Challenge (21 page)

“So what are we going to do?” she asks, adjusting her glasses and slumping her shoulders.

My brows arch as I lean down and kiss her. Her lipstick is much lighter than it was when I saw her earlier this evening. She looks more like the Dr. Porter I remember from the hospital.

I pull back from her and murmur, “I want to explore your body.” I move over to the side of her neck. “I want to get to know your curves.” I crouch down and kiss the swell of her chest. “After all of that…there’s nothing holding us back.”

“Okay,” her voice wavers.

“Does that sound all right?” I ask, gazing down into her eyes and needing to make sure she’s up for this. Everything we’ve done up until now has been very tame. I want to make sure this is still what she wants.

She nods, biting her lip and giving me her glorious consent. My hands immediately reach around her sides and find the zipper on her dress. The noise of its descent is the perfect soundtrack to the raging desire simmering between us.

“So tell me, Indie. How far have you gone before? With…others?” I can’t even bring myself to say guys. What is it about this girl that makes me so territorial?

She swallows slowly as I slide the straps of her dress down to her shoulders. I pause my momentum, awaiting her answer.

“I’ve hit a couple of the highlights.”

This makes me smile. “Like what?” The dress drops to the floor.

“Oral?” She says it like a question. I glance down to appreciate her black bra and underwear, my jawbone ticking with desire.

“Giving or receiving?” I whisper against her mouth as my fingers rub along the hem of her panties.

“I’ve received. But I’ve never given.”

This disappointments me. I would’ve liked to have been the first to taste her, but my displeasure isn’t enough to deter me. “Well, I’m not convinced whoever it was knew what they were doing. And in the interest of research, I’d like to be thorough.”

“Okay.”

I reach behind me and pull my shirt off over my head, then drop it to the floor. She sucks in a sharp breath when I grab hold of her knickers and slide them down her legs. I continue watching her eyes, bright with arousal as my hands trail up her soft, smooth inner thigh. I can smell her scent already and it’s beckoning to me.

I turn to sit her down on the side of my bed and take the opportunity to stroke her hair before laying her backwards. I envisioned her hair splayed across my pillow the first time we met. Now I have her, right here in my room, seconds away from having my lips on her body. While I’m stroking her hair and relishing in the feel of it on my hands, something happens. I didn’t notice her eyeing my arousal. I didn’t notice her touching my hips. But I definitely notice when she undoes my jeans and pulls me out of my boxers.

She grips my shaft with her small hand and I croak out her name. “Indie?” I close my eyes, trying to remain on my feet, even though my legs want to give out. “What are you doing?”

I look down and she opens her mouth, but not to speak. Her large, thick lips wrap around me, drenching as much as she can fit of me in her mouth. Once she’s soaked every inch, she bobs her head along the tip. She’s applies the perfect amount of pressure with her lips while her free hand cups my balls, massaging the orgasm building from deep within. It’s perfection. There’s no way she hasn’t done this before. Or maybe I heard it wrong and she has. I don’t know. I can’t think straight.

“Indie.” I cry her name out more forcefully as she tightens her lips around me and quickens her pace. I reach out and wrap her hair around my hand. I follow her thrusts, allowing her to set the pace, and twitch when I hit the back of her throat. I’m a torn man. I want to live in this moment and enjoy what she’s doing to me, but I also want to toss her back and slam myself inside of her.

My voice is gravelly when I say, “You need to stop soon. I’m going to come.” I force myself to open my eyes and watch what she’s doing to me. It doesn’t help. It makes it worse. So much worse. “Indie!” I exclaim, cursing the world for how fucking hot she looks with me in her mouth.

Pulling her mouth off of me, she says, “It’s okay. I’ve always wanted to try this.”

Wait, what? No fucking way. “I’m going to come,” I warn one last time. Right before I tell her I’m going to let go, she drags her teeth along my dick and sucks hard right at the crown.

I erupt. And I think I die a little.

I’ve had tons of women suck me off before. I’ve had a handful of them swallow. But what Indie did…is the best blowjob I’ve ever had.

I’m barely through the aftershocks of my orgasm when I drop down onto my uninjured knee and shove her onto her back. I gaze up at her, spread out on my grey duvet in nothing but a black bra. I want to pay homage to her breasts, but the scent of her is needful to me.

Throwing her legs on top of my shoulders, I waste no time devouring her. Tasting her. Sucking her. Relishing in the hoarse cries she lets out every time I pay special attention to her clit. I find the rhythm she likes, but torment her by bringing her to the edge and backing away, over and over.

I want her to remember this the same way I’ll remember what she did to me.

