Savor You (Fusion #5)(25)

He lowers my ass to the ground and covers me now, buries his face in my neck and groans with his own release. I’m happy to lie here for a long moment, cradling him against me, soaking in the weight of him, touching his body during one of his most vulnerable moments.

It’s just bliss. It was always bliss when it came to sex with Camden. But this time is just a little bit . . . different. Not bad. Not bad at all. My body feels alive. Along with the bliss, there’s a longing . . . a sweetness that wasn’t there when we were younger.

It’s better than before, and I didn’t think that was possible.

“What are you thinking?” he asks against my ear, just as the oven timer dings.

“That the brownies are done.”

“That’s a lie,” he says and kisses my cheek, then my lips. He’s propped on his elbows, looking down at me.

“They’re going to burn.”

“Then you’d better answer me quickly.”

I sigh and drag my fingertips down his face. “I was thinking that slow sex feels pretty damn good.”

He eyes me for a moment, then smiles. “Taking it fast, especially this time, wasn’t an option, Mia. And for the record—I’m going to say right here and now, so there is no misunderstanding—this wasn’t just about a quick fuck.”

“That’s not romantic,” I mutter.

“Exactly. I don’t know what will happen, but this is exclusive. I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

Like before, when I was dumb.

I nod thoughtfully. “Good to know.”

He winks and rolls away. I reach for my shirt and throw it over my head as I race to the kitchen and take the brownies out of the oven.

“The edges are just a tiny bit overdone. They’ll be chewy.”

“Excellent. I like them that way.” I look back at him and almost swallow my tongue. He pulled his jeans on, but didn’t button them, and he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Do you have a license for that?”

“For what?”

“For the way you look. It’s ridiculous.”

He laughs and tugs his black T-shirt over his head, making me purse my lips in a pout. “You didn’t have to put that back on.”

“I don’t mind being your eye candy,” he says, kissing me.

“Well, that’s good. Because you are whether you like it or not. It just is.”

“Do you have ice cream to go with the brownies?” He walks over to the freezer and opens it, surveying the contents.

“I’m no amateur,” I reply with a laugh. “You serve dessert while I go clean up a bit.”

He grabs my ass and kisses my neck. “You don’t have to wear pants.”

“I do. I do have to wear pants.”

Now he pouts, and I pat his cheek playfully. “You can take them back off later.”

“Deal.”

I can hear him rustling through my kitchen, looking for serving utensils and plates, as I clean up and throw on clean clothes. I forgo the underwear, just because I’m feeling sassy.

When I rejoin him, he’s plated the brownies with ice cream, and found a sprig of mint to put on the top of each one.

“Fancy.”

He turns and smiles at me. “Why shouldn’t I make it fancy for you? I’m trying to impress you.”

“It might be working,” I reply with a shrug and take my plate from him, leading him onto my front porch.

“This space is great,” he says, settling in next to me.

“I wanted a screened-in porch,” I say, and take a bite of the melty ice cream and hot brownie. “Dear God, that’s good.”

“Make noises like that, Mia, and I’ll take you right here on the porch where everyone can hear you.”

“No, you won’t.” I lean against him and chew thoughtfully. “I wanted the porch to be screened in because I like to eat out here, but I don’t like bugs.”

“Makes sense.”

“Everyone made fun of me.”

“I don’t like to have bugs around while I eat either. I don’t see why they’d make fun of you for it.”

“Well, by everyone I mean Landon, and he pretty much makes fun of me for everything.”

Camden nods and finishes his treat, sets the plate to the side, and wraps his arms around me while I continue to eat. “I make fun of my sister for just about everything too. It’s what we do.”

“I get it.”

“Your brownies are delicious.”

“Yeah, this is turning out to be a religious experience.”

He chuckles and kisses my temple. “You make me laugh.”

I finish my brownie and set the plate next to Camden’s, then sit quietly in his arms for a long moment, just enjoying the evening with him. Once in a while a car will drive by, interrupting the quiet, and then it settles around us again.

“Are you sleepy?” he asks.

“I’m getting there. Let’s sit out here for a while.”

“I’d like to stay.”

It’s not a question. He’s not asking if he can. And I definitely don’t want him to leave.

“You should stay.”

He nods and we sit like this for a long time, watching the neighborhood, enjoying each other. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I felt this content.