Page 64 of Best Part of Me

“Fine,” I huff out.

Cammie turns the volume up on the stereo, and a Khalid song is playing. It’s one I’m sure I’ve played in my apartment while I fucked a woman.

Momentarily I’m transported back to my former life. The one before this week with Cammie. Playlists by Ed Sheeran and Harry Styles are also my go-tos when I’m entertaining women. While I don’t particularly care for these artists, they have a gift at making women’s panties wet.

Guess Cammie is no different.

Except that she is. In every way. She’s sunny and charismatic. She’s smart and driven. She’s beautiful inside and out. And she knows just how to unravel me in every way possible.

“California!” she hollers, bouncing in her seat next to me and stealing me from my thoughts. She leans toward me and kisses me on the cheek. “One to nothing, Mr. Mendes.”

While I must admit the kiss to the cheek is slightly disappointing, the formal use of my name sets my skin on fire.

“Only a kiss to the cheek, huh?”

“We’re just warming up.”

Scanning up ahead, I spot a Utah license plate on a semi. “Utah.”

Reaching an arm around her, I cup her head in my palm and draw her face close to mine while I crush my lips against hers.

“Only a kiss to the lips, huh?” she teases after she’s back situated in her seat.

“Guess I’m warming up, too.”

Cammie’s road trip playlist plays through almost an entire Taylor Swift song before she yells, “Colorado!”

This time, my body warms as I sense her pulling herself up to her knees. She leans close to me and her breath sears my skin before she gives me a long, slow, kiss to my neck.

My fingers flex around the steering wheel, craving to touch her. But I can’t find a single different fucking license plate.

“There! Washington! That mini-van.”

“This is unfair,” I say on a frustrated breath.

She just giggles beside me.

Cruel woman.

This time, Cammie scoots closer to me and gathers my shirt in her fist, and hikes it up my torso so slowly. Before finally, dragging her palm down my chest and at last, pressing a kiss to my stomach.

I never would’ve imagined a kiss to my stomach would be so fucking erotic.

“Texas,” the word comes out shaky.Finally.

I wrap my hand around her wrist and yank her toward me before she can return to her seat, and the sound of her breath drawing in is audible. I direct her hand to the stiff bulge in my pants, my hand wrapping around hers while she cups it.

“I think this is against the rules,” she whispers. But it’s haughty.

“What can I say? I’ve never been one for following the rules.” I smirk when she blinks up at me. “Besides, I’m still touching you.”

I keep my hand locked with hers while I thrust into her palm and she inhales sharply again.

“Fuck,” I groan.

“Idaho,” she whispers. Her fingers slowly undo my belt, and tug my zipper down.

My heartbeat accelerates.

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