Page 34 of SALT

"I can, unless being sent away sounds more appealing. If you don't like the rules?—"

"So we're back at this… I didn't break any rules by getting a ride home. He didn't come into the house. You said I couldn't have guys in the house, and I didn't. I have needs, too, Everett. You can't?—"

"You keep mentioning needs, but you have yet to say what they are. What kind of needs do you have, Cameron?" he asks, caging me in and sending every nerve on high alert. He's so close. He's the kind of close I've dreamt about, and the malice in his voice doesn't match the desire I see in his eyes, but I know he's toying with me. This is revenge for me leaving my phone at home. He knows the effect he has on me, and he's playing me like a violin, killing me softly with his song. But if this is where I die, you better believe it will be epic.

Placing my hands on my dresser, I lift myself up for a seat to be at eye level before crossing my arms. "We both know exactly what kind of needs I'm talking about. You seem to want to take care of everything else…" I pause before looking him square in the eyes and adding, "How about those?"

He leans in, his eyes so dark I can't be sure if I'm back in bed waking from a dream in the dead of night or staring into the abyss I've sworn I'd sell my soul to countless times for just one taste. "Is that what you want?"

My mouth is suddenly parched as I dart my tongue out to moisten my lips and find my words as my heart races. Don't back down. Don't back down. "I want to come. If you can't make it happen, I'll find someone who can."

His stern glare stays glued to mine in challenge, and I can't tell if he's ready to fold or raise a bet. There's a slight tick in his jaw before he says, "Show me." I'm momentarily stunned into silence as I replay his words. Did he just say show me, or are the shot and three drinks I had at the bar earlier playing tricks on my mind? "You said you need to get this out of your system. You have my attention. So show me, or this ends now. I'm done with the games, Cameron."

"Show you what?" I stutter out on bated breath as my insides clench with anticipation.

His hand runs through the stubble on his chin as he takes a small step back. "You said you had needs. Show me how you like to be filled so we can be done with this."

"Right here? Right now?" I question coyly, and he smirks, mistaking my confirmation for trepidation, prematurely calling himself the victor. But just as he starts to turn, I draw up my legs, thankful I wore a mini skirt, and let them fall open. "I typically prefer a bed, but a dresser will do."

Those black velvet eyes latch onto mine, and they don't move as the rise and fall of his chest becomes more pronounced. He didn't think I'd do it. He didn't believe that this was what I really wanted. That I'd actually choose him. I can see the torment in his eyes. He doesn't want to want me, but it doesn't change that he does. I give him a minute to adjust to the reality of this moment. There are no more innuendos to hide behind. There's here and now, me and him, in a dark, empty house. When he doesn't move, I slowly trail my hand down my stomach so as not to pull him out of the moment. I don't want him to overthink this and turn away from me. I want him to succumb to the desire I know lurks behind his midnight glare.

When I reach the top of my panties, I slip my hand beneath the satin fabric, and he says, "Take them off." I was already wet, wholly enraptured by his presence, but those words stop me in my tracks. He's no longer just watching. He's instructing. He's telling me what he wants, and right now, that's me. I don't move fast enough, and the next thing I know, his finger barely skims my hip bone before I feel the pinch of my panties being ripped from my body as a whimper escapes my lips. I'm so turned on right now I could come from his stare alone. "Are you ready to get me out of your system so we can be done?"

"Done?"

His jaw clenches as his hands find his hips, and he drops his gaze. "Yes, Cameron. Done. Shove those fingers in your pretty little pussy. This is the only way you'll ever get filled with me in the room. You and I aren't happening."

"But you're here now…" I slide my finger down my slit and bite my lips when I feel my pussy clench on air, begging to be filled. "Show me yours."

"I'm not the one with something to get out of my system. You have five seconds to show me how you wanted biker boy to fill you, or I'm leaving."

