Wasted Words (22 page)

“Honey, I’m home.”

I laughed and dropped my face into my free hand. “Oh, my God.”

He pulled me into a hug, careful not to disturb my towel or touch any naked skin that would have been considered out of bounds. “Can you greet me like this every day when I come home?”

“I want to die.” I muttered into his chest.

“Why? That was seriously the highlight of my day.”

I laughed again, feeling ridiculous. “Let me go put some clothes on.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Not too many,” he whispered as he pulled away, winking at me before turning into his room.

I felt giddy and a little lightheaded as I dressed in the dim room, hearing him moving around the apartment and into the kitchen. I’d just pulled on my shorts when I heard his footsteps in the hallway.

When I turned, he was leaning on the doorframe in his pajamas, holding my phone, looking amused. “So I found this in the fridge.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Weird.”

“Care to share why?” he asked with a smirk.

I walked over to him and reached for it. “Nope.”

He held it up. “Ah, ah, ah.”

I jumped for it, and he held it out of my reach.

I hung my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Not fair.”

“Why was your phone in the fridge, Cam?” He bent, reaching with his free hand to wrap his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. When he stood, he took me with him. “Come on. Tell me.”

“No. It’s embarrassing.” I wound my arms around his neck to make it a little easier for him.
 

“More embarrassing than screaming like you were in a horror movie and ending up accidentally naked in the hallway?”

My cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

He kissed me, and I melted into him. When he broke away, he nuzzled in my ear. “Please, tell me.”

“It’s dumb,” I muttered.

He pulled back to look at me and smiled. “I’m sure it isn’t. What’s going on? I promise, I won’t think it’s dumb.”

“I dunno, Tyler,” I said, and then it all just fell out of my mouth like verbal vomit. “I just … I didn’t hear from you all day, which isn’t a big deal, don’t get me wrong. Like, it’s not your fault, I knew you were busy,” I rambled, “but I just kept thinking about you and wondering if you were okay, if
we
were okay, and I was losing my mind, so I put my phone in the fridge so I’d stop checking it, okay?” I took a breath.

His smile fell. “I’m sorry, Cam. We were just so busy—”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, seriously. It’s my anxiety, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

“Well, I mean, you did put your phone in the fridge,” he teased.

I tried to smile.
 

He kissed me again and walked me backward toward the bed, laying me down. “Tell me what I have to do, Cam.” He crawled onto the bed, hovering over me, his eyes dark and pleading. “Tell me what I need to say,” he whispered.

I cupped his jaw. “Nothing,” I said softly. “You’ve already given me so much.”

He bent to press his lips to mine and kissed me with intention, with ownership and sweet command. My hands moved down his back, to the hem of his shirt and under. His skin was hot and soft, and I imagined it against mine.

The thought sent a ripple of need through me.

The kiss deepened, mouths wider, breath heavy, more intense than it had been before, feverish and earnest. His hips pressed against mine, the length of him hard against the length of me, and I moaned, flexing against him.

He broke away, kissing my jaw as my head dropped back, his hand splayed across my neck. “Cam,” he whispered, a plea and a warning.

But I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him to know he’d done everything right.
 

I reached down to grab his shirt and tugged —
 
he backed away, kneeling between my legs to pull it off. I was mesmerized by the stretching of his body, the muscles on his chest as he tossed it, but before he bent down to kiss me again, I reached across my stomach for the hem of my own shirt, meeting his eyes before pulling it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my sleep shorts.
 

I don’t think he was breathing — I know for sure that I wasn’t — as his eyes moved down my body without a hint of pressure, only simple appreciation and care. He laid his body down on mine — the skin against skin everything I’d thought it would be —
 
propping himself on his forearms, caging me in his arms. His hands were in my hair, his eyes searching mine. And then he kissed me.

Everything was different than it had been — our hands, our lips, our breaths — the complacent kisses we’d exchanged gone, replaced with fire and need. He kissed me with devotion and promise. And when he broke away and looked into my eyes, I was lost.

