Page 45 of Keep Me

I flick my tongue against her clit, my eyes on her, drinking in the way her body reacts to each and every move I make. It’s by far the best thing I’ve seen.

Sliding two fingers inside her tight cunt has me moaning against her. Her pussy grips me so well, and if she’s already tight like this, fucking her is going to be even better.

Camille’s thighs begin to shake, and I smile against her.

“That’s it,” I praise, pulling back to look up at her. My chin is soaked, her arousal dripping down from it. She sees it, her eyes widening when she realizes how turned on she is. “Don’t even apologize. I fucking love this.” I keep my eyes on her so that she knows not to be embarrassed.

She nods and throws her head back against the door when I return my mouth to her clit. I tug on it roughly as my fingers slide in and out, fucking her. I curl them inside, earning myself a gasp followed by her thighs shaking around my head.

“Ryker,” she moans before throwing a hand over her mouth and screams as she comes.

I don’t ease up and continue sucking and fucking her and as she rides it out, admiring how she comes undone for me. Once she comes down from her high, I carefully set her foot on the floor, a smile on my lips.

“You okay?” I ask.

Camille bends over, hands on her thighs. “Yes, no. I don’t freaking know. That was…intense.”

I stand, pulling her into me, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Have you never been given an orgasm?” I ask, my fingers brushing away the strands that are sticking to her forehead.

“Yes, but nothing like this, ever.”

“Good,” I murmur, kissing her forehead while ignoring the fact that this is not good. Not even fucking close. We’ve just scratched the surface, yet she already consumes me.

And so help me God, I didn’t want it to stop.

Chapter Nineteen

Ryker

Ilet Camille out of the bathroom first, after insisting that I didn’t want her to take care of me. If we were anywhere else, I would’ve let her like she begged me to. Hell, I’ve been fucking my hand with the thought of my cock in her mouth for weeks. Okay, maybe more like a year or two.

But we were already flirting with the boundary, and if we were gone any longer, it would’ve been suspicious.

I check my phone to see that three minutes have passed, which seems like a good amount of time between her returning and me, so I swing the door open, only to come face to face with Travis.

“Why are you so close to the door?” I bark at him.

“I was just about to knock. After Cami returned to the table, I assumed this one was empty.” He smirks. “Apparently not.”

“That’s what happens when there’s a line. I went in after her. Now you’ll go in after me,” I explain to him in a stone-cold voice, tired of this conversation already.

“You think Coach would like to hear that you’re messing around with our social media manager? What about her boss? I’m sure that would get her fired real quick.”

I bite my tongue and grind my molars together. “Nothing’s going on, so tell them whatever you want.”

“Or I could talk to them about your arrest when you were sixteen.” He cocks his head to the side, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I take a step toward him, anger simmering in my blood. “What did you just say?”

Travis stands straight, trying to intimidate me, but he’s off by a few inches. “An old friend of mine and I reconnected over the summer. We had some beers, nachos, you know, guy stuff.”

My face is blank, giving him nothing as I impatiently wait for him to get the fuck on with it.

“Baseball naturally came up, and my poor friend, you see, he used to play. Used to be great. But the key phrase is used to. Wanna know why?”

Fuck, he knows.

“Turns out a guy named Ryker Lewis broke his pitching arm. He was never able to pitch the same way after it healed.” He sighs, dramatics clearly being his thing. “Sad story, isn’t it?”

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