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“Does it matter how high as long as I tongue feck your pussy?”
“Ooohhh, you’re Scottish again,” I say, sarcasm thick, as I throw my arms wide and roll my eyes.
A chill radiates from him, suggesting Camdyn’s more heartless than I fathom. And again, he’s changed into another Cam right in front of my eyes. My gander travels the length of his faded jeans and jacket. I zero in on the thick chain tucked into his flannel. I reach for it, clasping a pendant emblazoned with a huge skull and wings. When I look up, Camdyn’s caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s staring at me, sexy and calculating.
“That’s huge, Cam. You shooting an old-school music video?”
He tucks it back in. “It’s where I hide my coke.”
I roll my eyes at the dark joke. “Will you keep me safe? Because it’s nothing for me to sneak into my mom’s care facility tonight.”
A tender kiss brushes my stiff lips, and Camdyn exhales heavily. “It’s your birthday, Willow.”
“In a couple of hours.”
While gingerly placing the helmet on my head, he clasps the sides and reaches in for another titillating taste of my mouth. Camdyn murmurs, “I’ll protect ye, promise.”
My lips tip upward, and my hesitation fades as I watch Camdyn slip on his skull helmet and straddle the motorcycle. Sliding behind him feels like placing a pesky puzzle in the correct slot after attempting to jam it in a hundred different locations. Like I’ve been through hell, but I belong. Wrapping my arms around his fit physique, the twinge at the pit of my stomach dissolves.
* * *
Trust. It’s a decision we all make. I’m walking into darkness and wonder if I actually made the right decision. Sometimes seeing is believing.
Sensing my trepidation, Camdyn tightens his fingers around my hand. “I got ya.”
He seems to see me, even in utter darkness. His lips brush my earlobe. The soft kiss sends tendrils of desire down my spine.
“How much longer?” I ask.
“Almost there, promise.”
Again, uncertainty bulldozes through my body. For a man who’s never dished out a single pledge, he’d given them all tonight. Maybe he trusts me too? Maybe he will give me his heart when I unlock my legs and let him venture to a place no other has been before?
All of a sudden, light burns my retinas. I run my finger over my eyes, careful not to touch the mascara. I hadn’t applied eyeshadow, just mascara and lip gloss.
I glance around the foggy, post-apocalyptic club. Before a cage, girls straddle the necks of guys, screaming with cash in their fisted hands. To the other corner, there’s music and dancing. The faces are familiar. The DuPont chicks are dressed in outrageously expensive shoes and scraps of expensive material here and there. Something’s in all of their hands, too—another guy, girl, or solo cup.
“We’re partying with DuPont students?” My eyebrow rises. Disappointment washes into my bloodstream.
Camdyn’s hand snakes around me, forcing me to straddle his muscular waist. “Feck your angry face. I wanna be baws deep in you so bad.”
My head slides to the left of his lips. The assault on my ass sends a sharp pant through me. Camdyn latches onto my mouth, kissing me dizzy.
“You’re so special,” he groans into my mouth. Heat floods my cheeks, and the same intense warmth seeps into my heart. “Never forget that, Willow.”
A cheesy grin rockets the length of my mouth and cheeks. “Never,” I vow.
While Camdyn’s affectionate, I’ve a trifling worry that I’m in his fishbowl again. Except, he’s here too, swimming with me. I like that—us together.
“C’mon,” a feminine rasp breaks between us. “Let the girl go, American.”
I glance over and down from the safety of Camdyn’s arms to a chick who’s much darker than me. She has kinks of gorgeous hair and tight eyes. She’s not a DuPont kid, wearing no-name brand jeans and a zipper hoodie with a black fist. The jacket is open, though, showing her six-pack and sports bra.
I mutter, “Who’s American? Aren’t we all?”
Camdyn paws my ass before slinking me down on my own two feet.
“This asshat,” the girls says, “was born in Northern Scotland. Clan MacKenzie.”
