Cameron Taylor is an independent, strong-willed girl who happens to have a knack for violence. After completing her junior year at UCLA, she's not looking forward to spending a Summer at home. Besides having a dark past that she keeps locked away fr...
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If there's an award for walking around with a dick that's harder than granite and acting like it's not affecting you, I definitely deserve it.
The second I saw Cameron step out of her room I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped and my eyes bugged out like a cartoon character. The only reason I was able to compose myself slightly before she could see my reaction was because she was too busy scanning me head to toe to see my face. In any other situation, I would be smug about Cam's reaction to me but I was too damn busy trying to remember how to breathe and get words out.
It's like every time I'm around her, whatever brain cells that haven't been killed by her sharp wit in our arguments jump out of the window and leave me absolutely dumbfounded. Every thought eddies out of my head except for how I can get her naked, protect her, and claim her as mine.
Basically, I turn into a motherfucking caveman.
It's only a matter of time before my restraint snaps and I give in to my impulses. I've held back so far because I don't want to hurt our already fragile relationship and, I'll admit, I'm scared.
I'm fucking terrified of the developing feeling I hold for her because we both know they run deeper than physical attraction. We just choose to ignore them.
Does that make me a coward? Yes
Am I going to keep repressing these feelings for as long as possible? Also, yes.
But the physical need for her is getting too strong to ignore. That fucking dress almost made me come in my pants like a damn preteen, and the only thing I was thinking of when I saw the liquid-like silver material hugging every curve of her body and exposing the smooth skin of her thigh, was that it'd look better in a pool on the floor.
Goddammit, I need to stop thinking of every way I could ruin Cam and focus on the mission. It doesn't help that Cameron is currently on my arm, posing as my date for the night, with her fingers wrapped securely around my bicep.
I subtly adjust my tightening pants as we make our way through the grand doorway to the huge ballroom that's bustling with people. Women in gowns and men in tuxes fill the room, none of them smiling and all of them instead holding faces that promise death if anyone makes one wrong move against them tonight. There are no tables or chairs set up so everyone is forced to stand, some choosing to lean against the walls and scope out the competition and others choosing to mingle and talk business with whoever is willing.
Cam and I slip in unnoticed, blending in with the crowd and walking over to the refreshment table where flutes of champagne flow freely and waitstaff hand them out to more than acceptant guests. I grab a glass and pass it to Cam before taking one for myself and finding a pillar to stand by while we wait for the auction to start.
Neither of us plans on drinking any of the beverage because we're not stupid and know it could be spiked, our possession of it being only for show and to give the illusion that we're comfortable. The pillar behind us also acts as a strategic move, guarding our backs and blocking anyone from sneaking up on us.