He moved down my body, kissing from my neck to my collarbone, settling his chest between my legs. He watched his hands stroke the skin between my breasts, trailing his fingertips along the curve, leaving a riot of goosebumps in their wake. My hand slipped into his hair, my heart aching at the worship of him cupping my breast, his lids falling shut, the sight of him closing his lips over my nipple. I sighed, my fingers tightening with his teeth, his tongue sweeping a circle, pulling to suck.
 

My own lids closed, the feeling so divine, I couldn’t fight falling into him.

“Tyler,” I whispered.

He broke away, but didn’t come back to kiss my lips. He moved farther down my body instead.

His tongue trailed down my stomach, pausing when his lips would close in a kiss, only to start the path again. Lower he went until his long body was mostly off the bed, and he knelt at the foot, grabbing me by my hips to drag me to the end of the bed.
 

I couldn’t breathe, my heart pounding in my chest, in my ears as he looked up my body as if he could devour me. And then I realized that was precisely what he planned to do.

His fingers hooked in the band of my shorts and pulled. And with that one motion, I was completely naked in front of my dream guy.

He didn’t wait, just bent to kiss my thigh as he moved it to hook it on his shoulder, then the other as his tongue circled my skin, high enough that my nerves, rarely touched, tingled at the slightest contact. Every breath sent shocks through me, the anticipation heightening until he reached the top of my thigh.

I drew in a breath and held it for the long second he waited, and when he closed his lips over the tip of me, the breath slipped out of me in a sigh that left me weak to the bone.

His tongue moved against me, tracing unknowable shapes before he would suck gently, then start again, over and over, the rhythm strong and steady. I rolled against him, gasping when he slipped a finger into me, then another, curling to press the sensitive spot inside.

His free hand wound around my hip, up my ribs, to my breast, his fingers capturing my nipple as he flexed his palm. My back arched off the bed, and he moved faster, keeping time with my rolling hips, my heart a frantic metronome as I came closer. But he didn’t relent, just spurred me on, and when I finally opened my eyes and saw his face, intent, eyes closed, buried between my legs, it was too much. I cried out as my body flexed, head falling back, and I came by the grace of his lips and fingers and heart alone.

I sank back into the bed, lips parted, eyes still closed as my head lolled to the side, chest heaving as I listened to my pounding heart. His mouth had slowed to a gentle rocking, and when he broke away, he took a long moment to kiss up my body, finally settling in next to me. I rolled over to face him, slipping my leg between his as he wrapped his arms around me. I opened my heavy lids to look up at him, and he moved my damp hair back, eyes sweeping over my face like he was trying to memorize me.
 

I smiled.

He kissed me.

I could have died happy.

I leaned into him, deepening the kiss, ready to give it back to him, but he pulled back, laying his hand on mine where it rested on his cheek.
 

“You don’t have to, Cam.”

I took off my glasses and smirked. “No way are you giving me five-star oral and not getting something in return.
 

He smiled. “I’m glad it wasn’t three-star. There’s no way I could have lived with myself.”

“No, that was five-star, four-dollar-sign fine dining, sir.”

 
A laugh burst out of him, and I inched my hips closer, closing the space between us to kiss him, and I felt him relent, relaxing back onto the bed as I shifted to lean over him.
 

His hand was in my hair, mine on his bare chest, my breasts pressed against him, our legs entwined for a long moment before I moved down his body.

He watched as I climbed between his legs, bending to settle between his thighs, looking up his long torso as he looked down at me. My eyes closed, and I kissed the soft skin above the elastic band of his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear — I could feel him, rock hard under the thin cotton — and as I licked and kissed gently, I hooked my fingers in the band and pulled until he was free.

Then, I tried not to freak out.

He was bigger —
much
bigger — than I’d anticipated … even feeling him against me hadn’t done him justice, and I prayed to the gag reflex gods that I wouldn’t accidentally puke. Because then I might actually die of shame.

I wet my lips and swallowed hard. And then I bowed my head, hands gripping his waist, and licked up the long line of his shaft.

He let out a deep sigh, and my nerves dissipated.
 

