Page 35

And that’s when it hits me. My brilliant, terrible plan.
If I’m going to remind Jaxon I’m better than any other girl, I need to give him what he loves.
His dick sucked.
All guys love this. Don’t tell me otherwise. If your mascara isn’t running and you haven’t choked on him or your own spit, girl, you’re not doing it right.
I turn to face him, resting my hands on his chest. His confusion melts into understanding as I sink to my knees. The shower hits my back, but I barely notice. I’m too focused on the way his breath catches, the way his hands twitch.
Looking up through wet lashes, I give him that innocent-but-not look. “Is this what you want?”
“Fuck, Cam.” His hands cradle my face like I’m precious. “You’re so sexy. I…” The words die as I take him in my mouth.
Wait. What was he going to say?
The thought evaporates as he moans, fingers tangling in my hair. He doesn’t continue. Probably because he’s too busy moaning.
I’ve only been with Jaxon, but just because I’ve only had one person doesn’t mean I suck at giving head. Well, actually, I do. Literally.
I move my left hand to the base of his cock while sucking on the tip, my other hand cradling his balls, squeezing just enough to make him gasp and moan louder.
When I look up again, his eyes are dark with need, but there’s something else there too. Something that makes my chest ache. I swirl my tongue around the tip. “Does it feel good?”
“Oh fuck. It feels so fucking good.” His hips twitch and my lips meet my hand as I take him deeper while jerking him at the same time. “As much as I wanna come in your mouth,” he pauses, yanks me up. “I need to be inside your tight, wet pussy.”
Plan: successful.
His eyes lock onto mine, intense and hungry and maybe a little scared. Like he knows we’re crossing a line.
I nod. “Me too.”
“Wait. Shit.” Panic flashes in his eyes and he looks around. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing his hand before he can retreat. “I’m on the shot. I haven’t been with anyone else.”
He nods, still breathing hard. For a second, I think he’s considering the risk. But he decides quick. “Okay.” And then I think I hear him say—“I… haven’t either.”
My heart stops. Restarts. Stumbles.
You heard that too, right?
I don’t have time to decipher it, because suddenly he has me turned toward the tile, kissing along my shoulders.
His lips brush my skin like he’s mapping territory he never wanted to leave. “I miss you,” he breathes, the words escaping without permission.
Tears sting my eyes, and I’m grateful he can’t see my face. I want to turn, search his expression for answers, but I’m terrified of what I’ll find.
“I need to hear you,” he pants as he slides inside, his hands moving from my hips to my breasts, like he can’t decide where he wants to be. “Gonna come for me?”
I moan as my body stretches to accommodate him, arching back. This—this is what I’d been missing. Not just the sex. Him. Us. The way we fit together.
I lean my head back, and his hand trails from my breast to my throat, squeezing just enough.
Steam rolls around us as I cry out at the force of his thrusts. His hands hold me in place, gasping, groaning, his movements speeding up as his fingers work my clit.
“Jaxon,” I whisper.
“That’s it,” he grunts, grip tightening. Curses spill from his lips, his thrusts getting harder, deeper, like he’s trying to prove something. Or forget something. I have no idea. “Let me hear how much you’ve missed me.”