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A/N: We ready for his wrath? I'll be the first to admit that I'm not! Lmao, vote and enjoy, lovelies! 💋

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Pusillanimous

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Pusillanimous.
  Adj.
Showing a lack of courage or determination; timid.

"What the hell, Cameron? Why would you just leave without telling someone?" He seethed angrily as soon as the bedroom door had shut.

I winced from his harsh tone and his expression immediately softened, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be... such a big deal." He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, sighing harshly. He walked over to me and threw his arms around me as I buried my face in his hard chest.

"No, it's... it's fine. You just scared me because you're drunk and I had no clue where you were. Please don't do it again, mamas," He pleaded softly, his husky voice immediately sending shock waves between my legs. I shivered from the nickname and his grip on me tightened. He soon let go of me and I changed my clothes inside the closet so he couldn't see me. I threw my bra off, discarding my panties as well since it's way too hot, and slipped an over-sized shirt on that I knew I had borrowed from Skye. I slipped on some of my notorious silky pajama shorts along with knee-high pale pink socks and walked out.

He blew out a breath and looked at me, trying not to check me out, "Ryan never said where you guys were." I sheepishly looked at the floor as I held my wrist up. I looked up to him and he gaped at the bandage, "You got a tattoo? Where the hell is my Cammie?"

I knew he was just kidding and maybe it was the alcohol that made me so upset, but I scowled at him and stomped out of the room, stumbling, and made my way into Ryan's room since he was too busy playing video games to notice. I flopped on the bed and found a cup of vodka on his nightstand. I grinned to myself and quickly gulped it, not wanting to lose my drunkness over the tattoo escapade.

After about thirty minutes of thinking about how I acted with Elliott, I decided to go apologize; even if I was drunk. I giggled to myself as I climbed out of bed and fell straight on my arse. I used the bed to prop me up as I tripped over my feet and grabbed the doorknob before I fell again. I blew out a breath of relief and opened the door, quietly creeping out and peeking my head around the corridor to peek inside the living room. The fireplace was lit, the lights were off. Ryan and Oliver were snuggling, asleep, on the couch with Daniela sprawled out on their laps. I giggled quietly and spotted Elliott, scrolling through Netflix to find something to watch.

He was sitting slouched on the couch, no shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. The way his bare upper-half looked was beginning to drive me wild and I bit my lip to suppress any embarrassing sounds that had the audacity to spill. He began reading the description of a movie and I watched as his face hardened in concentration. The way his eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes moving and his breathing steady. The way he nonchalantly bit his inner cheek.

I'm torturing myself.

He clicked on the movie and it began playing. I sighed and walked over to him quietly, but tripped over a pair of shoes and began to fall. I braced myself for the impact that never came. I opened my eyes and noticed Elliott's arms were around me as he picked me up and placed me on his lap.

"Klutz."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled as my knees were on either side of his waist. His hands were on my hips as he carefully watched the movie and dissected the plot. I felt his groin under my own between his sweatpants and my thin shorts. It took all of my willpower not to grind my hips because of how right this feels, so I just bent down and lied my head on his chest. He sighed in contentment and placed his hands on my back as I hugged his torso, "I'm sorry for being a brat."

  "Go to sleep, mamas."

I listened to the movie in peace before dozing out slowly.

I don't know what time it is, only that it's still dark. I'm no longer drunk, my head wasn't even fuzzy anymore. Ry, Oli, and Danny's quiet snores filled the room along with the sound of a movie playing and the fireplace crackling. The way Elliott was breathing had me confused, he's breathing heavily as if something is bothering him. I was just about to sit up when I felt it. A very long, very hard erection was pressed into my crotch. His large hands were gripping my hips roughly, forcing me to stay put. Oh, no. Did I move too much in my sleep?

I felt his erection pulse underneath me, Jesus- he's painfully hard. I couldn't help but feel myself become immediately hot. Heat rushed to my core and I whimpered so quietly I could barely hear myself. His breath hitched once he heard me and I felt him grow even more, how is that possible? One of his hands trailed up my back, calming himself. He thought I was still asleep. He reached a spot on my lower back that was ticklish and I involuntarily jerked against him. He groaned huskily and I know now how it's taking every ounce of self-control he has right now.

I bit my lip as his erection pulsed under me and I moaned softly. Every muscle in his body tensed under me and his grip became harsh.

"Cam, please stop," he breathed and I felt butterflies in my belly at his pleading. He's so turned on right now, just like me. It's almost a crime not to touch him right now. I gently rolled my hips and he whimpered under my movements. I lifted my head and placed my hands on his chest. I have no idea what I'm doing right now or why, but it feels right.

Everything with him feels right.

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