Page 59 of Sand in My Boots

His smoldering eyes stare hungrily at me, his fingers still kneading my toes into a state of oblivion. I’m turned on for many reasons. Alcohol. Cameron’s naked chest. The state of my undress. His fingers making my toes melt. All of it adds up to set the mood.

But I don’t want my fingers to do the work. I want his.

Or his tongue.

Or his dick.

All would work.

“I don’t want to make myself come,” I finally admit on an exhale.

“I don’t want you to make yourself come,” he retorts, a wicked gleam in his eyes knowing I’m closer to giving in. “I want you to get yourself ready for me. So I can slide inside your tightness and claim victory.”

His words shouldn’t spur me into action. They should do the opposite—not let him get away with the prize. But damn if my fingers don’t meet my clit, rubbing slow circles to get me started, earning me more of Cameron’s approval.

“That’s my girl.” His use of “my” has my fingers slowing, but I don’t verbally question him. “Wasn’t a slip of the tongue, Jude.”

“Fuck me.”

He takes it as the permission he needs.

Dropping my feet from his fingers, he pushes my shoulders down to the bed before shimmying out of his underwear. “Move the hand.”

I obey immediately, knowing what’s coming will be so much better than I could ever do. I haven’t let my mind drift to what happens when I leave. How much I’m going to miss sex and someone other than myself providing orgasms.

The box of condoms sits on the nightstand, and he wastes no time rolling one down his long shaft, securing it at the base. My tongue licks my bottom lip on its own, and after he’s completely covered, I don’t drag my eyes away. At least not until he demands, “My eyes are up here.” Desire pools in his orbs, the greens hungry for something. And I know what that something is. “Why are you studying my eyes?”

Swallowing the spit gathering, I squeak, “The green’s a pretty color. It’s darker than usual. People pay to have that color.”

“Good talk, cutie. Mind if I get back to business at hand?”

Without missing a beat, I nod. “Please do. I’m wet and ready for you. Capture your win.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

His hands urge my thighs wider. When he has me where he wants me, he situates himself, his arms caging the sides of my torso on the bed. I lose connection with his gaze as I slide my vision to his arms momentarily. His biceps bulge as he presses them into the bed.

Cameron breaches my entrance without warning. As he pushes through the point of pain, it’s a smaller wince this go-around.

“You feel good, Jude. So good. I want to bury myself inside you forever. Think we can make that happen?”

I know it’s spur-of-the-moment talk—how would that even work—but his use of forever opens a locked key inside me. It’s not a “casual” comment, even in the heat of sex. Forever means something more. Something way more.

“I-I,” I stutter for lack of words. What is the proper response to that anyway? Instead, I address the first part. “You feel good inside me.”

Inch by inch, he moves farther in until he’s seated to the hilt. He doesn’t wait for permission to move. His first thrust shifts my entire body, my head dangerously close to falling off the bed.

“Oh shit. Didn’t think this through.”

I don’t know what he’s referring to, but I’m not so lost in my head that I don’t miss when he pulls completely out. The loss is immediate, and my vagina weeps. It hadn’t been long, but I was close, my fingers getting me started on the uphill journey to ecstasy.

“What’s going on?” He’s got the condom on. Unless he felt something amiss with it. I press up to my elbows, trying to assess the situation from a different angle. “Everything okay?”

“Great. We need to not knock you off the bed. Scooch toward the headboard, would ya?” His finger points in the direction he wants me to move in case his words weren’t clear. And let’s be honest. I’m a little needy and not in the right frame of mind for getting things done right now. So, yeah, the nonverbal cue is helpful.

Once I’m in a better position with my head on the edge of the pillows, he flashes a giant smile. “I’ll get back to work now. What’s it going to take? Two? Three? Four thrusts till you’re there?”

“Four at the most. I’m pretty close.”