Cam
Her face tells me enough—shock and horror.
The little Jackson brother declaring his feelings.
Fucking stupid.
Fucking—
One second, I’m cupping her cheek, her body close and tempting, filled with so much longing that it’s eating me up inside.
And the next…
She’s shifting, plastering her body against mine, lifting on tiptoe and wrapping a leg around my waist.
“Wh—”
Her mouth hits mine.
For a blip, I’m frozen in surprise, my mind trying to process with what the actual fuck is going on. Then I realize that it doesn’t really matter. Because Athena’s kissing me and I’m just standing here, squandering the moment.
That, more than anything, spurs me into action.
Seize the moment.
Take what I can before it’s gone.
I step forward, pinning her between my body and the wall, slipping a hand beneath her other leg and hefting her up, coaxing her to wrap it around my waist. She does and we both groan at the contact—my dick, hard and ready, pressed against the softness between her thighs.
“Jesus,” she moans, breaking the kiss, “but you’ve got a big cock, Cam.”
All the blood rushes from my head to…well, to my other head.
“And you’ve got a dirty mouth,” I growl, cupping her chin, turning her face back to mine.
“Yeah. So?”
I lean a little closer. “So, let me taste it again.”
I don’t wait for her to respond, just lower my mouth to hers, taking advantage of her parted lips to slip my tongue inside, to taste her fully. Her moan rumbles up the back of her throat, dances over into my mouth, and she arches against me, riding the hard edge of my cock and making feel like I’m a teenager about to come in my pants.
Christ, that’s good.
I press her against the wall, drag my hand up along her side, desperate to feel her bare skin beneath my T-shirt, desperate to have her naked.
And she makes it clear she feels the same, hands scrabbling at my clothes, fingers grasping the hem of my tee and yanking it up.
Yeah, this isn’t working for me.
I need horizontal.
I need naked.
I need Athena.
Spinning us, I stride to the counter, plunking her onto the edge and reaching for her shirt, but our hands tangle as she reaches for mine at the same time.
She swats at me. “Stop it.”
“I’m trying to get you naked,” I growl.
“I’m trying to get you naked,” she counters.
“I think we’ll both like you naked more.” Oh the things I’ve dreamed about doing to her. The things I’m going to do to her.
“That’s debatable,” she grumbles but lifts her arms, allows me to tug her shirt up and over her head. “Especially since I’ve seen you naked.”
She’s not wearing a bra and the sight of her glorious tits bouncing, her pink-tipped nipples hardening beneath my gaze, means that it takes me a minute to process what she’s just said. “When have you seen me naked?”
“Yes—” She hisses out a breath as I settle my hands on her waist and start slowly dragging them up along her sides, tracing them forward over the smooth skin of her abdomen. “—terday.”
“When?”
“When I woke you up.”
“When you tried to drown me, you mean,” I tease, sliding them a little higher, drifting them in a little closer. Six inches from the motherland. Two. One. A half.
“I was not—” Her breath hitches when I allow my hands to shift higher, to cup her breasts. “I wasn’t trying to drown you,” she groans, grabbing my wrists and pressing my hands to her, placing her palms on my fingers, coaxing me to squeeze her tits.
Okay, fine. She doesn’t have to coax much.
I’m already massaging those lush curves, feeling the hardened bud of her nipples on my palm, listening to the soft inhales of her breath. “No?” I ask, barely able to hold the thread of conversation. “Sure felt like it.”
“It’s not my fault”—I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, revel in the soft moan that escapes her lips—“that I’m a heavy sleeper.”
“It sure—oh God!—fucking is.”
My lips twitch as I pinch a little harder. “Is not.”
Hot brown eyes on mine. “Is—” I lean down and suck one of those pink buds into my mouth. “To,” she finishes on a hiss.
The fact that we’re arguing while I’m actively touching—finally touching—this gorgeous woman’s body isn’t lost on me, but I can’t seem to stop.
Same as I can’t stop myself from whispering, “Is not,” just before I close my lips around that sensitive bud and suck.
“Is—” She groans, her head falling back against the cabinets. “To.”
“Is—” But then she shocks the shit out of me because she’s suddenly shoving me backward, dropping to her knees in front of me, and—
“Oh fuck,” I groan, my knees going week. It takes every bit of focus to keep them locked so I don’t collapse and take her down alongside me. “Ats. Oh fuck.”
Her tongue is…fucking sin personified, and the hint of teeth makes me shiver and groan again when she runs them along my shaft, taking me deep, so deep that I bump the back of her throat. Then she starts working me with her hand, and the tight grip, the suction, the lips and teeth and tongue—
Right.
This isn’t going to work for me.
I mean, it’s working.
Just too well, and this is Athena. My Athena. Fuck if I’m going to let her give me all the pleasure.
Reaching down, I hook my hands under her armpits and tug, pulling her off my cock with a soft pop.
“Hey!” she protests, reaching for me again.
But I’ve got some moves of my own and I execute them quickly, reaching for the hem of her stolen sweats, pushing them down, exposing—
“Fuck,” I grit out.
“What?” she whispers.
“You’re gorgeous everywhere.”
Half of her mouth quirks up. “And this is a problem?”
“It’s a problem for my self-control,” I grumble.
“Well, considering I don’t want you in control,” she murmurs, stroking a hand down my chest, cupping my dick again, “I don’t see how that’s a problem.”
I snag her wrist, press a kiss to her palm.
Tempting.
Fucking tempting to completely let go and fuck her like an animal.
But…this is Athena.
I’ve dreamed about being with her, tasting her, touching her, kissing her, fucking her for near on a decade.
I don’t know if I’ll get another chance, don’t know if those icy walls will snap down again and try to close me out. So…I need to take my time, to worship her like she deserves.
And if those walls do close?
Well, fuck the ice. I’m breaking out my chisel. Or blowtorch.
Or fucking flamethrower.
Because this woman, who I’ve loved for years, is going to be mine.
I inhale, grasp tight to my control, and I move.
Lifting her up onto the counter again, kissing her deeply, tasting her squeak on my tongue, presumably from the cold counter—or maybe because I’ve snaked my hand down, slipped it between her legs and stroked through the slick folds of her pussy.
I don’t stop though, especially when she parts her thighs and gives me better access.
Fuck yes.
I break the kiss, drag my lips along her jaw, down her throat, nipping at the sensitive spot that makes her shiver.
Then I keep going, kissing at the tops of her breasts, closing my lips around one taut nipple and sucking.
Her hands dive into my hair and clench tight, sending pain rippling across my scalp. It doesn’t bother me, though. If anything, that red haze of pain wraps its fingers around my cock and strokes furiously, sending me even closer to the edge, closer to the point of no return.
But I just keep moving down, keep focusing on Athena.
On her soft skin. On her slick pussy as I kiss my way down her belly and position myself between her thighs. On that tight grip of my hair and the soft curve of her hips. On her moans in my ears and her scent in my nose…
And her taste on my tongue.
“Cam,” she cries, her grip on my hair not loosening, her hips bucking, her head falling back to hit against the cabinets again.
Yeah, that’s not going to work for me either.