Page 12 of The Loneliest Number (The Thirst Trap #3)

Chapter eleven

Abby

S team rises from the mountain of lavender-scented bubbles. I could get used to this.

I really don’t know what came over me. Two orgasms, and I was done.

That’s really not like me. And I’m annoyed at myself that exhaustion seemed to take over.

That must be what it is. It can’t possibly be that I’m so comfortable with Cam that all I wanted to do was snuggle and doze off.

The poor guy hasn’t even come yet and while his cock isn’t as rock solid as it was earlier, it’s still making itself known, poking into my back as I lay on top of him in the bath.

I’m usually all about making sure everyone gets some before we’re done, but I guess it was a busy shift at work earlier.

His suggestion that we chill for a moment seemed to trigger my competitiveness, and now I’m ready to go again.

I shimmy down a bit, giving me space to roll onto my knees and face him.

His head is thrown back on the edge of the bath, and his eyes are closed.

He looks relaxed. But then one eye peels open with a quirked brow.

“What are you up to, menace?”

“I just realised that you’re lagging behind, and that doesn’t seem fair.

” I reach for his cock, pleased when it hardens in my fist. He lets out a low moan that has arousal curling inside me.

That little cat nap and the soak must have helped me rest enough because I’m now more than ready to go again.

I stroke his shaft up and down, enjoying having this giant of a man completely at my mercy. I want to bend down and flick my tongue across the tip of his cock, but the water is too deep, and I’d rather not drown.

Instead, I use both hands to grip him tight, savouring the whimper he gives.

“Fuck, Abby.” I don’t know what came over me when I shared my real name.

I didn’t make the decision to do it. It just slipped out in a moment of madness that I followed up with the suggestion that I wanted to hear him say it when he came.

But hearing it on his lips now, I know it was the right thing to do.

My name has never sounded so sexy as when it’s said in his hot accent and gruff tone. And I needed to give him more of me.

I use both hands to pump his shaft before reaching down to stroke and softly tug on his balls. Every noise he gives is like a reward, and I’m eager to unravel him like he did me. No, make that more.

His hand comes up to stroke my hair. I want to reach over and plant a kiss on his lips, but the awkward angle of my position makes it impossible.

His pupils are blown wide as he takes in the sight of me.

I rely on those delicious moans and whimpers he makes, easing off every time he gets more feral.

After doing that a third time, he roars out a moan and grips my shoulders, dragging me onto his rapidly rising chest. His fierce chestnut eyes meet mine with such an intensity that I’m ready to do anything he wants.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps as he lifts me and steps out of the bath.

He reaches for a big, fluffy white towel and wraps it around my shoulders while using another to pat himself dry.

His impatience brings a grin to my face.

He discards his own towel and then focuses his attention on me, drying me off in the same brisk manner before pulling me through to the bedroom.

He tugs me over to the floor-to-ceiling length window, pushing my naked body against the glass. The cold surface after the warmth of the bath brings out a gasp.

“Stay,” he says and takes a step back. There’s a crinkle of foil as he swipes up a condom packet and tears it open.

“I’m not a dog,” I tell him with an eye roll.

“I just want to look at you for a moment,” he replies with a huff.

I ease back slightly so I can watch his reflection in the window. His cock is in his palm and he gives it a few long strokes before rolling the condom on. I place my hands on the glass and push my hips back to present myself to him. It’s impossible to resist wiggling my bum.

“Fuck me, Cam,” I tell him. Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait any longer. He palms my pussy, sinking a finger inside me. I squirm, eager for his cock to fill me up.

“Hmmm, so wet. Fuck, Abby.” He hums in my ear as he removes his hand and replaces it with his cock.

One push and my eager pussy takes his whole length.

I let out a long moan at the sensation of being completely filled.

My eyes may be open, but I can’t focus on anything apart from how good it feels.

Lights twinkle across the dark city and a thrill works its way through me when I picture how I must look being pinned against this window and fucked.

Thankfully, we’re on a high enough floor that we won’t get in trouble.

His thrusts are steady, working me up to yet another release much quicker than I would have thought possible.

“That’s it, love, take my cock. Squeeze it with that delicious cunt.

Milk me dry,” he rasps in my ear. Fuck me.

I let out a giggle as I realise that’s exactly what he is doing right now.

His hand comes round and slaps at my mound as he grinds his shaft deep inside me.

My walls clench around him and I lose it when his finger brushes against my clit repeatedly and in time with his thrusts.

“Oh, fuck.” It’s me whimpering now, and I let everything go, drowning in another wave of incredible pleasure.

“Take my cum, take it all.” His thrusts come in a frenzy now, and he bites down on my shoulder with a prolonged groan as his hips give one last, deep thrust and he fills the condom.

I wish he was naked; I want to feel him dripping out of me all night.

This Scotsman seems to have brought out a breeding kink I didn’t know I had. What is he doing to me?

We both stay there, panting for a moment.

I’m on a high. I love being on display like this. It elevates the pleasure tenfold, and this man knows how to play my body like an instrument. My pussy gives his length a final squeeze as he pulls out from me before removing the condom with a tissue.

“Okay?” he asks, kissing the place on my shoulder that’s probably marked from his bite.

“So much more than okay,” I say, panting as I turn round to face him. A sense of pride bubbles up at the look of bliss on his face, and I wonder when I’ll get to see it next. His hand comes up to my cheek, and he brushes his thumb across my lips.

“Stay,” he repeats his earlier command, but the tone is different. This one feels like a plea.

I glance over at the big, comfy bed. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? If I’m lucky, I might get more orgasms, and even if all we do is sleep, at least I’ll sleep well within those luxurious cotton sheets.

I don’t want to leave. I want to stay. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I can do what I want.

