Halfway Gone (Camren)

Chapter 7: I Think You Know

Word for this Chapter:

Passion

A strong feeling of enthusiasm or excitement for something or about doing something.

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Camila's POV

I walk into her bathroom, still dripping wet.

I quickly pull my out phone and message Roy with an "I'm okay, see you in the stadium tomorrow", just to keep him in the loop.

I take off the drenched clothes I have on, down to my bra and underwear. That's when I inspect the hoodie Lauren lended me, it was embroided with what looked like boxing tounament dates and her last name on the back. I place both my hands on the bench and look into the mirror in front of me, and I can't help but imagine her arms wrapping around my chest and neck, with her lips against my earlobe, whispering her wild intentions. Just thinking of this made me hot and flustered. I take out the hairtie in my hair and let my curly hair be free.

I hear what sounded like something pressing up against the side of the door, so I poke my head out the door to see her standing there with a towel in her hands. She smiled, fighting every urge to look down at my chest. How polite. Little did she know, I wanted her to look at me, rather touch me all over...

"Sorry, I was going to-umm leave this here, I'll let you have your privacy" She quickly spoke while looking away, and before I could stop her, she scurried off into the living room, out of my sight.

I giggle to myself, then start the water and let it crash into my skin. I see the shampoo and conditioner she uses, flavoured coconut and rum. It smells exactly like her. I lather it up and rinse out my now fabulously smelling hair.

Feeling refreshed I step out into the kitchen area with my tight white singlet and my plaid flannel pants I wear as pyjamas. I catch a whiff of an exotic smell, and I let my body float toward this aroma. Letting my chin rest on her shoulder, I overlook the stovepan to see several different pans sizzling what looked to be heaven.

"I didn't know you were a chef, what else don't I know about you?"

She chuckled, and it made me smile, "I guess you still have a lot to learn about me then."

I think, then reply with, "I want to know everything about you, even your majestic abilities on how to make whatever it is your making."

She whips into character, which always seemed to have a british accent, "As you wish madam, right now I'm stirring this homemade sauce with riches of tomato and hints of red pepper flakes, kosher salt and a bunch of other ingredients I cannot recall when you are touching me like that..."

I was unaware that my hands had completely wrapped around her stomach.

I continue with my best impression of a british accent, "Well you see, I cannot fathom the thought of not touching you, Lauren Jauregui." I chuckle, knowing the wonders that would do to her mind.

Yet she remained confidently steady, and fired back, "Well if you're going to touch me, make it more pleasurable"

My eyes nearly bulged out of head, and I continue with the accent, "My Oh My Lauren, how naughty you are!"

She quickly turned in my direction, smiling mischievously, "I meant giving me a massage, madam." tapping on her shoulders.

I let out an "Oh...sure, sure." and we both chuckle at the subtle joke, both knowing what we truly want.