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“Go skinny dipping with me,” Camdyn says, linking his arms around me from behind. “I’ll eat your pussy two days straight, yeah?”
“While you make an impeccable negotiator, my iron is low.” I chuckle.
He squeezes my midriff. “You sound like an old-ass lady.”
“Aw, and here I thought my joke was better than yours. That came from one of my dad’s favorite comedians.”
“I wasn’t joking. Your loss.”
A few minutes later, Camdyn has brought in a couple of duffel bags. I follow him into a slate gray kitchen. “Those are our clothes.”
I pull out snow boots that match my jacket. At the sight of designer running shoes, my brow lifts. Last time I trained, Dad was at my side.
“For the bears,” he says, trudging around to place a fruit tray into the fridge. I have to admit, Courtney makes an outstanding personal assistant.
“Whatever, Cam. I’m not running anymore.”
“Were you in the car accident with your folks? Those peg legs?” There’s a bit of bite in his tone as he places an entire plastic grocery bag in the freezer, then second guesses it and grabs a pack of chicken.
“Can you cook?” My eyebrow lifts, conversation officially changed.
“You doubt that I made breakfast yesterday morning.”
“You made the toast. Probably nabbed your mom’s crispy bacon and those eggs. C’mon, I can’t believe it, Harley Guy.”
“Because I’m tired as fuck, I’m not proving you wrong tonight.” He places the package into the fridge.
Maybe the change of subject wasn’t effective. I’m hungry. I shrug a shoulder. “I’ll cook.”
“Nah. You’re my guest. Your boyfriend is thoughtful. We had sandwiches for the long ride, but your attitude got the best of you.”
With my teeth sinking into my bottom lip, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
“Too late for apologies.” Camdyn lets out a ragged laugh, which foreshadows all the tantalizing torture he has in store for this weekend.
A pulse of arousal ignites between my legs, remembering his depravity. Though we just screwed, Camdyn hasn’t shown me crazy for twenty-four hours. I’m fiending for his corruption.
Tone dipping low with lust, I inquire, “I can’t convince you?”
“I’m securing favors. To begin,” he pulls a crumpled Jimmy John’s bag from the duffle bag.
“Oh no! You smashed Jimmy.” Plastering on a smile, I shake my head. I loop my arms around Camdyn’s neck. Drowning in the marvelous feel of his arms, I place on a grin. “How about some head for effort?”
