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“Get on your hands and knees.”
I get into position, wriggling my ass at him, yelping when he gives it a light slap. He soothes the sting with his palm, then bends over and drops a kiss on the spot where he smacked me.
I feel the touch of his lips on my skin to my very core, making me quiver.
The last couple of times we’ve had sex, we’ve included him fucking me from behind in our roster, and oh God, it feels so damn good, how deep he gets. How easily I come when he slams into me again and again.
When he finally slides inside me, I suck in a deep breath, savoring the feel of him buried so deep. His thick cock pulsing inside me, making me shiver all over. I remain still, hanging my head, taking in the moment like I always seem to do. He does the same, his big hands kneading my flesh, all the encouragement I need to start moving.
It’s his turn to stay still as I slide up and down his cock, slow at first, gasping at the friction, how my body drags along his shaft, eventually picking up speed. Until he grips my hips hard and slams into me, that guaranteed orgasm hovering in the near distance, making me reach for it…
I cry out his name the moment it hits me, falling forward so I can whimper into the pillow in front of me, clutching it to my face while he continues to fuck me. Another orgasm builds, this one smaller but still intense, and when it’s all over, I collapse onto the bed with Cam wrapping me up in his arms, my face pressed against his chest so I can feel his thundering heart.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they eventually find me dead on a Tuesday,” he says once he’s caught his breath. “You right next to me. Dead as well.”
“What are you talking about?” I lightly slap his chest, hating the visual.
“I mean that if we keep this up, I don’t know how we’re going to survive it.” He kisses my forehead. “I have news.”
I frown. “What is it?”
“There’s no practice today. Some sort of coaches’ meeting is happening instead and they told us about it at the last minute.” He smiles down at me when I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’m free for the rest of the afternoon.”
“That’s great,” I breathe. “But what about Knox?”
“What about him?”
“Is he coming home eventually too?”
“Oh yeah. Probably.” Cam’s gaze turns distant and I wish I could read his mind.
Or maybe I don’t want to know what he’s thinking. I’m not sure.
Eventually we climb out of bed and get dressed, Cam protesting that he’s hungry. We put together a snack in the kitchen for him and I join him on the couch, where he turns on some action movie that he cranks up the volume on, leaning back against the couch to eat his nachos, flashing me a smirk every once in a while.
“What is your deal?” I finally have to ask him.
“Life is good, you know? Got you sitting by my side after banging our brains out. Eating nachos. Catching up on the Fast and Furious franchise. No practice. I can’t complain.” He holds his arm out to me and I snuggle in close, leaning my head on his chest.
Thinking of all the things I could complain about, though I keep my mouth shut.
It’s starting to get to me, all the sneaking around. He acts like he’s totally into me, but he doesn’t seem in any hurry to let people know we’re even together.
Specifically, my brother.
How hard is it, to just come clean and tell Knox the truth? I’m getting to the point where if Cam doesn’t do it, I will. I’m not scared of Knox. He’s all show anyway. He’ll put up a fit, yell that Cam isn’t good enough for me but then eventually settle down. Then we’ll be able to move on and actually be in a public relationship.
But Cam doesn’t take the initiative. He always puts it off. And I’m growing impatient.
Like theI want to smack him, kind of impatient.
The movie bores me and I start to drift off to sleep at one point, when suddenly Cam sits up, causing me to practically fall off his chest, rousing me.
“Knox is on his way home.” He leaps to his feet and starts gathering up the mess we left behind on the coffee table after eating our snacks, gathering the empty soda cans. “Maybe you should…”
“What, you want me to go?” I stand, brushing my hair out of my face, the annoyance growing as he dashes about the apartment, looking to trash any evidence that shows he might not be alone. “I’m so tired of this.”
He takes everything to the kitchen and dumps it in the trash. “Tired of what?”
