Crazy about Cameron: The Winslow Brothers #3(46)

She managed to type with one hand.

M. Story: I am.

Cameron Winslow: Fuck, this is hot.

M. Story: More.

Cameron Winslow: I fall to my knees, the motion sending your panties to your ankles, and I lean forward, inhaling you, spreading your legs, and then . . .

She was rubbing faster and faster, moaning as she stared at the words on the tiny screen, the pressure in her body building, soaring higher and higher and higher . . .

Cameron Winslow: I taste you.

She whimpered again, her eyes rolling back, then opening again so she could read the rest.

Cameron Winslow: I lap at your flesh. I suck on your clit. I lick tiny circles around it until your knees buckle. I press a palm to your stomach to hold you up and bury a finger deep inside you while my lips kiss and suck that sweet little button just above.

Her moans were louder now, and she didn’t care. She was alone in her apartment, and with any luck, he’d hear her through the floor and know she’d never enjoyed a text conversation so much in her entire life.

Cameron Winslow: Another finger joins the first. Your fingers are wound so tightly in my hair that it hurts, but I f*cking love the sounds you’re making so I don’t complain. I lick that sweet honey, f*cking you with my fingers until . . .

“Please. Please. Oh God, please . . .” She arched against her hand, making sure to keep her eyes glued to the screen.

Cameron Winslow: You come against my mouth.

She dropped her phone and climaxed. In glorious, toe-curling, strangled-sound-making, fists-clenched-in-her-sheets perfection, she trembled as her body pulsed and rushed, her head pressed back into her pillow, her feet digging into her mattress, her body limp and sated when she finally picked up her phone again.

The messages had piled up.

Cameron Winslow: Meggie?

Cameron Winslow: You still there?

Cameron Winslow: Baby, are you still there?

And then . . .

Cameron Winslow: Fuck. Was that too much?

She sighed decadently.

M. Story: That was perfect.

Cameron Winslow:? LOL. You’re back.

M. Story: I’m back. Is there more?

Cameron Winslow: Of course there’s more.

Margaret moaned, flipping over onto her stomach, readying herself for round two.

M. Story: Go ahead.

Cameron Winslow: No.

She frowned, leaning up on her elbows.

M. Story: Yes.

Cameron Winslow: No. You don’t get any more tonight. One orgasm per sext conversation.

He was audacious and dirty, protective and caring. And funny. Feeling drowsy and limp after coming so hard, she grinned lazily at her phone.

M. Story: Fine . . . but what about you?

Cameron Winslow: I’m holding out for the real thing on Saturday.

Margaret took a deep breath and held it. There wasn’t a formal commitment between them, and technically Saturday would be their first date. He was expecting sex on their first date? Hmm. Was she the sort of girl who had sex on the first date? She certainly never had been before.

Then again, she’d never felt about anyone the way she felt about Cameron. She was traversing foreign territory with him, and all of it—every last bit—felt wonderful. Maybe it was time to stop questioning everything in her life, and let life happen to her.

Cameron Winslow: Baby?

M. Story: See you on Saturday.

Cameron Winslow: Sweet dreams, Meggie.

M. Story: Sweet dreams, Cam.

***

Notwithstanding Sunday night’s phone sex escapade with Margaret, it had been a long, boring week, filled with tough decisions, difficult phone calls, interminable hours of filing, and endless meetings with English & Sons as Cameron signed the appropriate forms to finalize the sale of his father’s business to his good friends.

Cameron’s only potential roadblock was his siblings, who, in fairness, had never shown any interest in the business. But before he signed the final-sale contract, he felt it only right to share the news with them before C & C Winslow was formally absorbed by English & Sons. He called his mother, sister, and brothers on Friday morning and asked if they could meet for dinner at Westerly, and although Brooks was away on a cruise, his mother, Olivia, and other siblings, Preston, Christopher, and Jessica, all agreed to be at Westerly as requested.

The drive to Westerly took twice as long as he expected because of a monsoon-like thunderstorm, but Jessica greeted him at the front door when he arrived, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek with a smack once they were safely inside.

“How’s my favorite brother?”

“We all know that Chris is your favorite.”

“Wrong. Brooks.”

“Brooks isn’t your brother. He’s your surrogate dad.”

She shrugged, then leaned forward and kissed Cameron again. “I do love you like crazy, you know.”

“I know.”

“You saved the day. You saved the biggest day of my life.”

“You’re my only sister. What else could I do?”

“Alex and I were out at The Five Sisters on Wednesday. It’s starting to look beautiful, Cam. I can’t believe you’re building a winery just for me.”

He put his arm around her and let her lead him down the hallway to the dining room.

“You’re forty minutes late,” she said. “You missed cocktails. Mummy just asked for dinner to be served.”