Liar. There's no way in hell his honor and duty would allow him to stand here unless this was exactly where he wanted to be. So I don't push. Instead, I do exactly what he asked and push two fingers inside. The euphoric shiver that runs down my spine would have my legs falling out from under me if I weren't already sitting. My eyes threaten to flutter shut and remain that way. The feel of his eyes watching my every move as he stands mere inches away from my soaked pussy, one that he has to know is wet because of him, is utterly empowering and intoxicating. I'm not the girl he took in five years ago. I'm a woman who knows exactly what she wants. HIM.

Fuck. I can't help but close my eyes on the next pump as I shove in deeper. The sound of my arousal and the way my hardened nipples rub against the satin material of my camisole winning out over my desire to hold his tempestuous gaze, but I need more. If this is my first and last time, I need more.

"We both know it's not his fingers…" I add another digit, gliding two fingers down my center. "Or even his cock that I wanted filling me. It's yours."

His nostrils flare, and I know he wants to do exactly that. I don't care who I am to him. He's an unmarried man, and I'm sitting inches away from him with my legs spread, more than willing to let him have his way with me.

"I'm not going to touch you, Cameron, but I'll walk you through it." His eyes finally drop to my center, and I clench hard around my fingers, knowing he's finally seeing me. "If it was my cock filling you, stretching you and making your legs shake, you'd need to add a third finger, sunshine."

I bite my bottom lip so damn hard I'm sure I broke the skin. Everett just called me sunshine. A nickname is meaningful. It's a manifestation, a reflection of his emotions, what he's feeling deep down, and deep down, I now know part of him sees part of me through the same lens I see him. He's never called me anything but Cameron until now. I withdraw my fingers to add a third, and as hard as I try, I know there's no masking the slight tremble in my hand when I do. I like to think I have thick skin; not much can truly get to me except him. The shadows follow me, but I've learned to live with them. It's him who I see in my dreams. It's him that I can't stay away from; somewhere along the line, I let this man run away with all of me. He might break my heart, but I learned years ago that's what they were made for. The sound of my arousal greedily sucking my fingers in, wishing it were more, has a low moan escaping my throat.

"Fuck…" he growls out low and barely audible. "Spread these legs wider the way I would if I was slamming into you, reaching depths none of the want-to-be-men you've slept with have ever been able to touch."

They're already spread, but I push back on my heels and adjust my angle, giving him exactly what he wants, and watch as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. "More, Everett. Don't stop talking," I pant.

"My name breathlessly panted from those lips is the sweetest fucking sin. I don't want to hear its end, but I'm not a patient man, and bitter endings are all I deserve. Let's make this one hurt the worst. I want you to shove those fingers deep, sunshine. Imagine it is my length hitting that spot deep inside of you over and over, wringing out every last drop you didn't know you could give…" He trails off his voice, gruff and pained from what he still sees as the forbidden fruit, and my head lolls against the wall. I don't want to come. I'm not ready for this to be over any more than he is. Where does this leave us when it is over? Done? I'd rather stay here than find out. But when he says, "Circle your fingers over that little bundle of nerves that I want to suck into my mouth as you scream my name," I spiral hard.

"Ev…" I cry out as my legs shake from the most powerful orgasm I've ever had. My head lazily rolls side to side against the wall as I try to come back down. Blinking open my eyes, his molten gaze is closer than it was before I came. He's closer. His body is rigid, his arms tightly molded to his sides, and his fists are clenched so hard that his knuckles are white. "Everett, please," I softly plead.

"Don't," he grits out, his chest heaving as he tears his eyes away from mine and starts toward the door.

I watch him reject me again, steadfast in his convictions that we can't happen, but I refuse to let him go. I refuse to let him think we can't be more. "Everett…" He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, but he doesn't turn back. "It's not out of my system."

"It's only an affliction if you continue to want it… Let it go, Cameron."

The door to my room closes before I can utter another word, but it doesn't stop me from saying what's on my mind all the same. "Not all afflictions are evil." Sometimes, it's because they exist that we discover our disease. Fear is his—not mine.

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