Camryn
WRAPPED IN TRYSTAN’S arms I feel whole and complete. His jade orbs peer intently into mine and I can’t help myself. My lips crash down on his. Our kissing is frantic. His teeth nip at my lips and his tongue begs for entrance. Kissing him is like second nature. Heat pools between my legs from his lips alone. My moans elicit a smile from him I feel against my lips. With one hand, he grabs my hair and pulls my head forcefully, and with other, he effortlessly picks up my body and pushes us up against the wall. My legs find their way around his back, and I can feel his hard length through our clothes. Trailing his lips down my jawline toward my neck is my undoing.
“God, I need you right now,” I breathlessly force out.
Chuckling, he continues his assault on my neck with his mouth and tongue. Lips skim across my collarbone. Holding me in place with one hand, my shirt is frantically ripped off my body. I am past caring at the moment. My need for this man is unexplainable. Warm air from his mouth dances across my breasts and my nipples instantly pucker into hard peaks, begging for his attention. His tongue laps my sensitive skin. We are drunk on one another right now, and his greedy mouth sucks, licks, and nibbles all over my sensitive breasts. He is in tune with my body, and after all these years, he doesn’t miss a beat. Moaning frantically, I hold his head close to me. No space between us.
“Please, I need you now. Your cock in my pussy now. Please. Please. Please.” I don’t even realize I am begging. My juices are flowing and my pussy is twitching with need.
Before I know what is happening, we are on the move. Carrying me effortlessly to my bed, he throws me down and rips open his own shirt. Standing there with his shirt wide-open, suit jacket still on, tie hanging, I am in awe. Damn, this man is a gift from God and age has been kind to him. The removal of his jacket and shirt reveals muscles bulging, veins popping, beautiful colors and intricate designs covering much of his chest and upper arm. Inspection of those will happen someday, but that day is not today. His skin is golden brown and begs for attention. My eyes take in the sight of him, and when I look up, he catches me staring.
“You see something you like, Sunshine?” he taunts, while slowly removing his pants. Underneath, he is free from boxers or underwear, and his thick hard cock stands at attention. Mouth watering, I watch the show as he slowly begins stroking his length. Watching his hand gliding up and down his erection, I am entranced. There is something to be said about watching a guy a pleasure himself, and I could watch him caress and stroke himself for hours. God, I forgot how pretty his cock is. I know pretty isn’t a word you should use to describe the male anatomy, but his is just that: perfectly smooth, thick and veiny, a perfect mushroom head, and eight inches of pure sex. Looking up to meet his eyes, his gaze is intense and penetrating. “Get those pants off, Cam, and let me watch you play with that pussy. Is she ready for me? Do you see how big and anxious for you my cock is? It has been a long time, and I have been dreaming about pounding that sweet pussy again for years. Tell me you want this cock, baby. Let me hear the words.”
His words send shockwaves to my pussy, and I can feel my wetness trickling out of me. Frantically, I get my pants off and dip my fingers into my pussy. I look at him while doing so, deciding to tease a little myself. Soaking wet would be an understatement at the moment, and my fingers glide effortlessly in and out of me. With one hand, I pinch and massage my clit while fucking myself onto the fingers of my other hand. His breathing turns labored and his hand begins to move faster, stroking himself in time to me fingering myself. Frantic and frenzied movements from both of us are synchronized. His up and down movements match my in and out.
“You playing hard to get, Sunshine? You were begging for my cock a few moments ago and have gone a little quiet on me. Although, your heavy breathing and moans turn me the fuck on. It has been too long since I’ve had your warm, tight, wet pussy wrapped around me. I think it’s time we change that. Let me remind you. Give me your words, baby. I want to hear how bad you want this cock.”
He was always a filthy talker, and his words have done a number on me more times than I can count. As bad as I want to tease and torture him, my need to be fucked mercilessly by him outweighs everything else.
Startled by a loud crash of thunder, I awake with labored breath and find my hands between my legs. For fuck’s sake. Dreaming about him has become a constant over the last month, since I saw him. Waking up wet and wanting is not an ideal situation. My vibrator and wand have seen more action in the last few months than is likely healthy. Quite frankly, it’s driving me mad. The anger and hurt I feel for him are still very real, but the need and want for this man never seems to dissipate. Packing up my grandmother’s belongings must have taken its toll on me. An afternoon nap was not in my plans. But oh what a nap it was.
Being in Trystan’s arms again, even if only for a short time, is affecting me more than I wish it would. How can it be; the same person who broke my heart, all those years ago, calms my soul, makes me feel things I haven’t felt in so very long, and stirs every aching need I have in my core? Sure, there have been men after him, but they all pale in comparison to Trystan. They could never ignite a fire within me the way he can. And I am not just speaking sexually. T challenged me me in every sense of the word. He encouraged my spirit and strength. Chasing my dreams was vital to him. After all these years, I still don’t understand how it all went wrong. How with one decision, made by him, all of the dreams and plans together incinerated into nothing.
