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‘Can I put my number in your contacts?’ he asks, joining her at the railing.
Jules’s stomach continues its happy squirming. ‘Please.’
He enters his details and sends a text to himself before handing the phone back to her.
‘Beautiful,’ he says, brushing the back of his knuckles across her cheekbone and down her neck, leaving a trail of fire across her skin.
Jules’s gut lurches like it’s trying to sway her into Cameron for a kiss. His lips look so delectable, all pink and perfectly shaped. She’s not sure if kissing for the sake of it is an acceptable part of a fling. Does it always have to be driven by uncontrollable need? Or to lead to orgasms? She really needs another napkin to lay it all out for her. Or a tiny Tori on her shoulder.
She pulls back from Cameron before her gut wins the fight to connect their lips, and wraps her hands around the banister, looking out at the harbour.
‘You know, when Grandma lived with us for a while, she’d put classical music on every evening while we ate dinner,’ she tells him, trying to distract herself from the part of her screaming kiss him kiss him.
‘Sounds special.’ Cameron braces his left arm along the railing and turns his body toward hers. The wind ruffles his hair and she grips the railing tighter. ‘Was this the same Grandma with the Looney Tunes video?’
‘Same one. She had this collection of old records that I loved play-conducting as a kid. They’re with me now back home. I like putting them on over the weekend.’ Jules slides her fingers closer to Cameron’s on the railing.
‘What about you?’ she asks, the cool air on her skin having cleared some of the sexual haze. ‘Are you into classical music, or just here to see Carrie? I know it’s a far cry from 80s synth pop.’
‘I do listen to other genres, you know.’ He moves his hand so their pinkies overlap. Jules’s body tightens.
‘I know. That’s what we first bonded over though, so I associate it with you. You remember when you called me up at work that first time?’
‘Yeah.’ He shakes his head and his hair displaces itself. Jules reaches over unthinkingly to fix it up. Her fingers bury in the thick strands for several seconds before she recalls herself and slowly removes them.
Cameron’s eyelids are heavy, his pupils large black drops on a bed of caramel. Jules sucks in a deep breath, recalling the same expression on his face last night after he’d made her come with his mouth.
‘Sorry,’ she says breathily. ‘Keep going.’
Cameron’s gaze settles on her lips for a drawn-out moment. Jules wouldn’t say no if he leaned up to her, but he follows her wishes and she’s left licking her own lips instead.
‘You got halfway through explaining how to navigate the image database when you stopped talking. I thought the connection had cut out. Then you asked if I was listening to Spandau Ballet.’
‘And you were. I thought it was cute.’
Cameron pushes out of his lean to stare at her with a furrowed brow. ‘That’s the second time you’ve called me that.’
‘What. Cute?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You are cute. In, like, a daggy kind of way.’
‘Cute and daggy.’ Cameron nods roughly and looks out over the harbour. ‘Thank you. They’re words I aspire to be called. That many men aspire to be called.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I don’t accept your apology.’ He moves quickly, turning to face her and snapping his arms around her lower back so he can pull their bodies tight against each other.
Jules’s hands get trapped between their chests. She tilts her head back to look into Cameron’s eyes. The caramel is molten heat.
Cameron’s hands slip down her back, until the tips of his fingers reach the top of her ass. ‘What’re you doing?’ she whispers.
‘Touching you.’
‘I can feel that.’
Cameron smiles and his hands dip down further.
