Page 43 of Beyond the Cage
Sitting back on his heels, he positions me on his lap. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him close, grinding on him, moving my hips in a slow, circular motion. His fingertips dig into my hips, his heavy breathing hot on my neck. I don’t know what’s going on with me right now, but I’m experiencing a sensation I’ve never felt before – even with him. My entire body is quivering. My heart is racing, and I can hardly breathe. Seeking out his eyes, our gazes lock, and I see it. It’s not just me. He feels it, too.
With shivering breaths, I rest my forehead on his. I need his lips on mine. With every rotation of my hips, I kiss him. When he covers my lips, holding me in place, I move faster, harder. He moans and thrusts his tongue into my mouth. I catch it between my lips, sucking, loving the taste of him. That familiar feeling builds in the pit of my stomach and I tear my lips from his. I scream from the pleasure, calling his name and clutching his shoulders. Grabbing my hips, he presses me down onto him with a grunt. With shaking bodies and labored breaths, we cling to each other.
Shifting his position, he stretches his legs and leans against the headboard. I lay my head on his shoulder, waiting for my breathing to return to normal. When it does, I raise my head and observe him. His eyes are closed, but they flutter open when I gently touch his cheek. He gives me a lazy smile and my heart skips a beat.
Now I know. My attraction to him is more than just physical.God help me, but I’m falling in love with Cameron Jackson.
“I wanna ask you something.”
He places his hands on my hips and waits for me to continue.
“I really don’t want to be one ofthosewomen…and I know I won’t like the answer, but…” With an impatient stare, he urges me to get on with it. I take a deep breath. “How many women have you slept with?”
He chuckles and turns his head to the side in embarrassment.
“I wanna know.”
He looks back at me and I see it in his expression that if I choose to continue down this road, I better be prepared for the answer. Then, he shrugs.He doesn’t know? Oh, God…it’s worse than I thought.
“Okay. I’m gonna aim high and say…” I close one eye and watch him with the other half open. “Fifty?”
He shakes his head, and I know he doesn’t mean lower.
“A hundred?”
He wobbles his head side to side as if saying ‘give or take a few’.
“Oh, God!” I cry out in shock.
Diving onto the bed, I sink my face into the pillow.A hundred? What the fuck? What am I, a hundred and one? A hundred and twenty? Am I just another on a long list of conquests?He grabs my shoulder and flips me onto my back, climbing on top of me. I hide my face behind my hands, unable to look at him. He pulls my hands away but I turn my head to the side, avoiding his gaze. Taking my chin between his fingers, he gives me a little shake. When I open my eyes, his are telling me not to worry about it.
“How can I not? You have a hundred different women to compare me to.Atleasta hundred, anyway,” I whine.
He shakes his head, increasing the pressure on my chin.
“What?”
His eyes meet mine, forcing me to stare back, then he shakes his head again.What does that mean? That he’s not comparing me to the others?
“No comparisons?”
The answer to my question is a sound, heart-melting, panty-dropping—if I was wearing any—kiss.
***
“Oh, God. I’m gonna have to do the walk of shame at two in the afternoon.”
He smiles at me from across the Cayenne.
“Don’t gimme that smile. It’s all your fault…keeping me in bed all day.”
Reaching over, he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.
“I’m not forgiving you that easily. You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight.”
His smile turns into a grin and he raises three fingers, giving me the ‘Scout’s Honor’ sign.
“You were a Scout?”
