The cold November night air feels good after being cooped up inside that warm, smoky warehouse for the past three hours.
“Are you all right to walk?” I ask Camryn, walking alongside her with my arm firmly around her waist.
She lays her head on me and buries her hands inside her coat sleeves.
“I’m good,” she says. “You cut me off at the right hour this time, so you don’t have to worry about carrying me the rest of the way like you did that night back in New Orleans.” I feel her head shift to gaze up at me, and I glance down at her briefly, trying also to watch our steps along the dark sidewalk. “You remember that night, don’t you?”
“Of course I remember.” I squeeze my arm tighter around her waist. “It wasn’t that long ago and besides, even if it was, I could never forget that night, or any night with you, for that matter.”
She smiles up at me and then watches out ahead, too.
“You’re very unforgettable,” I add, grinning at her briefly.
“I woke up once that night,” she says, burrowing her head into the warmth of my arm. “I saw the toilet on one side of me and wondered how I got there. Then I felt your body behind me, your arm over my waist, and I didn’t want to get up. Not because I was still half drunk and my head felt like it had been run through a shredder, but because you were with me.”
“Yeah, I remember…” I lose myself in that memory for a moment.
We walk huddled together through the cold for ten minutes until we make it to the gas station where the car is parked in an abandoned lot nearby. I turn the heat on full blast and drive the chick car back to Camryn’s mom’s house, wishing we had just stayed in a hotel all this time when we pull into the driveway and I see her mom’s car parked out front. I like Nancy, but I also like being able to walk around the house in my boxers, or naked, without worrying about an audience.
I help Camryn out of the car and take her inside, my arm still around her waist just in case any of the liquor hasn’t caught up to her yet. But she’s fine. Buzzed pretty good, but fine. I lock the door behind us, and Camryn immediately slips out of her coat and tosses it on the coat rack in the corner of the foyer. I do the same.
The house is dead quiet, and the only lights are the dim orange glow from the nightlight plugged in the nearby hallway and the one over the kitchen counter, illuminating the bar.
Camryn surprises me when her hands slither up my chest and she presses hard with her fingers on my abs, pushing me against the foyer wall. She slips her tongue into my mouth and I bite gently down on it and her bottom lip before I kiss her. Her right hand moves down to the button on my jeans and she pops it right out with ease, sliding the zipper down afterward. I kiss her harder and groan against her mouth when she slides her hand into my boxers and grabs me.
God, it’s been so fucking long…
She presses harder against me, shoving my back against the wall.
I break the kiss just for seconds long enough to get out, “I want you so fucking bad, but let’s at least get to your room first.”
Her kiss turns more ravenous and then she says with her lips still on mine, “My mom’s not here.” She bites down hard on my lip, enough to make it sting, but it drives me absolutely mad for her. “She took Roger’s car to work tonight.”
I crush my mouth against hers and lift her into my arms to carry her through the hallway toward her room. We can’t get there fast enough, and she’s already got my shirt off before I carry her through the door and throw her back against the mattress. I strip the rest of her clothes off, leaving just her panties. She sits up on the edge of the bed and takes my jeans and boxers down the rest of the way. I crawl on top of her, holding the weight of my body up with one fist ground into the mattress on her side while I tease her with the other hand, rubbing my finger between her wet lips over the fabric of her panties. She squirms beneath me, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back on the mattress so that her breasts rise a little higher in front of me.
I move off the bed and slip her panties off with my middle fingers. I kiss her inner thighs and can’t stop myself from falling in between her legs so fast because I haven’t been able to do this for her in what feels like forever. I don’t tease her anymore. I don’t because I’m making myself crazy in the process.
I lick her furiously, and she tries to crawl her way across the bed and away from my mouth. She grips the sheets above her head until her head is hanging off the bed on the other side. I hold her firmly in place with my hands around her thighs, my fingers digging into her skin. I suck on her clit even harder until she can’t stand it anymore and her thighs try to close around my head.
I can tell she’s about to come when suddenly she grips my hair and forces my mouth away.
I look across the smooth geography of her body from between her legs to see her gazing down at me. She works her fingers through my hair. I wait, wondering what she’s thinking, wondering why she made me stop.
It’s like she’s waiting for something, but I’m not sure what. All I can think about right now is forcing myself on her. It takes everyfuckingthing in me to hold back, to keep from rolling her over and forcing her on her hands and knees, from gripping her hair so hard that it hurts her, from…
She cocks her head to one side and watches me, studies me as if she’s contemplating my next move. I’m mesmerized by her face. There’s something enigmatic and frail in it that I’ve never seen before. Then she guides me up away from the edge of the bed and on instinct I lay down on my back. She crawls across my body, kissing my stomach and my ribs and my chest as she makes her way up, positioning herself on top of me. A low moan rumbles uncontrolled through my chest just feeling the warmth and wetness of her. She smiles down at me, sweet, innocent, though I know it’s anything but. And then takes me into her hand, and I feel my eyes roll into the back of my fucking head when she places me inside of her and slides down on me so slowly that it’s torturous.
I let her fuck me for as long as she wants, but it takes everything in me to keep from getting off before she does. And in that last second, something happens that I never anticipated, and I’m panicking inside, hoping she doesn’t sense it when I have to make that vital split-second decision whether to pull out of her or not.
11
I thought I’d have a much worse hangover than I do this morning. Last night was the first time I’ve had a drink in months, but I’m not complaining. I roll over on my side, and when I see the clock next to my face reading an hour and a half past the time Andrew was supposed to be at the airport, my eyes pop open and I shoot upright on the bed.
“Andrew!” I say, shaking him awake.
He groans and rolls over, barely opening his eyes a crack. He reaches out his arm and tries to bury me underneath it so he can go back to sleep, but I push it away.
“Get up. Missed your plane.”
The only part of his body that moves are his eyes popping open much like mine did, and when reality sinks in, the rest of his body follows suit.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He gets out of the bed and stands in the center of the room, naked.
I never get tired of looking at him—naked or clothed, it doesn’t matter. How I ended up with him still defies my comprehension to this day. He raises both hands to his face and runs them over the top of his hair, resting them on the back of his head, his arms hardened with well-defined muscles. And then a long, defeated sigh deflates his chest.