The crashing thunder and vicious lightning caused by this storm is an appropriate representation of Trystan and me, and what he did to my heart. I have not seen him much since the celebration of life for Gigi, but Avery talks about him incessantly. Flowers and little gifts appear regularly as reminders from him, that even though he is busy with work, I am on his mind. Apparently, he has been working a huge case. His whereabouts should be of no concern to me, but for some reason it is. To say I worry about his job, would be putting it mildly. Honestly, I hate that I worry about him, think about him, and dream about him.
Realizing I have a few more hours until I need to start getting ready for my night out with the gusband, I grab the book I am currently reading and make my way to my favorite spot in this house. The slider in my bedroom leads to a wraparound balcony deck. Thankful for the roof coverage during the storm, I can curl up in my favorite chair. My mind is all over the place, so who knows if I can even concentrate on reading. Getting lost in a fictional world is one of my vices, but lately I have even struggled with that.
Stepping out onto the porch, the air is thick with humidity and my hair instantly springs into curls from the moisture. About the only thing I miss about living in Nevada is the dry air. The stickiness wraps itself around my body, and I get lost in the beauty of the landscape surrounding what is now my house. I mean I grew up in this home, but I now own it outright.
Gigi left me everything when she passed. She came from old money. This means I have more money than I know what to do with and our plantation-style home. It really is too much house for Hunter and me, but I cannot bear to part with it. Offers have been made on the over five thousand square foot home more times than I can count, and some blew my mind. It is the quintessential Southern home. Imagine a massive, stark white brick structure with black shutters, wraparound porches on the lower and upper levels, big columns lining the entryways and the porches, and more windows than any home needs. Six bedrooms, four baths, and ten acres of land may be overkill for just two of us, but this house is full of memories and nostalgia. The recollections of growing up here, and of the two most important people in the world to me, solidified my decision to keep the home. Memories of cooking with Gigi in the massive kitchen, learning to ride my horse with my gramps’ helpful ways, the library which is a book whore’s dream, holidays, tea parties, and social events, and every other sentimental moment and memory that shaped me make this home full.
Who knows, maybe someday, I will have a family of my own to share it with and create new memories. These thoughts cause me to laugh, because I am not getting any younger. My biological clock is ticking, so to speak, and dating has been a joke, to say the least. I can’t make my mind stop thinking about a certain green-eyed man who destroyed me. When I was away from this place, it was easier to keep him off my mind and lie to my heart about how much it still ached for him.
Back in Nevada, I was engaged at one point; thankfully, I found him sleeping with his secretary. Odd to say thankfully, but that relationship was long overdue to end, and his infidelity gave me the perfect opportunity to do just that. People become comfortable and complacent, just going through the motions in life, and that is what Eli and I were doing. His cheating didn’t hurt my heart, and that was reason enough to know marrying him would have been a huge mistake. Sure, we loved each other, but we were not in love any longer. And perhaps we never were. He filled a void in me at the time, but I don’t think he ever had my full heart. His infidelity certainly made me question myself and what could be wrong with me. He was the second man to cheat and that never feels good, but it was also a relief in this case.
Hunter has been trying to convince me to start dating again, hopefully to take my attention off the man who is currently taking up residence in my head. His thought process is that if I am not willing to listen to Trystan, then I need to get him off my mind. He is right, and that is the only reason I agreed to go to this ridiculous speed-dating event tonight at Maggie’s. Nine months now I have been back home, and it is time to try and put myself out there and attempt to move forward. Tonight, I will get dolled up, and endeavor to keep an open mind, while meeting strangers for ten-minute intervals, to see if any of them make me feel something. Attempt is the operative word here. My comfort zone is being breached like crazy. What the fuck am I getting myself into? Don’t people date the normal way anymore? Meet in conventional ways? Although what is conventional, really? I don’t honestly think I will meet someone at the grocery store while shopping for produce. “Excuse me, sir, can you hand me that cucumber?” The thought alone causes me to laugh out loud. It was much easier when I was in my twenties, heading out to bars, clubs, and social events often. Blind dates haven’t worked and online dating is a joke. Try online dating, they say. It will be fun, they say. It is not fun and my advice is to not do it. I know it has worked for many, but for me it was a nightmare and a comedy show. Thank God for my sense of humor because it was the only way I made it through the messages and requests coming my way on those apps. Cocktails will be a must tonight, and if anything, maybe Hunter and I will have some funny stories to take home from it.
Vibrations from my phone, with an incoming text, jar me from my thoughts. Seeing Avery’s name pop up makes me smile. We haven’t seen each other in a few days, and I am missing my bestie.
Avery: Hey, hooker! I need some bestie time. Drinks tonight???
Me: I would love to, but I have that speed-dating thingy with Hunter at Maggie’s. You should come. Maybe meet the man of your dreams? Get some dick for a night? How long has it been?
Avery: Ohhhhh I forgot that was tonight. I am all set with that nonsense. Who meets a guy speed dating? I mean seriously, Cam. Maybe I will come and sit at the bar, make silly faces at you, and get myself wine drunk. On second thought, maybe I will stay home watch a chick flick, eat ice cream, and get drunk alone.
Her response cracks me up because she is known for making the most ridiculous and inappropriate faces at the most inopportune times. She is a pro at mimicking giving a blow job, causing me to spit out various drinks over the years.
