Page 78 of Slots & Sticks
I shift closer, rocking against him until I can feel how hard he is under me, the heat of him pressing into me through our clothes. His eyes flutter closed, and I catch his lower lip between my teeth, needing to see his face, needing him to look at me. “Camden,” I sigh. “Look at me.”
He does. God help me, he does, and the look in his eyes almost undoes me more than his touch. It’s not hunger. It’s not pity. It’s that steady, aching kind of love that terrifies me because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
He looks like he’s falling apart—like one more second without me might ruin him. Maybe that’s what I want. For us to be ruined together.
I tug my dress over my head, toss it aside, then guide his hands to my skin. “Please,” I whisper, forehead to forehead. “I want to feel you.”
He strokes his thumbs over my ribs, then dips his head to kiss the place where my neck meets my shoulder. I wriggle against him, fumbling with his shirt until it’s off, and then there’s nothing between us but skin and heat. My hips roll almost of their own accord, seeking him, needing him closer.
“Dot…” His voice is a low, rough sound against my ear.
“Shh.” I kiss him again, deeper, until I can taste the sound of his heartbeat on his tongue. “I want you. I want this.”
He sucks in a breath, lifts me a little so he can tug his sweats down. It’s easy to lift the skirt of my sundress and push my thong out of the way. I reach between us, guide him to me.
He drags his cock through my slickness and pauses. “I don’t have a condom on me.”
I meet his eyes. “I know.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “I could grab one from my nightstand.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You could get pregnant.”
“No.” I bite my lip. “I’m on something. To regulate my cycles.”
He groans, jaw clenched, fighting for control. “You’ll let me take you like that?”
“Yes. I want to feel everything.”
That’s what breaks him. He pushes in, slow and thick and bare, and I cry out as he fills me, inch by inch, like he’s carving a new home inside me.
Once his pubic bone hits mine, I jolt. The stretch, the heat, the rawness of it—it’s almost too much. I gasp, clinging to his shoulders, cracked open by the sensation and the trust. I keep my eyes on his. I need to see him. I need him to see me.
Every thrust feels like a goodbye I’m not ready for. I try to slow it down, try to savor him, but my hips move on instinct—needy, urgent, aching for more. I rock down against him, chestto chest, our foreheads touching, his hands cradling my hips like he’s afraid I’ll break. Gasping his name, I bury my face against his neck, then lift my head again because I can’t stand to look away.
“I’m here.” His thumb brushes the tears off my cheeks. “I’m right here.”
I kiss him hard, hips rolling faster, the sound of our breathing filling the tiny golden space of the master closet. He whispers my name, and I answer with a soft sob, clutching at his shoulders as pleasure and relief blur together. I cry out his name, the sound torn from somewhere deep. The orgasm hits sharp and bright, like the moment before a fall—terrifying, unstoppable. My body clenches around him, a rush of heat and light, and I hold his gaze through it all, tears and all, until I’m shaking and he’s whispering, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He shudders inside me, silent but shaking, and I feel every pulse, every tremor, every piece of him pouring into me.
I want to believe it’s enough. That love can fix the cracks in us.
But all I know is right now, I don’t want to let him go.
Chapter Nineteen
Camden
“Are you sure this is okay?” Dot asks. She looks from me to Coach Shaw, then back again. “I can drive him. Maybe I should drive him. You know what? I’ll get my keys.”
“Dot, it’s fine.” I reach out to catch her shoulder as she turns back to the house. “I told you, it’s no problem. I’m heading over for the first day of practice. There’s no need for you to make a whole separate trip.”
Dot wrings her hands. I didn’t realize that people actually did that. I thought it was just a turn of phrase. There’s no other way to describe it, though. She’s throttling her poor fingers. “But what if you get tired, Dad? Or what if you need to stop for something on the way home?”
She’s trying so hard to fill every gap. Trying to hold the whole world together with her hands. God, I want to be the one to hold her together for once.
