Page 11 of Dirty Little Mistake

I sucked in a sharp breath as he trailed kisses over my thighs and pussy. The first swipe of his tongue slid up my length striking my clit and making my knees so weak I used the wall for support.

His hands curled around my hips, and a choked sound lodged tightly in my throat when he jerked my hips forward and buried his face between my thighs.

"Holy fuck—" The words caught in my throat as my head fell back against the door as his tongue circled my clit teasing and torturing me. "Please…"

"Please, what?" His breath fanned across my heated skin, fingers pressing harder into my thighs. "Say it, Cam. Say it or I'll stop." His commanding tone, combined with my desperation and his touch, nearly made me come undone.

"Please, make me come." My fingers threaded through his hair, holding on like an anchor as my legs trembled beneath me.

I was rewarded with his heated tongue as it swept a long path up my length that ended with a long deep pull of my clit. "Keep begging, baby."

My fingers tightened in his hair. "Please," I cried out as he sucked my clit between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue with the perfect amount of pressure that made my entire body vibrate. My legs trembled, and my abs clenched. "Trystan."

"Fuck you taste so good," he hummed against my clit. A low groan pushed past his lips like he was as into this as I was. "Come all over my face, baby."

His mouth, his hands, his words were all too much. "I'm coming." Releasing my clit, he lifted my leg, giving him better access as his tongue slid to my entrance lapping up every drop of my orgasm. God, I wished I could see him. See what he looked like with my orgasm all over his face.

My labored breathing filled the room as he released my leg to the ground. "Holy shit, that was amazing."

He guided my panties up as he rose from the ground. "That was so fucking hot." His hand tunneled into my hair, forcing my head back as his mouth dropped to mine. "Open your mouth." He groaned against my lips. His grip tightened in my hair as my lips parted, and he fed me his tongue until I couldn't breathe. I tore my mouth from his and sucked in a deep breath.

He released me, disappearing, and a soft light flicked on after a few seconds.

My gaze trailed over him, and my lips quirked up at the very prominent bulge hidden behind his denim pants as I corrected my skirt. My chest tightened with the realization that I'd just become another one of his groupies. My smile faded.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shoving his hand through his disheveled hair.

"I just became another groupie."

His brows pulled together before they widened with realization, and his lips quirked into a smirk. "You think I do that with my groupies?" I shrugged. He shook his head. "No, I stopped you from becoming another groupie. I don't kiss groupies, and I've never gotten on my knees for a woman before. That was a first for me."

"Really?"

He nodded. "So now that I've given you an orgasm, don't I owe you food or something?" He chuckled. "Isn't that how the dating thing goes?"

A laugh bubbled out of me. "No." I shook my head. "It's usually a meal, then an orgasm and we're just friends remember."

"With benefits," he leaned forward swiping his shirt off the floor, "and I've never been the traditional type."

"So you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Let's get out of here, and maybe we can figure out what we are over food."

Chapter 4

Trystan

Saying goodbye to Cam shouldn't have been that hard, but it was. It's not like I was leaving forever. I'd be back in a couple of weeks, and I had her number. I could call her anytime, but it wasn't the same. I was already craving her mouth, the feel of her skin against mine, her taste.

I inwardly groaned. How was I supposed to stay away for weeks?

The night before, we'd agreed that it was just the wrong time for anything more than a friendship, but the truth was that I hated the thought of her being with someone else. It wasn't fair for me to ask her to wait for me, though.

Hiking my bag higher on my shoulder, I glanced around the empty parking lot where I was supposed to meet Lennon, Creed, and Saylor. We were heading to Atlanta, Georgia, for a few days for a gig, but apparently, everyone was running late. I glanced at my watch: 9:30 a.m. We were supposed to be on the road thirty minutes ago. Pulling my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, I slid the phone open and clicked on Creed's name.

"Hello." Creed's voice rasped against the speaker, followed by the distinct rustle of bedsheets.

---