“Okay,” I say with a shrug.

I’m disorientated the next morning when I wake up, draped all over Cam.

We never did get around to closing the curtains, and light pours into the room.

“Morning,” comes his greeting, and I blink, realising he’s awake too.

I lift my chin, and he gives me a satisfied smile as he squeezes me close with the arm that’s wrapped around me. “I’m glad you stayed.”

I am too, I realise. I’m not used to waking up in someone else’s bed, usually choosing to head back to my place once the fun and games are done. But this is a hotel room, so maybe that’s why it feels different.

“What’s the time?” I ask.

“The back of seven.”

“What does that mean?” I say as I sit up, stretching my arms out. There’s a delicious ache between my thighs. A sign of an evening well spent.

“Just after seven am. I need to head off in a bit. I’ve got a breakfast meeting. But you can stay as long as you like. There’s no rush to get up.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll leave with you,” I tell him as I crawl across the wide bed.

I grimace as I realise I was well and truly on ‘his side’ even with the ginormous size.

I glance around and locate my clothes, gathering them up before heading to the bathroom.

I can shower at my place, so I do my business, then run my fingers through my hair and splash some water on my face before getting dressed.

I step out of the bathroom, and Cam’s still laid out on the bed, the sheet pulled up over his hips. He watches me with a smirk as I walk back towards him.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about before you leave,” he says, patting the bed for me to sit.

“That sounds ominous.” My face pulls in a grimace as I perch a hip on the edge, facing him.

“It’s not. I just really appreciate you sharing your name with me last night.”

I struggle to meet his gaze as a blush creeps up my cheeks. I have done filthy things with this man, and yet, it’s the openness and intimacy that have me embarrassed. Am I broken?

“I want to be open with you, too. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you yesterday.

I’m still getting used to it, I guess. It’s a massive project, and it just came out of the blue.

” He trails off as he twists the sheet in his hands, eyes down, but they come up to meet mine before he carries on, “I own The Juniper. She’s mine. ”

“Oh.” A weight drops low in my stomach, goosebumps break out on my forearms, and I try to swipe them away with my hands.

Somehow, I’d reconciled the fact that he was working there.

It gave me an in to be nosy about this building I’ve fallen for and to keep track of progress.

Ownership means something else completely; it threatens my home at The Thirst Trap.

“I thought you were a stonemason?” I speak in a quiet tone, even though my blood is thundering.

He rubs a hand across his bearded jaw. “I’m trained as a stonemason. My grandpa trained me. But it’s more of a side interest these days. My main focus is project managing renovations of buildings like The Juniper.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“A few times, mostly up in Glasgow. And usually for other people. This is the first building I’ve solely owned. And it’s really fucking scary.” He grimaces.

“What do you mean, scary?” I ask. “And why here? Why The Juniper?”

“I inherited it from my grandmother and I’m feeling the pressure to not fuck this up.

I didn’t know of its existence until recently.

It was a few weeks after we first met actually.

” A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Strange coincidence, right? My grandmother owned a building that no-one in the family knew about. And it’s something of a mystery how she came by it.

Then she bequeathed it to me. And it brings me practically to your doorstop. ”

I snort. “What? Like fate?”

“I don’t know. I was just so taken with seeing you again, and you were still a mystery to me. There’s been a lot of mysteries in my life lately.” His brows knit together in a fierce frown.

“So you were holding back because I was holding out on you?”

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Not as a conscious decision, but maybe, yeah. I knew nothing about you, other than the amazing chemistry we had that night in Glasgow with Saff.”

Where the fuck do I go from here? I wasn’t completely open with him, withholding my real name until it spilled out last night, so it would be hypocritical of me to judge him for holding something back. But spending time with him feels like a betrayal to Tom and everyone else at The Thirst Trap.

“I need to head off,” I tell him. I need space to think about it.

“That’s it? Are we okay?”

“It’s fine, Cam. We had a fun night. In Glasgow and again last night. We don’t owe each other anything, and you said you’ve got a meeting to get to.” I keep my tone breezy, trying to ignore the look of hurt clouding his eyes.

“When can I see you again?” he asks.

I pause, unsure how to answer. I’m not usually one for repeats. Yes, we did have a lot of fun, but my loyalty to Tom and the bar has to come first, right?

“Text me when you need to get laid and I’ll think about it.” That’ll give me a chance to get my head around it all.

“That’s going to be tonight.” His tone is matter-of-fact as if his wanting me is a foregone conclusion.

“I don’t do the regular thing. You might need to find yourself someone steadier.” I stand and slip my hand into my pockets, rocking back on my heels.

“Fuck that. I don’t want steady. I want to fuck you until you can’t stand up.” He slides out from the sheets, padding around the bed to stand, stark naked, in front of me. My eyes are drawn to his thick thighs and the forest tattoos inked there. “So, same time tonight?”

“I can’t do tonight. Maybe next week.” I can’t look him in the eye–if I do, he might convince me. I need to step back and work out exactly what’s happening here and what I want to happen.

His sigh is heavy. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Don’t deny yourself pleasure because you don’t do commitment. We can find our own way of making this work.” His hand gestures between our bodies.

“I need to think about it.” Perhaps we can do the casual thing on the regular, or perhaps I should never see him again. I don’t want that. I have to see him again.

“Don’t take too long,” he says gruffly before adding, “text me.” He gathers me up in his arms, lifting me off my feet as he squeezes me. He lowers me, placing a kiss on my forehead, and pats me on the bum.

“Make sure you eat, Abby.” His tone is brusque, which seems to have a direct link to my eyes rolling.

“Will do. I’ll maybe catch you later,” I say, heading out of the suite and towards my place. I just have to hope that the distance will help me overcome this confusion. I want to see him again, but should I?