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I still can’t trust him. Even if my heart is starting to crumble under the weight of the memories and love I had for him.
Had?
Chapter Ten
Gael
I’m surprised Cameron didn’t throw me out for asking him to stay with me.
Instead, he did what he said he would, and five minutes later he was lying next to me. At first his body heat didn’t reach me, because while he was in the bed he couldn’t have been more far away. Now he’s the big spoon, and I’m absorbing all the body heat I can get from him. Storing it for when he won’t be here with me.
I’m always so bloody cold inside.
I push deeper inside the cocoon his arms around me are creating, and I’m rewarded with a kiss on the nape of my neck. I moan and then freeze, waiting for him to push away, but he gets closer against me and a very interested part of him presses against my back instead.
Fear of what happened on the street is dulled by Cameron’s familiar scent and touch. I’m not in any shape or form fit enough to have sex, but I’ll give everything I have to spend a day in his arms like we did when we were younger. No resentment, no regrets, and no animosity between us. Instead, I long for his wicked smile, his voice explaining something to me, incomprehensible and obscure, and his need to be with me.
When he presses his morning wood against me, looking for more friction, I push back to give him what he’s looking for.
A desperation to experience the feeling of being one with someone I love again, gives me the strength to turn around and plaster my front against his.
Gently, I move my hand, from his lips that just kissed me, and down his chin, surprised by the feeling of his stubble—so new, but at the same time, exciting—and then down his chest, in a straight line that’ll bring me to the gem hidden behind his bottoms.
I wish I could see his body, see how it changed when he became a man. See how his muscles have developed and admire the trail of hair leading to his cock. What I want most though, is the chance to be inside him, to have him in my arms and hear his moans and pleas of pleasure.
With two fingers, I pull the elastic just enough to get my hand in. I leave it there, caressing the very trail I want to see. When a moan escapes from Cameron’s slightly open lips, and his hips move as if looking for more of my touch, I oblige, my fingers grazing his skin to entice him so he’ll ask for more.
I shouldn’t be touching him, not when he’s sleeping and not when there is still so much unresolved between us.
When I decide to take my hand out, Cameron moves his hips backward, and his even more interested cock touches my finger, making both of us tremble.
Seeing his expression becomes a necessity, so I raise my gaze from where I’m touching him to his face. His lashes flutter, but his eyes stay closed, and my need for him to know it’s me touching him increases.
I move my fingers up and down because I want more of these beautiful reactions, and his whimpers fill the room. His hip movement increases, and my eyes travel down to witness it. I leave my fingers there for him to rub against them, entranced by how beautiful he looks while chasing his pleasure.
I pull my gaze away from his barely controlled movements and again place it on his face. His eyes, wearing a trace of makeup, bring out feelings of regret and fondness, and it fills my eyes with tears for what we could have had but had lost. What I took away from him. From us.
Later, when we’re both awake, I’ll explain everything, and even if nothing comes of it, at least maybe things with us will be less awkward. I don’t expect him to forgive or forget what I’ve done or put him through.
How do I know? Because I’ll never be able to forget or forgive myself.
A more powerful push brings me back to this moment. I’ve dreamt about it since I took the train to what I thought would be freedom and the chance to have a better life. My intention was to come back and ask Cameron to follow me.
I was so naïve, and I paid a steep price for it.
I push those thoughts away, because I’m now where I always wanted to be. Inside Cameron’s arms, inhaling his scent, touching and kissing him whenever the need struck.
My lips turn up at his pinked cheeks, and his puffy lips still wearing traces of lipstick.
How many times did I make it disappear with my kisses?
“Gael, please. More.” The words are a whisper in the air, but the effect is electrifying.
My name on his lips, and that breathless request, shatters the thick wall I built around myself to keep the pure love we had safe.
I hug him with all my strength because I don’t want to let him go ever again.
“Gael?”
