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Camilla woke up to the sound of snoring.
The sound resonated through the room, but it was soft and almost barely there. Camilla was sure she wouldn't have heard it if the person behind it wasn't pressed against her back. He felt warm and his arm was slung over her thigh, with the hairs gently prickling against her skin as she adjusted. Bewildered slightly, she glanced around the room and scrutinised her foreign surroundings. And then it all came rushing back; the night she'd spent with Storm.
Her cheeks flushed as she recalled every vivid detail; from the moment that he had kissed her, to when he'd carried her into his room. Then, she'd been lost in the midst of it all but now, she could replay it all clearly and if there was one thing that she was certain of – Storm was as good in the game as he was in bed.
Whilst she was almost certain that he'd had enough experience to perfect his rhythm, it did nothing to quell the satisfaction that coursed through her.
She glanced at the digital clock on his stand; 7:50 it read. She had hoped it had been earlier, that way she could sneak out without having anybody staring at her. Nevertheless, it was the walk of shame or out welcoming her stay and she didn't need Storm to think she was a love sick puppy after one night.
Storm's arm was still slung over her bare thigh and for a moment, she simply stared at him; his mouth hung open as he slept, with half of his face pressed against the comfort of his pillow. The sheet didn't cover his entire body in fact, it just about brushed the top portion of his backside, allowing her full access to gaze at his well-defined chest and back. His arm, with the thickly tattooed circle, clung to him and she sighed – she hadn't always found tattoos attractive but the scene playing before her had her changing her mind on that front. His chest, whilst strongly defined, had a trail of hair that ran down it, past his hips and down to his v line. Goddamn, she thought to herself and withdrew her gaze.
Slowly, she eased her leg from his grasp and let out a breath, thankful he didn't move. She hoped she wouldn't orchestrate a failed attempt, like they portrayed in the movies. But that was harder than expected when she couldn't even find all of her clothes in the room. Camilla spent a few minutes scouring for them and came to the conclusion that they had been tossed all over the room, but she'd managed to find everything but her knickers. "Ah crap," she muttered quietly and slipped on her trousers without them. She almost felt exposed, but the idea was ridiculous –nobody was going to know if she went solo down there or not. She pulled on her jumper and twisted her hair into a bun, at least then she didn't look like she'd shagged someone the night before.
Or maybe she did.
She felt like she did.
But what was wrong with that? She realised that it was the twenty first century and if anyone was going to voice their opinions about her sex life, something that didn't concern them, they could go sod off. She didn't dwell on this any further and slipped out of Storm's room, gently closing the door behind her. They'd agreed last night was just sex – staying was asking for complications and she quite liked the easy going nature between them. It was precisely why she was quiet as she slipped on her shoes, discarded at the foot of the bed that she'd managed to grab before she had left his room.
