Page 85 of Puppy Love

I raise my eyebrows, fighting a jealous smile. Saying what I want to say is a complete violation of the contract. Well, the parts we haven’t crossed out yet. Still, I can’t get it off my mind, like the thought is a little worm, digging deeper and deeper into my brain.

“So what’d you have to do?” I break, turning back to the dog on my table. I pretend to be focused on the thin wire bristles brushing through the coat. “Agree to a date?”

Violet grows quiet for just a moment too long, and my gaze darts up to her, my brows furrowed. She breaks into laughter.

“Sorry.” She laughs, slapping her knee. “I just had to see your face.”

I frown, turning away from her again. “I made no face,” I say firmly.

“You totally did.”

I shake my head. “Like I said, do what you want. Just let me know if we need to start using protection.”

I say it casually, like I don’t know it’s a flat-out lie. Like the thought of Violet with anyone but me doesn’t set my cheeks on fire, doesn’t twist my stomach into a tight, charred pretzel. But even just feeling that way pushes the boundaries of our rules, and saying it out loud? Well, we need to cling to the ones we have left.

“Cameron.”

By the time my brain is telling my eyes not to look up at her, they’ve already latched on. I sigh, as if hearing my full name come out of her mouth doesn’t cause moths to flutter in my stomach.

“Yes?”

“I only want you.”

twenty-eight

Barnyard Revelations

Violet

Cam’s body relaxes underneath me, the sweat beaded at the crown of her head drying and her breaths slowing as she lets out a soft chuckle. 20 I slide the strap-on out of her, green for her favorite color, of course. Then, I unclip the harness, and toss it to the side.

“Damn,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting shut as she focuses on her breathing. A smile creeps across my face, and I poke her soft, delicious thigh with my index finger.

“You’re shaking again.”

Cam’s eyes shoot open, and she looks at her vibrating legs briefly before shooting me a scowl. I like that scowl. Even when Cam is irritated, which is often, she looks so damn cute. Her feathered brows press together, along with the soft downward tug of those pretty pink lips. And that little crease that forms on the bridge of her nose which I can’t help but trace with my finger.

“If you didn’t want them to shake, you shouldn’t have fucked me the way that you did,” she groans, pulling herself upward in the process. Her back presses against my headboard, and I can think of a few other things I’d like to see pressed against my headboard. A curious smirk tugs at the corners of my lips.

“Better than the real thing?” I tease. Cam’s brows raise, and she tugs at the blanket, trying to pull it over her naked body. I frown, letting my weight sink further into it.

“Is that a concern of yours?” she asks, shooting me a cocky grin. I shoot her one right back.

“No.” I shrug. “Because even if it isn’t, nobody else’s name sounds quite as pretty coming from that foul mouth of yours.”

Cam’s cheeks redden, and she rips the blanket out from under me, covering herself with it. I pout.

“Have you watched Shutter Island yet?“ she asks.

Sometimes, when there’s enough time in the appointment, Cam and I will watch a movie. Sometimes it leads to more sex, sometimes it leads to her teasing me about my preference.

I love rom-coms. You know. The Proposal. Clueless. No Hard Feelings. Cam on the other hand… she likes them grim. And by that, I mean really, truly fucked up.

”I haven’t…” I say, dragging out the word. “Cam, respectfully, all of the movies you pick turn out to be so dark.”

More accurately, I find the films harrowing, some of them gruesome, and overall, just depressing. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Yeah... well...”

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