Page 7 of Craving

“You know what,” Camilla said, feeling a strange tightness in her chest, “I don’t want to make you curb your sex life just for me. Maybe I can look for somewhere else to live.”

Marlon sat back on his haunches after he’d placed the last bandage on her foot. Her injuries were bandaged up, and there was a little pile of medical detritus by his knee. His brows drew together. “You want to find somewhere else to live because I have sex sometimes?”

“Okay, you’re right, that sounds ridiculous. You can have sex in your own house. Of course you can! But…but…I don’t want to move into some sex den. Even for a week.”

His expression didn’t change one bit as he blinked. “A sex den.”

“Yes!” She waved her hands at him. “I know beggars can’t be choosers. I’m not trying to be rude. And look, I get it. Women are probably throwing themselves at you. I’m cool and all, I’m super chill—”

“You seem super chill.” Was that a smile twitching on his lips?

“But I draw the line at finding underwear in the couch cushions. I’m probably sitting on your sex juices right now!” Was she hyperventilating? Why was her heart beating so hard?

In some distant corner of her mind, Camilla knew she was being ridiculous. She should just laugh it off and pretend the thong in the couch cushions didn’t bother her. But…it kind of did. But that was absurd! Marlon was a grown man who could have sex with whoever he wanted to.

Visions swarmed her mind. Would she get up for work one morning and find him in here, romancing his latest date? Would she have to creep out the back door so she didn’t witness him screwing another woman? In an old house like this, she’d hear everything.

Oh, no. Camilla tried to wrangle her thoughts. She tried to listen to the reasonable voice that told her that adults had sex, and it wasn’t a big deal. She was staying here for free, and for such a short amount of time. He was doing her a favor. She had no right to impose on him. But—

He put his hands on her knees, and Camilla’s teeth clicked as she shut her mouth. “Camilla,” Marlon started, “I don’t know whose thong that was.”

“Oh, well that makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

There was a strange, tense silence—and then Marlon began to laugh. His lips split into a wide smile, revealing straight, white teeth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Big shoulders shaking, he squeezed her knees with his hands.

She wished the touch didn’t make her core spasm. That was seriously inconvenient. How was she supposed to be a reasonable roommate when his hand on her knee made her feel flushed and hot?

Camilla crossed her arms. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

Marlon was still smiling when he said, “You are, Camilla. You’re funny.”

“If being completely reasonable is funny, then fine. I guess I’m funny.”

Another squeeze of her knees, which sent a fresh jolt running up her thighs. He slid his hands off her and gathered the first-aid supplies back into his kit. “How about this,” Marlon said, glancing at her sideways. “I won’t bring anyone home while you’re living with me.”

Camilla straightened. “That—I mean—that would be great, but I don’t want to impose…”

He reached over and tugged the legs of her sweatpants down, the tips of his fingers brushing her bare calves. “But.” His hands slid onto her ankles, shackling them to the ground.

Her heart gave a panicked leap. Camilla had the sense that she was walking into a trap. Marlon’s thumbs made a slow sweep around her ankle bone. His touch made her head spin. Camilla couldn’t think straight. She sucked in a breath and whispered, “But?”

Marlon’s hazel eyes were steady on hers. His lips kicked up at the corners, and the trap sprang shut. “But you can’t bring anyone back, either. This will be a sex-free zone for the duration of your stay. If I’m going without, you are too.”

THREE

Her skin was soft as silk. Marlon didn’t want to take his hands off her feet, didn’t want to stop stroking the protruding bone of her ankle. That was the only explanation he had for the words that had come out of his mouth; her skin had rattled his brain somehow, and his good sense had been stripped away.

But he wasn’t going to take them back. He watched his words sink in, watched Camilla’s eyes narrow. She was soft and sweet all over, but there was an edge to her, a stubborn streak he could see in the wrinkle between her brows. “I suppose that’s fair,” she conceded. “A sex-free zone. You sure you can manage that? A man who can’t even remember whose thong is in his couch cushions would be starved without a constant stream of women in and out of his door.”

Oh, he’d be starved all right. Especially if Camilla was walking around his house wearing oversized sweats and flushed cheeks. But she’d be going through the same thing. The ridiculous, primal part of Marlon’s brain flexed in satisfaction. No, she would not bring another man into this house. For a moment, he lost himself to those caveman urges. Lost himself so badly that his mouth started moving before he could stop himself from digging the hole a little bit deeper. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. You sure you can handle it?”

Camilla shrugged, the soft jersey of her long-sleeve tee stretching slightly. “Not a problem,” she said with a huff. “I’m too busy for men anyway.”

Her voice did something to him, something profound. It was soft yet sure. It burrowed under his skin, wriggled into all the corners of his psyche he’d kept to himself all these years. Her very presence melted his brain. He needed to take his hands off her ankles, stand up, and walk away.

He’d meant to show her the master bedroom, bid her goodnight, and avoid her until she moved out. But now he was touching her skin and making her promise things he had no right to demand.

With all his willpower, he managed to pull his hands away from her skin and picked up the first-aid kit. Camilla grabbed the towel and bucket, and the two of them put the items away without speaking about their new house rule. The mysterious pink thong went in the trash. A few minutes later, when they were both at the top of the stairs, Marlon glanced at Camilla and thought she wanted to say something.