Me: Bitch, just come! It will be fun, or at the very least, entertaining.
Avery: All set, chick! Have fun and call me tomorrow with the details. Love you. Kisses.
Me: Fineeee!!! Call you tomorrow and love you too!
After a few hours of daydreaming on my porch, I shower quickly and prepare to get ready for my night out. What does one wear to a speed-dating event? Casual and cute? Dressy? It’s hotter then balls out, so a black maxi skirt and fitted turquoise blue tank are what I settle on. The tank makes my ample breasts look amazing. My curves are on display. For shoes, I opt for some strappy, black wedge sandals. They give me the added height I lack. Cute—check. Casual—check. Comfortable—check. Lord knows, with this humid weather, I will have to keep my mane somewhat tame, so I know it will be curls and waves for the win tonight. Opting to keep my makeup light and natural, I am ready to go.
Making my way downstairs, I hear Hunter singing in the kitchen. He is rocking out to some TI, “Swagger Like Us,” and I can’t help but chuckle. Hunter and I are obsessed with rap and hip-hop music. Not this new school stuff, but the old school rap is everything. You will often times find us listening, singing, dancing, and sending each other obnoxious snappers via Snapchat of our favorites. We have gotten Avery in on the mix too. And if there are drinks involved, our performances get amped up a notch. Making my way to him quietly, so I can sneak up on him, I take in my best friend. His hips shimmy and gyrate perfectly in tune to the music. He is singing the lyrics and seems to be lost in his routine. And I am not complaining about watching this show. Someday he will make some man the luckiest guy in the world. Trust me when I say, that man will be grilled and given the fifth degree by me because Hunter deserves only the best, and I will ensure he gets that. His looks alone set him apart, but the man’s heart is a pure as they come.
“Hey, stud! Can I get in on this dance party?” I say jokingly, while wrapping my arms around him. Hunter spins me around in his arms and continues his performance. Laughter falls from my mouth as he gets to the lines in the song from Jigga himself, Jay Z. It is our favorite part in the song, and we belt it out getting each word with the precision of J himself.
“Do we have to do this tonight, Hun? Can’t we just stay home, drink, and have a spa night? I don’t need to date. I have you and am perfectly happy with that. Who needs a man, anyway?” I whiningly say.
“Cam, hush your mouth. We are going. If the moaning coming from your room earlier is any indication that you need a man—or at the very least some dick and a good fucking—then I don’t know what is.”
My face instantly heats and I know it must be bright red. He heard me dreaming?? And apparently I wasn’t quiet about it. Fuck my life.
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. We all have needs. And from the sounds I heard earlier, you were taking care of those needs just fine. Get it, girl. Was it the wand? The bullet? The vibrator? Spill it.”
“Fucking hell, Hunter, you listened to me? Would you believe I was having a dream about a certain detective, who shouldn’t be dominating space in my brain. Sadly, he is permanently etched there and it’s driving me mad. If there is a record for flicking the bean, or vibrating the shit out of one’s pussy, I think I single- handedly have beaten it,” I grumble out in frustration.
Hunter erupts in laughter, which in turn makes me laugh.
“That sound like a lot of flicking and vibrating. If that dream caused you to moan like you were, I want to be around for the real show. Can I ask you something? Why don’t you just talk to him and see what he has to say? Avery seems to think if you just listen to him, you’ll understand what happened. It can’t hurt.”
“Are you serious? He fucked someone else! What could he possibly say to make that better? I have thought about it over and over and cannot come up with one single scenario where that is okay. Not a one.”
“So what can it hurt to just listen? That’s all I am saying. Just hear the man out and then be done for certain, after you’ve heard what he has to say. In the meantime, let’s go find someone to take your mind off him, even if only for a night. Keep an open mind, Cam. You aren’t auditioning a husband tonight: just someone to date, or maybe just fuck occasionally. Maybe make you forget a certain gorgeous man. Shit, if he swung my way, I’d be all over that. What he did would mean fuck all, and I would just bask in all his muscles and those eyes. Those things are lethal. It’s like he is looking into your soul. He fucks like a champ, doesn’t he? No, don’t answer that. Of course he does,” he rambles on.
Smacking him in the chest, I retort, “Seriously, Hunter? I don’t even know where to start with all that. So let’s take it from the bottom.”
“Darlin’, you know I prefer to top, but please, continue,” he chimes in, smirking and raising his eyebrows.
“You’re an ass! First of all, who knows if he can still fuck like a champ. Maybe he can’t get his perfect dick up anymore. Which would be some sort of karma for what he did to me. Yes, his eyes are lethal and a major weakness for me. Thank you very much. Maybe someday I will listen to him, but I’m not sure I want to hear what he has to say. My heart can’t take it, Hun. Like it literally cannot take it. If we are doing this tonight, let’s do this. Keep an open mind. I can do that. No problem. Perhaps a few cocktails won’t hurt that open mind.”
“Girl, a few cocktails may have you keeping more than your mind open,” he sarcastically says, while flashing a wink and a perfect smile. “Let’s go, Buttercup. We got some boys to meet.”