Page 60 of Sand in My Boots

When he pushes back inside, I barely feel the intrusion, except for the pleasure of it. There’s no pain. “Yes. Right there.”

I bend my legs at the knees, tugging my knees wider, opening myself up to him. It feels more than exposing myself to him sexually. The lock of my guarded heart pops open, freeing it from the shackles tightly secured around it. This week isn’t supposed to be about emotions, but try telling that to my heart. The one I protect like Fort Knox. This isn’t the time to be handing it over, but Cameron’s knocked down all my defenses in less than a week. And damn it, they were there for a reason. A superb reason. So I don’t fall for men I’m not supposed to.

“Cutie.”

Using the pet name he used moments ago brings awareness back to the moment. Back to Cameron hovering over me, us attached. He’s not moving, and I’ve lost count of how many thrusts it’s been. My body’s ready for the free fall. My abdomen tightens at what’s coming. If only he’ll move.

“You with me?”

“Always. You close?”

“I am. Wanted to make sure we go at the same time. Want to fall together?” If only teenage Cameron could see how much he’s grown.

“God, yes.”

“Hands on my shoulders and hold on.”

I’m not sure how I bring them around to his shoulders, but as soon as my hands are in place, he jerks forward. And it’s all it takes to careen.

The orgasm slams into me, forcing my eyes shut, my mouth open, moans emanating around the room. They’re soon joined by Cameron’s grunts and groans, a cacophony of sounds released as we each chase our orgasm.

I spiral down a while, caught up in a feeling of euphoria so huge it’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. All thanks to Cameron.

He empties himself inside me, slowly thrusting to finish. When he’s spent, he lies down, his torso prone on the bed next to me.

“Damn, girl. No words.”

“Same,” I concur.

It’s more than sex with Cameron, but I don’t dare ask him if he feels the same way. I’ve had “casual” hookups before. None of them felt like this. The sex was never this good. It’s all Cameron because even when sex was quick and over way too fast, it was somehow still good.

“I need to take care of the condom, but I’m thoroughly fucked into oblivion.”

“Know the feeling.”

My eyes close, not opening again until he pushes off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. He’s back almost immediately.

It’s my turn for a disappearing act, and after peeing, he’s all cozy in the bed. Lying face down, he lifts his arm when he realizes I’m back. “Need you close.”

Despite my heart protesting, I obey immediately.

Saturday night tumbles into Sunday morning. Cameron somehow got us an invite to the wedding breakfast I planned to skip for the buffet. It’s my last full day here in paradise, and I want to spend it how I want to.

Which means more naked time.

Though my body needs a break. Something I never thought I’d say.

But damn, am I sore.

The only reason I’m contemplating more sex is because this is it. My fling with Cameron Fairbanks ends in about twenty-five hours.

I’m still processing the emotions that go along with that.

I don’t want it to end, but inevitably, it does.

When I arrived about a week ago, I figured I’d run into him, we’d maybe meet for a meal to catch up, and we’d go about our business. Little did I know we’d connect better than our first time, and I’d be back in a position of knowing he could never be mine.

We’ve yet to talk about what happens when I leave. I’m afraid to bring it up, even though I know it’s final. A part of me holds out the smallest amount of hope there’s a way to continue this—the tiny shard of glass you find on the floor after dropping a glass bottle.