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He stills beside me. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
“Like I said, we’re in this to help each other,” I say, but I’m not sure I believe my own words. “It’s only been a few days, but it’s going great.”
He doesn’t say anything in agreement, though, and I refuse to look up at him. I feel like if I do, I won’t stop looking at him. He continues to move his thumb along my hip, and my blood simmers in my veins as I remind myself this is all for show. Even I can’t ignore the way everyone keeps looking back, grinning and gossiping. Just the way I wanted. It’s insane to think that people care this much about two people being together. I guess that’s the world we live in, though. Social media rules all. But the obsession with celebrities has always been a thing. In no way am I saying we’re celebrities, but people care what we do. To me, that’s dumb since we’re just two normal people, but I bet celebrities feel that way too.
Though, thinking of that is impossible when Benson’s thumb just won’t quit. I almost want to place my hand over his to stop, but I can’t. I physically can’t. I crave his touch, the way his thumb moves, how I feel his heart pounding into my shoulder. I move slightly, my ass grazing his thigh, and his thumb presses deeper into my hip, causing my breath to catch. Someone is talking about how we’ll walk, but I can’t pay them any mind. I’m lost in the way his thumb is gliding along my hip, and the pressure he inflicts before rubbing it away is pure madness.
“You smell really good,” he says softly in my ear, and I can’t keep my eyes from closing as I lean into him. My mouth goes dry while my mind reels with how badly I wish his thumb would move between my legs. How I know I’d come so hard and quickly that nothing else would matter in the world. It wouldn’t matter that this is for show; it wouldn’t matter that he is only helping me and I’m helping him. All that would matter would be my release.
Oh, how I want it.
From him.
I arch into his thumb without thought, and I feel him tense behind me. “What are you doing?”
I don’t fucking know. “Nothing.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yup, nerves.”
He brings me in tightly. “I got you.”
I got you.
Fuck. Me.
My body trembles as his words replay in my mind. Soon, in my head, his words merge with the image of his thumb moving along my slick lips, finding my sensitive bud, and bringing me to the edge. He wouldn’t even need to try; I’d cry his name in seconds. I know I would, and sweet Jesus, why am I thinking this? What am I doing?
Fuck me, I make bad choices.
Chapter Seventeen
Benson
I think saying Cameron is beautiful is pointless by now.
It doesn’t need to be said.
It’s just my reality, and the urge to fall to my knees for her is getting harder to resist by the moment. Her scent, ahfuckme, it’s a lot. The dress, yeah, I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what she’s nervous about, but if she doesn’t stop moving her ass along my thigh like that, she and I are going to be finding the closest dark space. So I can show her how I don’t give a single fuck about the money, the deals, or anything other than drowning myself between her thighs.
As Cameron arches into my hand, I find myself forgetting the anger that was burning inside me moments before. I don’t like how she insists that I’m doing this for the money. I thought she knew me better than that, but it has been three years. She does know I come from nothing, but she also knows that the Adlers are good to me. I may not have as many followers or endorsements as she does, but I make good money. I guess I could tell her that. Though, the thought of her pulling back has me hesitating. What if she shuts down? What if she doesn’t want to do this anymore if she assumes I’d get nothing out of it? Yeah, I’m gonna have to navigate this carefully. As much as I don’t want to, I may have to reel in my desire for her and show her who I really am.
That I could be completely and utterly hers.
I should probably just tell her my intentions, but I don’t think she’s ready to know yet. Plus, she stopped talking to me when things got deep—yes, I am aware that there was an unplanned pregnancy involved, and we’ve both grown from that—but I’m still scared. I’m not trying to go down that road again. I don’t know why, but I don’t think she does well with emotions. I feel as if she might have some issues from her past, not that we’ve ever discussed them. We were too busy touching and taking each other to ecstasy. Not that I am complaining—I enjoyed myself over and over again.
