Close to You

Page 29

I could get used to this.

Cami’s hand travels down my chest to my stomach, and suddenly the thought of moving again doesn’t seem so impossible. Surprisingly, my cock is ready to go again already.

And then it occurs to me: we didn’t use a condom.

Fucking hell.

I’ve never forgotten to suit up before. Ever.

“Baby?” I ask softly, and bury my lips in her hair.

“Hmm?” It’s more of a purr than a question.

“We didn’t use a condom.” My voice is calmer than I feel inside. But I don’t want to upset her. We’re adults, for Christ sake, there’s nothing to freak out over.

Unless there is.

She tips her head back and looks up at me, her eyes shining in the moonlight.

“I’m on the pill,” she says calmly. “Have been for years. And I haven’t been with anyone since I was married.”

What?

I stare down at her, shocked. Cami is breathtaking. She’s funny and warm and wonderful, and she hasn’t been with anyone since Brian?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“I’m just surprised.”

“That I’m on the pill?”

“No.” I laugh and pinch her, making her squirm, but it backfires when she rubs her thigh against my already hard dick. “That you haven’t been with anyone in so long.”

She shrugs and is quiet for a minute. “It just wasn’t a priority.”

“Well, I haven’t been with anyone since before I was home on leave last year,” I reply, and drag my hand down her back, then draw hearts on her ass.

“That was quite a while ago,” she says, and looks up at me with raised brows.

“I guess it wasn’t a priority for me either.” My hand slips farther down and my fingers slip down her crack and between her folds and back up again.

With my other hand, I grip her hair and tilt her head back, giving me access to her lips and neck. Her lips fit mine perfectly. Her mouth is delicious.

She moans, deep in her throat, as I push her onto her back and cover her with my body again, but rather than slip inside her, I flip her over, pull her hips back, and slap her ass gently.

She gasps and tosses a smile over her shoulder.

“You like that?”

“What’s not to like?” she asks with a laugh, and lowers her head. Her slender shoulders are bathed in moonlight, and to my utter surprise, there’s a tattoo on her right shoulder blade. A small anchor.

I lean down and kiss it, then drag my lips up her neck. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

“Am I sexy enough for you to fuck me again?” she asks, surprising me yet again.

“Such a dirty mouth,” I mutter, and grin. Rather than answering her, I slip inside her quickly, pushing all the way in and making her gasp. “How’s that?”

“So damn good,” she says, and grabs on to a rung in the headboard, white-knuckling it. “You can go harder.”

I bite the fleshy top of her shoulder, grip her hip in my fist, making marks with my fingertips, and begin to fuck her, hard. Her pussy grips me like a vise.

Jesus, how am I supposed to keep it together when she does shit like that?

Using the headboard as leverage, she pushes back on me, her ass slapping against my hips, and propels the speed.

“Faster?” I ask.

“God, yes,” she says, and cries out when I speed up further. I release her hip and shove my hand under her, circling her clit with my fingers, and she loses her mind. “Oh God, Landon.”

“That’s it.”

“Fuck me harder.”

“Baby, I’m already fucking you into the mattress. If I go any harder I’ll split you in two.”

“I won’t break.” She shakes her head vigorously. “Please.”

With both hands gripping her hips now, I thrust as hard and fast as I can, and suddenly she screams my name and comes violently, shaking and pushing back on me, milking my cock like crazy.

I can’t hold back anymore. I push inside and come, my forehead on her back, panting, shocked at what we just did.

It might have been the most passionate sex I’ve ever had. And not even an hour ago we made the sweetest love.

Both blew my mind.

She’s fucking perfect for me.

I guide us to our sides and spoon her from behind, holding her close.

“I get lost in you,” I whisper, wishing I could see her face, but not wanting to move her.

“Mm,” she says. “But it’s the kind of lost that’s like being found.”

I blink, processing her words, and know, in this moment, that there will never be anyone else for me.

“I’M SO GLAD your birthday fell on a Sunday,” Kat says to Riley the next afternoon. We’re all at Jake and Addie’s home for a barbecue to celebrate Riley’s birthday. Mia, Jake, and Kat are in the kitchen. Riley, Addie, Cami, and I are in the adjoining family room, watching with interest as Jake and Mia fight about who’s going to man the grill.

“I’m happy to oblige,” Riley says with a grin, and then rolls her eyes when Mia throws a mushroom at Jake. “Jesus, Mia, it’s his grill.”

“I’m the chef,” Mia replies, her nose in the air.

“That’s the same look you gave me when you were little whenever Mom let you have your way.” I smirk when she glares at me.

“She never stopped throwing that look around,” Cami says with a laugh, and links her fingers with mine.

“I didn’t realize that Riley’s birthday was also known as give-Mia-shit day,” Mia says with an indignant sniff, then turns back to Jake. “I know what I’m doing with a grill.”

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