‘Fine.’ I sat up. ‘But I warn you, do not try anything, or I swear you will find yourself unconscious on the floor.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said, sounding sincere. ‘Besides, this is no different from when I used to stretch you after practice.’
Oh, I remembered those sessions. I remembered them more vividly than I cared to admit. The feel of his hands, the way he seemed to intuitively know how much pressure to apply until it was just perfect, the way my muscles melted, and along with them my resolve. Well, I only ever let my resolve melt once, but we all know how that ended.
‘How do you want me?’ I asked, already feeling a little breathless, and we hadn’t even started.
He smirked.
‘No, nothowdo youwantme. I mean, where should I sit . . . Cam, just tell me where to sit.’ I was flustered now.
‘Edge of the bed.’
I moved to perch on the mattress, my back to him, and predictably, as he drew nearer, something fundamental shifted in the air around us.
‘Mind if I pull your top off your shoulder?’ he asked gently. ‘I need access.’
I looked back at him, arching a brow.
‘I swear,’ he said quickly, hands lifted in mock surrender, ‘just your shoulder. Nothing else. Scout’s honour.’
‘Remember what I said. Try anything and you’ll be unconscious before you hit the floor.’
‘Got it. Floor. Out cold. Noted.’
I lifted the fabric, exposing my shoulder blade, and his thumbs went to work immediately, pressing into me, gently at first, circling the tight muscle. I winced slightly when he applied more pressure.
‘Too much?’ he asked.
‘No. It’s fine.’
‘I’ll go a little softer,’ he said, and dialled it down. His hands moved slowly, methodically, sliding over my shoulder as if his fingers knew it so well. Knew my body. I closed my eyes.
I didn’t mean to breathe out like that, a breath that bordered a little bit too much on a pleasure-induced moan. He heard it, but continued to massage me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched me this way, not with urgency and lust, but softly. My encounters were just sex. Nothing more. But this . . . this was something I’d only ever experienced with Cam. My body decided to lean back on its own, as did my head. He was close to me, so close I could feel his breath on my neck.
My heart pounded – too bloody loud, too fast.
And then, because this was feeling so good and because I was feeling so relaxed, panic rose.
The panic of real feelings. The panic that my spine was doing that thing again and so was my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. And if I didn’t pull away now, I was going to tumble head-first into something I wasn’t ready for.
‘That’s enough.’ I stood up abruptly.
‘Lizzy . . .’ Cam stood too, and the look on his face . . .He knew.
‘No,’ I said, already backing away, already fixing my shirt. ‘Thanks. It’s fine. My shoulder’s fine.’
‘There’s something I want to say.’
I shook my head. ‘No.’
‘There were so many things left unsaid from that night. I—’
‘It was all said, Cam.’ My voice was sharper than I meant it to be.I was already halfway to the door, because if I stayed a second longer, I might start to unravel.
‘Lizzy, don’t go.’
‘I’ve got something to do,’ I said, stepping out into the cool night. I needed it cold, because I was burning up. I was on fire inside and something needed to put it out.
