“I think I’ll keep them. Wrap them around my cock while I come to the memory of your taste, your sounds, the way your cunt shuddered for me.”
She yanked the blanket over her bare legs. “Psycho.”
I backed into the bathroom. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Her eyes flared. I got the feeling that if she’d had something to throw, she would have.
After a dinner during which Camille wore a constant blush, we spent a couple hours in the library—her continuing to draw while I worked on my tablet. My thoughts kept wandering to the problem created by Mint, Veronica, and the moron. I knew the solution. She was sitting a few feet away from me, a red color pencil tucked behind her ear. But for once, I dreaded making a deal with her. What I needed, only she could give, and I knew she’d make me pay dearly for it.
When the clock struck eleven, I locked my tablet and stood. “Let’s get to bed.”
She jolted when I spoke, her pencil scoring an errant mark down the side of her sketch. “Damn.” She plucked an eraser from the table and fixed it.
“Jumpy? I would have thought you were relaxed from our earlier activities.”
She tossed the eraser onto the table and stood. “Maybe you aren’t as good as you think?”
“Impossible.” I walked at her side toward the stairs. “But are you offering me another shot?”
“Not a chance.” She shook her head. “None of that will ever happen again.”
“What part? You coming on my face, or you saying my name, or you having the best orgasm of your life?”
She covered her face with her hands and sped her pace. “Stop.”
“I was just seeking clarification.” Watching her squirm gave me some of the most enjoyment I’d ever had.
“No, you’re being an asshole.”
“Better than a psycho, right?” I kept up with her as we took the stairs to the second floor.
“You can be both.”
“What other choice names do you have for me?” I shooed her into the bedroom first, then let the door close behind us.
“None that I’ll say out loud.” She hurried to the bathroom as I stripped.
I strode in behind her as she brushed her teeth. Longing flared inside me. She was so close, but unwilling to give me what we both needed. I wanted to hug her, to press my lips to the lightly pulsing vein at her throat. When I’d come up with my plan to keep her, I’d assumed she’d realize she belonged with me after a short adjustment period. The look she gave me in the mirror told me the adjustment period would be quite a bit longer than I’d anticipated.
“Any chance you’ll get naked with me tonight?”
Her crinkled nose told me her answer, though her gaze strayed down my bare chest. My cock expressed its interest, hardening as I stared at her in the mirror.
She tossed her blond locks over one shoulder, then rinsed her mouth and marched into her closet. Fucking pajamas.
“What would it take to get you naked in my arms?” I didn’t work this way, never showed my hand in negotiations. But the words had just spilled out, desire short-circuiting the logic that ruled my life. Impulse—the naked need to feel her, all of her—had exerted its power over me.
She popped her head out of the closet. “You want a deal?” Her eyes narrowed on me, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel in control.
She kept surprising me. Her mortification at the dinner table had drained away, and in its place, cold calculation had taken over. Fuck if it wasn’t hot. But I couldn’t give in. She was an amateur dabbling in an area I’d mastered. Control.
“No.” I shrugged. “I just figured it was about time for you to give in to what you really want.”
“I’ll have to pass.” She disappeared into her closet.
The word “fuck” repeated in a profane litany inside my skull. I stalked past her closet door. One look inside, and I froze. She wore nothing but a pair of lacy pink panties. Her hair hung down her back, the strands tickling her fair skin.
She glanced over her shoulder at me, a devilish look in her eye that had my cock begging me to do something about it. “You sure you don’t want a deal?”
“I…”
My words left as she spun around. Her perky nipples hardened as I watched. Holy fucking shit.
She shrugged, her tits giving a light bounce with the movement. “If you’re sure.” She grabbed her godforsaken t-shirt and lifted her arms to slide it on.
I shot forward and grabbed her wrists. Pressing her back against her dresser drawers, I groaned at the feel of her skin against mine.
“No deal, no touching.” She kicked her chin up at me.
I could have taken what I wanted, thrown her down and done everything I’d been fantasizing about. Only one word stopped me. Trust. Releasing her wrists, it took everything I had to back away from her.