The Real(36)

“We have, but there isn’t a chance in hell I’m dropping it.”

“I have a running affliction,” I said, sipping my water.

“A . . . running affliction,” he parroted, his expression showing he wasn’t buying it.

“Yes, a running affliction,” I reiterated, hiding behind my menu.

Cameron faced the wall in an attempt to hold in his laugh, and I kicked him under the table with my pointy shoe.

“Ouch,” he said, giving me a wary glance.

“You deserved it.”

“So, tell me, how long have people been calling an ambulance when that happens?”

“Cameron,” I warned as he burst into another fit of laughter. “You’re such an ass. I’ve been made fun of for the way I run my whole life.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, sobering. “Well, have no fear, beautiful. Running just so happens to be one of the things I’m good at.”

“So you’ve told me,” I said, pretending to scan my menu. “Some of us aren’t that graceful.”

“No one is when they start,” he said sincerely.

“I’m a little bowlegged. It’s always been hard for me,” I admitted, my face flaming.

A beat of silence. I didn’t look at him.

“You know with running, there is a posture to it. We can retrain your body.”

That piqued my interest, and I looked up from my menu. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, taking off his blazer. “If you want, I’ll guide you through it. I’ll coach you.”

The little girl inside me who watched relay races from the sidelines and vied to get picked as someone’s partner or just once for Red Rover perked up.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty lazy in the morning.”

“I can change that too. You can run your first marathon by spring.”

I looked at him skeptically. “I doubt that.”

“Then let this be my promise to you. Okay?”

“Okay.”




Both of my hands pinned above my head, Cameron dipped and sipped my neck before he captured my mouth, thrusting his tongue deep, kissing me within an inch of my life. His solid body rocked against mine as he coiled me tightly beneath him.

Everything inside me was screaming for relief as he ground his hips and pressed his erection to my stomach. “Abbie,” he murmured, trailing his palm from the side of my face, down my chest, cupping my breast as he kept his eyes on mine. I could see my breath as it hit his full lips. It was coming out in fast spurts. His hand drifted further, and he paused, his eyes flitting to mine for permission that I gave with silence before he cupped my sex through my leggings.

Moaning out my welcome, he brushed his fingers along the fabric, and I tilted my head back.

“Are you wet for me?” he murmured to my throat as we got indecent on my porch. Reaching between us, I gripped his dick through his pants and heard a grunt while he worked his fingers against me, adding pressure. “Should I make you come right here on your porch so every time you’re at your door you think of me?”

“Cameron,” I prayed.

“That’s not an answer,” he admonished as he made quick work of dipping into my leggings and swiping a finger against the edge of my panties. I twisted my hips before he skimmed a lone finger over the silk covering my drenched middle. He worked it back and forth slowly, toying with me as I ground into him, desperate for friction.

“Jesus, you’re soaked,” he said as he rubbed the finger over the barrier then tucked it beneath. He cursed as he buried his nose in my hair and bit down on my shoulder before he thrust his fingers inside me and began to work them. Gasping at the feeling, I was already there as he began to pump them while I clutched his shoulders. “Someone will see,” I managed to get out, jerking myself against him to chase my release as he pressed in deeper.

“I’m going to come,” I announced as if he couldn’t feel my body start to tremble.

“Let go,” he ordered as he worked me over. I succumbed to the wave of heat that swept over me. He straightened, looking down at me as I convulsed with lips parted, wordless as ecstasy coursed through my veins. Looking at his face only heightened it—his eyes blazing while his jaw pulsed. The strain in his features looked like a mix of pleasure and pain while he watched me crack under his touch.

“Watching you come . . . it’s better than anything I imagined,” he whispered as he slowed his digits and softly kissed me before he straightened my dress. My craving for him was only mildly tempered by the orgasm he gifted me. I wanted more, and I wanted it then. I gripped his blazer and threw myself into a kiss, which he returned just as feverishly. He lifted me so he could slowly grind his rock-hard dick between my thighs. I was already on the verge again while his tongue teased mine.

“We should probably not have sex on my porch,” I said as he worried my lip with his teeth.

I was too turned on to be embarrassed about our little indiscretion, and by the look on his face, he didn’t give a damn, either. But my porch wasn’t the place and the words “come in” refused to come out.

Reluctantly, he pulled away slowly, setting me to my feet before he gave me a tight smile.

“It’s late,” he whispered. “I should go.” He leaned in and searched my eyes. Once he drew a conclusion, he backed away.