Page 29 of Scandal

“I shouldn’t have said that.” My eyes dart around, seeking escape. I wipe my hands down my shorts. “Wait, no, that’s not what I mean. I should have said it. Said it sooner. That I like you, Cam. I should have kissed you again.” Apparently, I’m all honesty tonight. Filter be damned.

Even in the pale light, I can see Cam’s face flush, his cheeks falling, jaw tightening. His hands tremble at his sides. He takes another step back, recoiling from me.

“I’m fucking this up,” I growl.

Then he steps forward, holding his hand out. “No. I fucked it up. Xan, I fucked up so bad. My dad...” he pauses on a shaky inhale.

We both go silent for a moment, while some students noisily run down the hall, drunk on their way home from the bar, no doubt. Carefree. Not tangled in a fucked web like I’ve gotten Cam into.

When the voices trail off, I steel myself. “He knows about me? About us?” I wager.

Cam nods, and I notice a tear make its escape, racing down his plump cheek. I race to him, my hand coming up without my permission, to wipe the wet trail. A second makes a fast escape in its wake. His lips tremble.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. That’s not your fault, angel. I told you, shit follows me. I’m the shit stirrer. This is my fault. I’m the one who made my own bed, okay? I have to lie in it. You are blameless.”

“If I wouldn’t have mentioned you to him...” he trails off as he sucks in a shaky breath. I brush the hair back off his forehead.

“That’s not how this works.” I cup his face in my palms. “You hear me? I don’t want you blaming yourself. I’ve made all my own choices. This is why I didn’t want you involved with me. That’s why I gave you space. You know how fucking bad I’ve wanted to kiss you, angel? Since that night in the rain? It’s killing me not to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” he demands. Bravado like I’ve never heard before. Brushing my thumb over his bottom lip, so it’s pulled down a little, I release it. Those lips. So pliant.

I will obey. Anything he wants. At least right now. At least in this moment. Anything he wants. I want to kiss him too. With every fiber of my being.

Want to crash into him, but I take it slow. Glacially slow. Enjoy the sight of his lashes as his eyes flutter closed, his pulse thrumming in his neck, his tongue poking out and wetting his lips. That pretty face leaning expectantly toward me.

His breath hitches when I move in and hover just millimeters away.

Then I carefully brush my lips over his. Suck in a sharp breath of my own, against my will, a soft groan slipping involuntarily from the back of my throat.

I can’t hold back anymore. The dam of self-control bursts, and our lips meet, quickly wetting as we move our mouths in unison, locked together. Cam sucks my breath from my mouth, his tongue dominating mine. Tasting and taking me. Like we’ll never kiss again. Hell, maybe we won’t. Never know what his daddy will do. But right now, he’s mine. In my arms.

I scoop him up by the waist and his legs wrap around my middle. Cupping his perfect peachy ass, I walk us the two steps into the wall for leverage. Keep him pressed against it. All mine.

It’s more than just my cock swelling. My emotions are doing some weird thing where they rise tangibly inside me, threatening to spill out of a profession of love. Gotta keep my mouth locked on Cam’s to avoid such a perversion.

When his fingers weave into my hair and tug me closer, shockwaves of pleasure roll down my spine. Can’t help but grind into him. He rolls his hips in reply. Moans into my mouth.

He tugs at my shirt, and I let him pull it off. Use the moment to gasp for air. He can suffocate me if it means more kisses. I’m starving for those kisses. But got to get his shirt off too, now that there is the promise of feeling his soft skin against mine.

I walk us to his bed and lay him down. Crawl on top of him. His hands explore my back and I flex each muscle as he traces them, nipping and sucking at his lips. At his throat. Down that delicate neck. His collarbone. The way he moans, so soft. Spurring me on. Driving me fucking wild.

As I come back up to take more of those sweet kisses, his hands fumble between us. He’s taking his pants off. Execute emotional code sequence: Love.exe.

Wildfire erupts inside me. Uncontrolled and unaccounted for. Desire crackling, embers spreading to every inch of me. My nerve endings are live wires. Spreading the electric shock. Taking all the volts he has to offer me.

Cameron

“Fuck, Cam,” Xander groans when I slide down my jeans. He shifts to allow me to kick them free. Now it’s just my briefs in the way. And those pesky sweatpants of his. “Look at you,” he gasps, a finger tracing over my hard length.

A zing rips through my body. Apparently, there is a wire connected from my cock to my toes.

Now is no time to blush, but I do it anyway. You can’t write command codes for real life, but if I could I’d tell the machine to try removing pants.

I want to see him. Dreamed about it plenty of times. Thought about it an awful lot.

My brain goes fuzzy when he grips me in his palm. His hand is huge. He covers me easily. Lazy strokes over the fabric. I’m in a vice grip. My eyes threaten to roll back into my skull, but I will myself to look at his lustful grin. His eyes are a hallowed repository of enigmatic endeavors. He’s got some black-box algorithm for driving me wild. Can’t tell you how it works, but it works. Boy, does it work.

“Xan,” I groan. Wanting more and more. Greedy with whispers of things I want, that I can’t express, that I don’t know how to initiate. That I don’t know how to execute. Does Xan know?

---