Page 66 of Revved up & Ready

“Never came up, huh?” His response is more confusion than anything, but there’s no hint of judgment. “Not even just to see what it’s like to go down on someone at the same time? Have a little race—see who can get the other one off first?”

The way he talks about sex is so casual.Have a little race?Like sex is a light, playful experience. It was never like that for me. I was always self-conscious, and eventually, I only slept with my ex because it seemed like something Ishoulddo. I rarely got anything out of it. Shaking my head, I say, “No, never.”

His brow furrows.

Before he can ask more questions, I decide to unload the whole secret—something I’ve always been too ashamed to admit to my friends. “Jared never went down on me at all.”

Cam’s jaw clenches, and I swear he looksangry. “That fucking idiot,” he breathes.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever been with. So—” I take a steadying breath. “I’ve never experienced that,ever.”

Cam’s silent for long enough that I wonder if something’s wrong.

Maybe he is judging me after all?

“I know, it’s embarrassing,” I start to fill the silence, staring at my hands as I wring them together. “I probably shouldn’t have told you—”

His fingertips dip under my chin, gently lifting my face toward his. “First, there isnothingfor you to be ashamed of. Him, on the other hand—I didn’t think it was possible to lose even more respect for that asshole, but…” he lets his words trail off, shaking his head.

“Secondly,” he says, releasing my chin as he stands up from the bed and walks around to my side. His broad hands reach under the blanket and flip me around until I’m sitting with mylegs dangling off the side of the bed. He drops to his knees, placing himself between my legs. If he wasn’t staring intently into my eyes, he’d be looking right at the crotch of my tiny pajama shorts. His hands grip my knees. “Will youpleaselet me do this for you?”

“What?Cam, you can’t—”

He lifts a finger to my lips andshushesme. “Let me finish.”

Too stunned to speak, I nod my agreement.

“Please, Sadie.” He blows out a breath, shaking his head from side to side before fixing me with an intense,for-the-love-of-everythingstare. “This is an experience you need. You deserve. And I—” he takes a deep breath. “Iwantto give this to you. I want to do this for you. I want to show you why this is something you should never allow yourself to go without again. Let me show you why you shouldnevertolerate a man who doesn’t bury his face between your legs and worship.”

Worship? He wants to worship me? How did we get here? Do I want him to—who am I kidding? Of course I want him to. But it’s not a good idea. We can’t—

“Talk to me,” he interrupts my thoughts, holding my gaze. His hands grip my spread legs as he kneels before me, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs.

Is he offering to do this right now?

I release a shaky breath. “On the ground like that, it looks like you're begging.”

His eyes narrow, and his head tilts. “Not sure how I could be clearer,” he says, letting go of my legs and folding his arms, elbows propped on the bed. “Iambegging you.”

“Cam, you don’t—you can’t—” I start to protest, because denying him feels like the right thing to do—even though I want exactly what he’s offering.

His pleading eyes search mine. “It doesn’t matter who I am to you—friend, boyfriend,pretendboyfriend, roommate. Itdoesn’t matter. I’mbeggingyou as one human being to another. Please, let me do this for you.”

My heart races. Where, normally, my mind would be cluttered with a thousand thoughts, all I can think now isI want it to be him.

He sits there, silent and yearning, watching me. Earnest. Kind. And he looks at me in a way no one else has. If I allowed myself to acknowledge any of the thoughts I’ve had about him today, I’d already admit it: I want him.I want him.

Why can’t I say yes? Why can’t we do this?

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks after a long silence.

I should just say yes.But he would have todoit. He would see me. Taste me. Know me in a way no one else has.That’s the point, right? But what if he doesn’t—what if I don’t—what would it do to us—

“Sadie.” His hands drop to the outsides of my knees as he pushes to his feet.

Did I take too long to decide? Does he not want me anymore? Should I have—

“I don’t want to stress you out.” He cups my face, pulling me forward to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to say yes now, but it’s always on the table.”

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