The Cove

Chapter 5: Cameron

I came here with the intent to tell her to stay away from me. I was prepared to do whatever I could to convince her not to be involved with me anymore, but I couldn't.

Now...

Shit.

My head's spinning like a top. I'm hard and pushing against my jeans, and my breath isn't coming like it should. Instead, it's suddenly ragged and uneven like I've run a thousand miles nonstop to be here, right here, with her. My world shifts as I gently shift places with her so that it's my body instead of hers on top. I press myself against her...all of her. The only thing between our legs is our jeans. I can feel—almost even hear—her heart beating, and I imagine she can feel mine racing hers. She's allowing me to run my hands down her body without stopping me or pointing out boundaries, something I've only dreamed about. My hand floats down her face, caressing her lily-soft cheek. The arch of her neck passes beneath my fingertips, and my breath spikes as I go lower and touch the gentle swell of her breast, the curves of her waist, and on down her leg. My erection is almost painful, and I grab her hand and put it against my chest.

"Touch me," I breathe into her mouth, and she groans faintly in response, deepening the kiss.

Her touch is hesitant at first, her fingers shaking as they trace the line of my collarbone and the curve of my shoulders, but then she gets bolder, slipping down to my stomach and under my T-shirt. I feel fire in the paths her hands leave on my abdomen and chest, imagine my heart thumping desperately in my rib cage, fighting to break the bars of its cage. God, I want her so badly.

"What are you thinking about?" she breathes when we break for an air break.

"You," I say with a mischievous grin. Before she can respond, I keep her silent with a light kiss. Damn, I swear I'm getting addicted to them. I ease her mouth open, feel her breath, and taste her tongue. When our breathing turns ragged again, I pull away, my elbows resting on either side of her head, and whisper in her ear, "If I'm pushing you out of your comfort zone, tell me." Truth is, I'm already excited, but the last thing I want to do is push her. We both have enough pressures already.

"You're fine." She hasn't stopped me yet, hasn't pushed me away and said she's had enough for one night. I notice that maybe a little too much, and I subtly rub against her. Cadi grins up at me, but then that little worry wrinkle line comes between those captivating, dark chocolate eyes. She licks her lips and tilts her head.

"What's wrong?" I inquire.

"I...I don't know how to ask you this..."

Shit. "What?" I ask her, urging her to tell me.

She bites her lip and then shakes her head, her hair caressing my fingers. "Never mind."

"Please?"

She looks away, her hands resting against my stomach between our bodies. "I want you. Do you want me?" I'm surprised into silence as Cadi turns her eyes to me, silently pleading help. I know how we usually are when the subject of sex comes up. I'm a guy. I want it, but I've never pressured her to do it and never, until the day I die, would. Cadi shies away from it, which is why we hardly ever talk about it between us, and when it does come up, I steer the conversation quickly away to save us both the embarrassment. This time, though, she brought it up quite clearly. I almost smile. I've fallen asleep many nights in my small bedroom, thinking about her, conjuring up crazy fantasies I would never tell her about. It embarrasses me to even think about them with her right here. Her body...my body...my fantasies I've only lived out in my head...Snap out! Suddenly, the same question is irking my mind.

"What about you?" I ask, not answering her. I purposely make my voice light, but behind it burns real curiosity.

She bites her lip again, unconsciously giving herself away, and I can't help it. I smile and kiss her, and she huffs, embarrassed. I feel her hands move from my stomach, the spot where they were suddenly cold. My fingers wrap around both her wrists as I lean my head down.

"What's the matter?" I say quietly. "You embarrassed about your own feelings?"

Cadi's brow furrows. Is she confused? Angry? "I'm not...embarrassed," she finally says.

"Why the hesitation?" I ask playfully.

"I'm not embarrassed," she says again, more firmly. She licks her lips so invitingly that it brings out a tiny groan from me. I feel a twinge in my crotch, and I bury her mouth with mine. I'm feeling it. Damn it if I'm not feeling it strong, too. Through my closed eyes, I hear her moan. I pull away, suddenly anxious.

"Why'd you leave?" she breathes, and my body relaxes.

"I dunno," I murmur, my hands moving slowly down her arms toward the rest of her as I smile. It's all I can do to keep in control of myself so I just focus on her eyes. Her eyes always keep me fascinated and glued...but then they close. And she pulls my head back down. I feel her touch all over me, growing more assertive and sure. Her fingers run over my shoulder blades, down my arms, across my chest, and down to my stomach. Then, they move to my waist, spreading around my hips. My breath hitches.

"What do you want to do?" I raggedly whisper against her skin.

She doesn't say anything. Her fingers merely trace the waist of my jeans, teasing and enticing. Oh God. I want her badly. I want her...now.

"It's hot," I whisper feverishly. Cadi smiles, and I feel my heart skip a beat. Aw hell, I didn't need that beat anyway.

"Do something about it then," she teases.

I sit up astride her, remove my shirt, and toss it to the floor. Then, I lean back down. The tip of my nose skims the side of her neck, going lower until I reach the barrier of her jacket, which I subtly remove to reveal the pale skin of her shoulder.

"Tell me how this happened," she murmurs, a smile complimenting her face. I remain silent. My mind takes me back to those first few days of knowing her. I had thought she was one of those stuck-up, wealthy kids and hated her as she hated me, but no... She was so much more. Cadi isn't stuck up in any way. She's a person, a person who tries to show everyone else the cheery side even if there isn't one. I'd seen that early on, and it had intrigued me because it was like the game I was playing—putting on a show to live behind.

"I wanted to know what makes you smile and what makes you sad. I wanted to know how to get that smile from you. I wanted you not to hate me anymore," I murmur as I fiddle with the strings of her jacket.

My hand slips the other sleeve of her jacket off her other shoulder.