Page 83 of Keep Me

I get to reacquaint myself with the beauty of her face, from the slope of her nose, to her full pink lips and the crease between her brows when she’s dreaming.

Of all the nights we’ve spent together, she’s only had two nightmares since that very first one in New Mexico.

As much as I’d like to believe that I’m the reason they’ve lessened, deep down, I hope it’s because she’s more confident in the fact that she’s safe now. Not just because of me, and don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t think twice about ending anyone who dared hurt her, but I think she feels safe within herself and her ability to keep herself protected.

Camille stirs on my chest, so my hand drifts from her hair to her back, rubbing soothing circles that will hopefully get her to drift back to sleep.

Her eyes peek open, a look of relief on her face when she looks up at me.

“What’s wrong?” My voice is almost a whisper, so as not to startle her.

“Nothing, just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I hedge, continuing to rub the circles on her back.

“No, tell me a funny story instead. It’ll help me.” She rests her chin on her forearm, staring at me for an answer.

I raise an eyebrow. “Me? Funny?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You are when you want to be. I’m sure you have at least one funny story.”

I rack my brain, because of course when someone asks you directly, nothing comes to mind. I now know why contestants on Family Feud choke on the fast money round.

Until finally, a memory flashes in my mind.

“When we were eighteen, Theo and I went to Mexico for my aunt’s wedding. Theo is basically like my mom’s second son because he was always around the house growing up. Anyway, since the legal drinking age is eighteen there, Theo drank for the first time.”

“First time? He never drank illegally in high school?” She sounds surprised, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Theo’s a rule follower, through and through. So he decided to let loose there. We were day drinking at the pool, and there was a dance contest.”

“Let me guess, Theo lost?”

“No, actually, he’s a great dancer. But because of the alcohol in his system, he didn’t register that his swim trunks were falling off…and let’s just say he flashed the entire pool, including my family.”

“Noooo.” She giggles against my chest, the vibration making me chuckle with her.

“Yes, and it gets better. In his rush of embarrassment, he tried to pull them back up but lost his balance and fell into the bushes, ass up, flashing everyone, everything.”

Camille’s laughter fills my ears, the sound easily my favorite as tears begin to leak from her eyes. She wipes at them. “I feel so bad for him, but that is so funny.”

“What was your first drunk experience?” I ask in turn, my interest piqued.

Camille looks away for a beat, then returns her gaze to mine, looking timid. “Well…I was only sixteen. Quentin and I stole the finest bottle of wine we could find from the cellar, and we drank it in the gardens, far away from prying eyes.” She shakes her head, folding her lips together. “We snuck back into the kitchen, and this is where my obsession with hot sauce and popcorn began because I ate an entire bowl of it. I then proceeded to have way too many gougères, which is this delicious pastry that’s made with choux dough. So, mix cheese with the hot sauce and wine, and let’s just say I threw up all over Quentin. The sound woke a maid, who then went and told on me. So not only was I throwing up profusely, I was also getting reamed out by my parents.”

“They sound real shitty,” I mutter, annoyed at her parents for doing that rather than taking care of her.

“C’est la vie.” She shrugs. “What about you? What was your first time like?”

“I thankfully don’t have a story to tell really. Me and some buddies in high school got drunk at a party. I passed out on the couch. End of story.”

“Boooo.” Camille pouts, giving me a thumbs-down.

I grin, rolling my eyes before looking back to her. Our eyes lock amidst the easy conversation, and my fingers grasp her chin, lifting it up so I can gently press my lips to hers, suddenly needy for her.

Before I know it, we’re rolling around under her covers, lips pressing on each other’s bodies anywhere they can reach while our hands squeeze and caress. Camille pushes my sweats down and my cock easily slides into her as she wore nothing but a big T-shirt to bed.

We spend the rest of the night moving slowly together, no rush or urgency. We simply enjoy our bodies moving together, prolonging our releases the best we can to get our fill of one another.

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