I sink one long finger inside of her, closing my eyes to stop from blowing another load when I imagine how tight she’ll feel around me tomorrow. I pump into her a few times, watching her hands flit from her face to the sheets, to her breasts as she climbs higher and higher.

My dick is rock-hard again. She is such a vision. And she has no idea.

I slide a second finger inside of her and press my lips to her, flicking my tongue rapidly. That’s all it takes. She explodes, pulsing around my fingers as she comes. Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession as she blinks up at the ceiling a few times.

“Oh my God,” are the first understandable words she’s uttered since I put my mouth on her. “Are you for real?”

Her words make me smile.
Camden Harris is always fucking real, Specs.

I slide up on top of her and kiss her ruthlessly, hoping that whatever experimenting she’s done with oral in the past is good and forgotten now.

“How was that for a highlight?”

M
Y SKIN IS WARM AND
tingly as we lie together in his bed, naked and staring at the ceiling.

“I’m impressed.” Cam’s voice is low and awestruck as he props his hands behind his head. “For someone who’s never given head before, that was like…choreographed excellence.”

My cheeks flush at his compliment. “Thank you.”

“You really haven’t done that before?”

I shake my head and duck beneath the blanket.

“What?” he asks, chuckling and pulling the blanket back. “Tell me.”

I sigh. “Belle gave me detailed instructions once and I retain facts forever.” I tap my temple. “Once I hear something, it’s in the vault. Although, she told me I didn’t have to swallow. She said that if a man’s cock is in a woman’s mouth they’ve already won the lottery.”

He roars with laughter and murmurings of the fact that she has a good point. But I still don’t regret swallowing. I had to try it just once. I was also so turned on, I couldn’t stop myself.

I roll over to face him, tucking my hands beneath my head. “That felt kind of awesome.”

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Which part?”

“Well, both. Obviously. But I always thought giving it would be something I hated. When women talk about it, they sort of make it seem like a chore. But I loved doing it. It made me feel powerful.”

His brows lift with a satisfied smirk. “You literally had my balls in your hand.”

“Shut up.” I swat him, smiling the entire time. “It felt good to make someone feel that good. You really did like it, right?” My smile fades as I wonder how many other women have done that exact same thing to him, only better. Maybe I was crap at it after all.

“I liked it too much. It felt like you were topping from the bottom there for a second, but we got things evened out in the end I think.”

He winks.

I smile.

“This experience was certainly better than my last,” I say.

He groans. “I thought I was clear that I don’t want to hear about you and other guys.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” I wince, recalling the last time in my mind.

It was someone I knew in med school. It happened when we were studying late one night. I didn’t even orgasm before he stopped to grab a condom out of his wallet. Then he threw a big fit when I told him I didn’t want to have sex.

What Camden did obliterates everything that guy even attempted.

“I’m exhausted,” he says, glancing at the clock to see it’s after two. “Let’s get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.” He tweaks his brows at me with sexual promise.

Camden rolls toward me to pull my glasses off my face and deposits them behind him on the nightstand. Then he snakes his hand around my waist and pulls me against him so we’re front to front. I’m breathing in his chest and have no clue what to do with my hands. They’re all awkward and bent under my chin. He arranges his head on top of mine and lets out a contented sigh as if he’s perfectly comfortable, yet I still don’t know what the hell to do with my hands.

“Can we…maybe not…cuddle?” My voice is weak, my body frigid.

Camden pulls back and frowns down at me. “Okay. That’s a first.”

“I don’t mean to make it weird, but I like my space when I sleep. It’s peculiar because I like the companionship of sleeping next to someone, but I can’t seem to get comfortable with the cuddling part.” I’m rambling. “It’s probably something I should address with a therapist at a later date.”

He huffs out a polite laugh. “We don’t have to touch, Indie. It’s fine.”

His voice is flat, revealing no emotion, good or bad, as he rolls over to face away from me. His large shoulders look strong and comforting, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to want to spoon him. I’ve never had to deal with this before. The limited encounters with men in my life were brief and I always left afterwards. Experiences with Camden are new on so many levels.

I sit up on my elbow, watching him. His eyes are closed. “Are you mad? You seem mad.”

“I’m not mad.” He doesn’t open his eyes but a smirk tugs at his lips. “You just never cease to surprise me.”

I wince. “Is that a good thing? I can’t tell.”

His low chuckle is genuine. “It’s a good thing. I just hope you like surprises, too.”

My brows rise. His words sound ominous. And promising. And his tone is decidedly sexual. After all this spontaneity, I’m not sure how this night can be topped. I roll over and exhale with relief.

I don’t think he’s mad. He gets my weirdness. I feel better. And sated. And venturing on happy.

I think I picked a great Penis Number One.