanted to be with a guy like that.”
Again, the memory of waking up in River’s bed with my head against him comes to mind, but this time I remember how hard my dick was. I chalked it up to morning wood, not River’s steady presence and rich scent.
