Page 75 of Curious
“I wonder if I could fuck you in a hot tub,” I muse. “Would you like that?”
He nods. “I can get some lube.” He scrambles out of the tub and disappears into the cabin without bothering to dry off.
I have no idea if this will work, but when he comes back, I massage his ass as he writhes on top of me, and eventually he lets me play with his hole. While I loosen him up, he’s sucking on my neck, my earlobes. We’re kissing and rubbing against each other, and fuck, why didn’t I get myself a husband before? Though I know the important part isn’t “a husband.” It’s Shelby. He turns me on more than anyone I’ve ever been with before.
Once he’s loose, I say, “I’m going to fuck you bent over the side. That work for you?” Our skin is so heated from the water that it doesn’t matter what kind of frigid air we’re dealing with.
He nods, and I haul us partway out of the tub. Then I lube myself up and spear him on my dick. He groans in pleasure just as loudly as I do. I love this. I love fucking him. I love how his tight heat feels around my bare cock.
I love that we trust each other enough to go bare.
I love that, in this sloppy fuck, we’re doing more than getting each other off. We’re connecting. We’re making love.
Yeah, this isn’t just a fuck. I’m making love to my husband.
As he twists around to kiss me over his shoulder, I think he knows it.
And we’re going to keep doing this as long as we can.
CHAPTER24
Shelby
Camden and I return from the ski weekend, and I look around his house. When I got here a few months ago, the place was a disaster: bare studs, no flooring, hardly any lighting.
Now, it’s finished, with freshly painted walls, new flooring, shiny fixtures in the kitchen, and even new furniture in most of the rooms. We’ve hung photos and paintings, and the place is a real, cozy home.
A home where I’m not totally sure I belong—even though I want to. Now that it’s all fixed up for him, he’s all set. Moreover, he’s healed. Cam’s returned to work full-time, and he insists on cooking dinner, doing the dishes, taking care of the things I did when he was laid up. I don’t know that he needs me around anymore.
There’s a file folder in my messenger bag with printouts from insurance companies that are ready to enroll a small business owner like Camden, especially since he doesn’t have a preexisting condition anymore.
And there’s another file folder with rooms to rent in Los Angeles. I’ve found a place quickly before. I can do it again.
I listened when Cam said that he wants me to stay—but how do I know for sure unless we keep to our agreement? If we actually get the divorce and he still wants me after that … then I’ll believe him.
So while I listen to my husband’s quiet breathing in the middle of the night, I stare at the ceiling and wonder what I should do next.
* * *
On Monday morning, I walk into Sam’s office.
“Hey,” he says, looking up with a smile. “Wasn’t this weekend fun?”
I nod. “Yeah. Sure.” I swallow hard.
Sam studies me. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“I need a recommendation. Do you know who here can handle a divorce?”
“Reyna. She’s the best family law attorney we have.”
I shake my head. “No, that won’t work.”
Sam frowns. “Why not?”
“Because it’s about her brother.”
He scrunches up his face. “Charlie? Why does Charlie …” He pauses, and if this weren’t Sam Stone, who’s always in control of himself, I think his mouth might fall open a little. “Camden? Don’t tell meyou’regetting a divorce.”
