Page 50 of Knotted Laces

“You’re?” I ask incredulously. “With Lex?—?”

“No.” His mouth curves.

“I-I don’t understand.”

He cups my jaw, fingertips slightly rough, thumb brushing along my cheek. “I’m in love with you, cupcake.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cam

Her face tells me enough—shockand horror.

The little Jackson brother declaring his feelings.

Fucking stupid.

Fucking—

One second, I’m cupping her cheek, her body close and tempting, filled with so much longing that it’s eating me up inside.

And the next…

She’s shifting, plastering her body against mine, lifting on tiptoe and wrapping a leg around my waist.

“Wh—”

Her mouth hits mine.

For a blip, I’m frozen in surprise, my mind trying to process with what the actual fuck is going on. Then I realize that it doesn’t really matter. Because Athena’s kissing me and I’m just standing here, squandering the moment.

That, more than anything, spurs me into action.

Seize the moment.

Take what I can before it’s gone.

I step forward, pinning her between my body and the wall, slipping a hand beneath her other leg and hefting her up, coaxing her to wrap it around my waist. She does and we both groan at the contact—my dick, hard and ready, pressed against the softness between her thighs.

“Jesus,” she moans, breaking the kiss, “but you’ve got a big cock, Cam.”

All the blood rushes from my head to…well, to my other head.

“And you’ve got a dirty mouth,” I growl, cupping her chin, turning her face back to mine.

“Yeah. So?”

I lean a little closer. “So, let me taste it again.”

I don’t wait for her to respond, just lower my mouth to hers, taking advantage of her parted lips to slip my tongue inside, to taste her fully. Her moan rumbles up the back of her throat, dances over into my mouth, and she arches against me, riding the hard edge of my cock and making feel like I’m a teenager about to come in my pants.

Christ, that’s good.

I press her against the wall, drag my hand up along her side, desperate to feel her bare skin beneath my T-shirt, desperate to have her naked.

And she makes it clear she feels the same, hands scrabbling at my clothes, fingers grasping the hem of my tee and yanking it up.

Yeah, this isn’t working for me.

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