His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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........................................
NOAH
Cam's warm fingers slip beneath the waistband and wrap around my painfully hard, throbbing cock. A shockwave of heat ripples through me, destroying me, ripping the breath from my lungs.
On the first stroke of her hand, I shudder.
This isn't happening.
No, it is. It's happening.
Her hand squeezes just enough to get my teeth clenching. I can see a hint of pink on her cheeks, a blush. So pretty. So fucking pretty. I'm going to come embarrassingly fast if she keeps looking at me like that.
"You're big," she whispers, her hand feeling the length of me. All I can feel is the heat of her touch, the intensity of her stare.
"Camila..." When she pumps me, my eyelids flutter shut, breaths razing through my lips. "Fuck."
She pulls her fist down my cock, dragging a groan from the bottom of my goddamn soul. The callouses on her palms scrap against me in her firm grip. God, that's perfect.
But this is not what's supposed to be happening. Something feels...wrong. But I'm close to abandoning the ability to care.
"Camila," I groan, my voice rough. And it's a warning.
Her movements falter. "Yeah?"
"Stop," I gasp out, my eyes blinking open in a haze. "Stop."
She's gone in a blink, arms wrapped around her torso. And there it is—all the vulnerability and gleaming softness in her eyes that was hiding under a coach's exterior.
I drop my head into my hands, my breaths coming out in ragged pants. Fuck. This wasn't how I envisioned things playing out. This is not right. It was supposed to be bouquets and romance and a kiss if I was lucky.
How the fuck did I abandon slow so haphazardly? I was her first kiss, for Christ's sake. I was thinking with my goddamn dick.
I lift my head, meeting her gaze, blinking away a blur to try and read her. And not for the first time tonight, I can't.
"I'm going to get my stuff. You can wait outside while I lock up."
She's walking out of the steamy room the next second.
Fuck.
I move around the place, lost, trying to gather my stuff, finding a random sweater with the FIRE BASE logo on it to slip on.
I head out the front doors. Outside, the crisp night gnaws at my face and neck. I sit with my back against the front windows in the dark, gripping my hair.
Eventually, Cam emerges, a silhouette fortified by layers—two hoodies now, her armour against the cold. Against me too.
She locks the front door of Fire Base. The click echoes.
