On My Knees (Page 49)

On My Knees (Bridge #1)(49)
Author: Meredith Wild

“Cameron, please. I can’t wait any more,” she pleaded.

“Sure you can.” I kissed the line of her neck, licking and sucking the salt from her earlier exertions. I rocked into her, cursing myself for wanting her lucid when the time came. But I couldn’t be like any self-serving brute she’d brought into her bed since me. I wanted to worship her, love her, and I wanted her to feel every minute of it.

“What are you waiting for? I need you now.” She bucked her hips against me, having given up on the belt.

I breathed in the heady scent of her body with the floral aroma of her hair—one last intoxicating breath of Maya. It had all become too much, and I was losing control. “I want to make love to you, Maya.”

“Then do it, for God’s sake. I’m dying here.”

“I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember everything.”

She pulled me back, capturing my face in her frail hands. Her eyes were glossy, hooded with desire. My jaw set, resisting the urge to kiss her more. Slowly, with every ounce of resolve I possessed, I pulled away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

MAYA. I woke after what seemed like only a few hours. However much time had passed, it wasn’t nearly enough to sleep off the damage I’d done. Soft light poured into the room through the beige curtains. Cameron wasn’t there. I should have taken his absence as a hint to leave, but I was in no condition for my walk of shame back home.

Exhausted and supremely hung over, I tossed back and forth. My legs tangled in the soft white sheets that were my only protection against the violent chills and waves of heat that tormented me. I cursed myself, hating this physical torture I’d brought onto myself. I’d overdone it again. I tried to quiet the self-loathing and prayed I could sleep it off soon. But I couldn’t relax enough to ignore the tight fist of my stomach around its contents and my body’s instinct to toss them.

Flashbacks of the previous night rushed through my mind, and my body heated every time I remembered my own stupidity. I kicked off the sheets again, realizing I was naked. Last night… Oh God. Cameron’s mouth on me. His words last night were framed by an otherwise blurry night of fun and bad decisions. I couldn’t imagine what he must think of me now. I cringed inwardly and another wave of nausea hit. Fuck.

I got up quickly. I found Cameron’s T-shirt on the floor and put it on. I rushed into the attached bathroom and knelt at the toilet. After only a little coaxing, my body finally rejected the night’s libations. I wished the regret would go with them. Breathless and shaking, I rose. I found a toothbrush in its package in one of the drawers and used it to wash away the terrible tinny taste of all the alcohol I’d poisoned myself with. I scolded my reflection in the mirror, wiping the smear of mascara from under my eyes. What a fucking wreck.

I padded back to the bedroom and considered Cameron’s large fluffy bed for a second. Then I dove back under the covers, unwilling to leave their comfort for the outside world yet. Hopefully he’d be gone a while longer. I curled my body into a fetal position, burying my face into the pillow that smelled like him. I grabbed another and squeezed my arms around it, only a little guilty of wishing it were him. I inhaled deeply. A soft musk mingled with the cool subtle scent of his soap filled my lungs. If I hadn’t felt so wretched, I might have considered this heaven. My body instantly relaxed, and I fell into an exhausted dreamless sleep.

When I came to again, Cameron’s arm was wrapped around my waist, his body loosely curled around my backside. By the change in the room’s light and my faint hunger, I guessed it was late afternoon. I blinked away the fog of sleep and the room came into focus again. White and unadorned except with basic furniture, the space seemed plain by contrast to the remodeled bathroom where floors and shower were marble and every fixture shone. I tried to remember what he’d said last night about fixing the place up.

Memories from last night were hazy, but the vision of his body hovering over mine, rocking into me, had me tingling all over again. As if last night had unlocked the most potent memories, thoughts of how sex had been with him plagued me. I kept shaking my head, trying to physically dislodge him from every thought.

His arm tightened around my waist and his erection strained against my ass. As promising as that was, I needed to get out of here and embark on my walk of shame before his proximity clouded all of my better judgment. I shifted, inching carefully from his grasp. He groaned and pulled me closer than I’d been before.

“Good morning.” He nuzzled my neck, kissing me softly there.