Page 61 of Camera Shy

“So, tell me, are you wet for me?”

“Soaked,” I respond.

His lips turn down as he gives me an impressed head nod. “That dirty talk is coming along nicely.”

I give him half a chuckle, then he’s back to business.

“Show me.”

“Like…” Wait…huh? “How do I show you that?”

Finn holds up his index finger.

I squint one eye. “You want to finger me?”

He shakes his head, wearing a smug smile. “No, I want you to finger yourself.”

My inner freak goes dormant and I’m suddenly on the brink of nervous chattering again. The uncomfortable pang in my chest goes from aroused to nervous in an instant. “Well…what are you going to do?”

“What do you think?” he snarks. “Watch.”

The limo finally lurches forward, pulling into traffic. Finn removes his hand, rises as best as he can in a covered vehicle, and moves to sit on the adjacent bench seat. He settles in his seat, his hungry eyes trailing over my body. “Come on, Avery. We’re on a time limit now. Show me how you touch yourself. Don’t even think about lying by saying you don’t do it. Mason didn’t satisfy you a day in your life. Show me what you’ve been doing in private for four years.”

“Is this um…another lesson?” I ask stupidly. I’m just buying time, hoping my bravado catches up. I’ve never masturbated for a man before, let alone in the back of a moving vehicle. Hot or wrong? Sexy or degrading? Delicious or embarrassing? I don’t know. “Is this what men like?”

Finn shrugs as he bites down on his lower lip. “It’s what I like.”

I’m torn between my self-respect and burning desire to do what Finn likes.

He’s been sweet all night. I talked. He listened. He’s been patient and playful, protective and proud…he—oh.

I get it.

The foreplay.

He’s been priming me all night, acting like such a gentleman. Now he’s asking because he knows he deserves to get what he wants. There’s no other way to see it. He earned it. The clever bastard.

Yanking my panties to the side with my pinky, I trail my middle finger against my crease. I look anywhere but at Finn. “Like this?” I mutter.

“You look a little uncomfortable,” Finn says.

“Because I am.”

“Why?” he asks.

The answer is obvious. I’m on display. But why does that bother me? All Finn has done is praise and worship my body. The bulge in his pants right now is telling me his feelings aren’t all lip service. What do I want from him? No. What do I want from me?

It’s permission.

To enjoy this.

To get from this what I want. To be selfish and think about what the fuck it is that I need. I watch Finn’s chest rise and fall. It’s clear he’s trying to control his breath. He’s got both hands half tucked underneath his thighs, securing them as if he doesn’t trust them. What if for just a moment in time, I let myself believe that a man who looks like Finn is turned on by a woman like me?

I slip my longest finger into my slit. Feeling my own wet heat, I swivel my finger around until my arousal coats my entire finger. Holding my middle finger in the air, I say, “See? Wet.”

“Holy shit,” Finn says as he dips his head and rakes his hand through his hair. “I didn’t actually think you were going to do it.” He smiles. “Such a good student.”

“Are you coming back over here?” I pat the seat next to me with my unoccupied hand.

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