“Take off your clothes. Lie on the bed.” She felt his voice almost like a physical touch.
As if her hands weren’t a part of her own body, her fingers tugged the hem of her turtleneck from her waistband. As she pulled it up, her blunt nails brushed across her abdomen and her breasts in the thin bra, abraded her nipples. They sprang to life. With their beading came a gentle rush of moisture between her legs.
Her slacks went the way of her turtleneck, thrown across the room. Then her panties. She crawled beneath the covers of her twin-size bed and pulled them to her chin. Outside the window, the little buzzard mewled amongst the branches.
Max closed her eyes. As long as she kept them closed, as long as she concentrated, she could feel Cameron, actually experience his touch. She stretched, intensifying the need humming in her center. Drawing one leg up, she let it fall to the side, opening herself to Cameron, opening her mind to his.
She felt the brush of his tongue against one nipple, a slight pinch on the other.
“Oh, baby, you taste so good.”
She arched her back, moaned, and held his head against her breast while he sucked. The sensation shot all the way down to her clitoris. Then he was there, right where she needed him, entering her with two fingers.
“God, I love it when you get so wet for me.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb against the sensitive button.
Her hips moved into the touch. She bit her lip and rotated to increase the pressure.
“That’s it, sweetheart. I want you to come.”
“Not yet,” she murmured, then thrashed her head on the pillow. “I want you inside me.”
“First, I want to taste you.”
The brush of flesh on flesh started with the tips of her breasts then continued down the length of her arms, moved to graze her belly, then finally the thatch of hair between her legs. His tongue, moist and warm, glided over her, parting her, seeking the burgeoning clitoris. He sucked, drew back for a quick swipe, delved for deep penetration, then returned to lave her with her own wetness. Parting her legs, she reached to hold him close against her. She ran her fingertips around the shell of his ears, glided over the thinning hair at the back of his head, then raised herself to knead his shoulders.
Smooth skin met her touch. The slight tang of a recently smoked cigarette tickled her nose, underlined with a musk that was uniquely Cameron.
Orgasm tingled just on the horizon.
“Now, Cameron. Please, now. I want to come with you inside me.”
He grabbed her hips with hard, bruising fingers and entered her with a deep thrust. The bed creaked and rocked beneath them as he pumped. She buried her nose against the rough hair of his chest, felt it scrape her cheeks as she turned to the side to snag a breath.
“God. Oh my God.” Tension built inside her, leaked from her mouth in a low moan. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight as his body pelted her, the ridge of his pelvic bone rasping against her clitoris. His groan filled her ears, as did his words.
“God, I love you, Max. I’ll always love you. No matter what.”
Letting go of him, she reached above her head and clung to the wooden slats of the headboard. Clutching with a near frantic grip, she arched, grinding against him to increase the pressure on her clit.
“Please, please, please.”
Then orgasm rolled over her, starting at the point their bodies joined and rushing out to the tips of her fingers, her toes, and the crown of her head.
She screamed. Someone pounded on the ceiling beneath her. She didn’t care. She let herself come until she was nothing more than a boneless puddle in the center of the bed.
She lay there until she could breathe again, until she smelled the faintly acrid scent of his freshly lit cigarette.
“Was that good for you, baby?” he whispered into the complete darkness behind her closed lids.
“Yes.”
It was. But she was afraid to open her eyes. Once she did, his touch would be gone. God, what she wouldn’t give to hold him in her arms with her eyes wide open.
She felt the nuzzle of his nose against her ear.
“As good as the Dodge Ram?”
“Better,” she lied. She had to, because to tell him the truth, that she still felt hollow inside, wasn’t acceptable.
Not that he couldn’t read her mind and see through the lie.
Worse than that, she had to pee. Could she make it to the bathroom with her eyes closed? She lay in the bed as long as she could, drinking in the deep sigh of his breath against her throat, his weight on top of her. Don’t open your eyes. Don’t let him go.
Then she had to move. She pushed the covers aside.
“I love you, baby.” They both knew what would happen when she opened her eyes. Cameron would fade back into a phosphorescent glow.