Page 89 of Charming Like Us

My blood cranks to a detrimental high.

His smile falters, more uncertain. Probably because I’m not saying a thing.

Come on, Oliveira.

I intake a tight breath. “Is that wise? Look, I know what I said, but you’ve never been with a guy before. Maybe we should talk it out first and not after the fact. Basically what we didn’t do last time.”

“I liked last time,” he says confidently, setting the cream aside. “I’m more adventurous than timid, if you haven’t figured that out by now.”

I give the frat broa once-over. “Oh, I have. Trust me.” I let go of the slat above my head. “But I’m probablystrongerthan any woman you’ve ever been with, Highland. The power dynamics are different. Even if I try to be gentle with you, I’m not soft. I’m going to feel rough and hard.”

He bows forward, forearms on his thighs, breath hitched.He’s aroused?His eyes flit over to me, then to the closed cabin door. “I’d do anything to feel you right now, Oscar, and usually, I can flash a smile and get my way but that works only 50% of the time with you. So I’d honestly grovel if that’s what it takes—”

“Don’t grovel,” I cut in and lean in, cupping the back of his head. We breathe hard, and my mouth is a teasing inch from his lips.

His hand skates up my abs in exploration.

“You want to know what I like to do?” I whisper against his mouth.

A jagged groan scrapes his throat. “Yeah,yeah, I want to know.”

I kiss him hard, bringing his chest against my chest, and I lift him up on the bunkbed further and bear my body down on his athletic build. His shoulders and back press into the flimsy mattress. I barely break the passionate, sweltering kiss, and his lips split apart to curse out a pleasured, “Jesus fuck.” His hands fly to his head.

He keeps doing that.

It’s actually really fucking cute.

I grind into him and clasp his thigh, stretching his leg around my hip. Jack clutches my bicep, his eyes open as he drinks in our bodies and the friction. He hardens against me, and blood boils down south.

I kiss him again. And again. His fingers grip my hair, and our foreheads press together. Hot, electric breath sparking between us.

Jack chokes out between breaths, “You prefer it rough?”

I try not to laugh. “You think this is rough?”

He puts a hand on my abs, telling me to take a pause. I do.

I hover over him, palms on either side of his head. My lips stinging.Camp4Ever!is written in green sharpie on the bunk’s wooden post.

Jack struggles to catch his breath. “What was that to you then”—he pants—“if it wasn’t rough?”

I skimhimfor answers and to ensure he’s okay. “Did you enjoy it?”

His smile bursts forth. “Yeah.” He wets his lips. “I definitely did.”

I’m grinning. “I’d call that me being more aggressive, not necessarily rough. I’m not yanking your hair, Long Beach. I’m just in control.”

His eyes sink into me. “You like to top?”

I lean closer and whisper against his ear, “What happened to letting my body show you?”

His body flexes, practically arching up into me. “Fuck.” He reaches down and palms his shaft, still constricted behind boxer-briefs. “You’re killing me, Os.”

Os?

I sit up off Jack in a jolt.

He has another hand on his head, face frozen in too many emotions. “I, uh…sorry.” He straightens up too, breath knotted. “It just came out.” He tries to smile. “You don’t like nicknames?”