I hitched myself up enough to get to his crown and spent a moment circling it before closing my lips over the soft skin, sucking gently.
 

This time, he pulled in a breath with a hiss.

I let him go, running the tip of my nose down his shaft, licking a line back up, flicking gently when I hit the tip. And when I kissed his crown again, I dropped down as far as I could, fist closing around his base.

One of his hands found my hair, the other clasping my hand on the bed next to his waist, and I pulled up, sucking in a breath through my nose before dropping back down.

“Oh, God, Cam,” he breathed. “God …”

I dropped down again and again, tongue rolling around the tip when I reached it, dropping deeper each time as my throat relaxed. His body flexed underneath me, his breath heavy, and I dropped down deeper still, so deep that my eyes watered. But he was close, so on I went, arching my back, humming softly until he tightened his grip in my hair and on my hand. I knew it was a warning, but I kept going until his head snapped back into the bed, mouth open as he came with a deep gasp.

The power I felt in that moment was indescribable.

I slowed, finally letting him go, and the moment I did, he reached for my arms, pulling me up to meet him for a kiss. It was a long, sated kiss of gracious thanks, and we lay there together for a long while.

When I pulled away, I propped my head on my hand and smiled down at him. “I did it.”

He laughed and reached for my hair, pushing it over my shoulder, his fingers lingering there. “Yeah, you did. I didn’t have any doubts.”

“Really? Because I did.”

“I saw the look of fear on your face and almost stopped you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said.

He slipped a hand into my hair and laughed. “Me too.”

I leaned in to kiss him. “Will you sleep with me again?”

He smiled. “Yeah. But I need you to put on clothes. I don’t think I could stand having you naked all night next to me.”

I raised a brow. “Oh, so that wasn’t enough?”

“Oh, it was enough. But I can’t guarantee I won’t paw you awake in the middle of the night, and I have something better in mind for our first time.”

I laughed, blushing. “I have no argument for that.”

His fingers were still in my hair, working a lock between them. “I really am sorry I made you worry.”

“You didn’t,” I said softly. “I made me worry. You’ve done everything right, Tyler.”

“So have you.”

“I’ll settle down, I think.”

“But not too much.”

I chuckled. “Obviously. Have you met me?”

He laughed.

“Oh!” I perked up. “So everyone from Wasted Words is going bowling tomorrow night, want to go with me?”

“Sure, but I have to warn you — I’m a terrible bowler.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. You’ll see. And while we’re on invitations, I was wondering …” He paused, and my brow dropped.

“About what?”

He looked unsure of himself, which made me nervous. “I was waiting to ask — I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in going, so I just wanted to give
us
a minute before I did.”

“Ask me what, Tyler?”

“I have a charity dinner to go to Thursday night. I was initially going to go alone, but now … well, I was hoping you’d be my date.”

Excitement and nerves and relief rolled through me. “Formal?”

“Cocktail.”

“I … I don’t have anything to wear.”

He looked crestfallen. “Yeah. It’s okay, you don’t have to go.”

I couldn’t stand to disappoint him and smiled, even at the prospect of going shopping. “I’d love to go with you.”

His face brightened, and I felt a million times better and worse. “Thank you. I’d hate to go without you, honestly.”

I kissed his sweet lips, quieting my nerves, pushing my past under the rug, smiling as I said, “Then I’ll be there.”

Tyler

THE NIGHT WAS SLOW AND easy, spent lying with Cam in my arms, talking for a while before we slept, and the next day was like any other, except that I was content, sated in life and body and soul, all together, all at the same time.

I walked in the door of our quiet apartment, knowing Cam was still at work, wishing she were home all the same. I had a few hours before I’d be meeting her to go bowling with everyone, and a small part of me wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself.

I made my way into my room and set down my bag on the bed, realizing I hadn’t slept there in days. In fact, I’d barely been in my room at all, only to change, really. And that was all I did even then, trading my navy slacks and plaid button-down for jeans and a T-shirt, which was the sum of what I needed to do to get ready to go.