9. Cameron

CHAPTER 9

CAMERON

No? What does he mean no ?

His dick is so hard, it's pressing his shorts out enough that I can see inside his waistband. I can see the thick nest of coarse pubic hair at the end of his happy trail, and if I tip forward a little, I think I can see the base of his thick cock. There's a wet spot on the front of his sleep shorts, for fuck's sake.

"You can't lie to me, Dom. I can tell how much the idea of bending me over and taking what you want is getting you hard."

"No," he repeats.

"No, what?"

"No, that's not what I fantasize about."

"Well, what is it then?"

What started as a game to get him flustered has become an exercise in controlling myself and not flying off the handle with my emotions. He's right that I don't want to think about last night. I'm embarrassed and angry. Furious. I know Emile was there, and he wasn’t the one here taking care of me when I needed it.

So, yeah, I'm lashing out a little. But the more I say the words, the more the ache in my groin throbs. My cock is dangerously close to escaping through the slit in the front of his boxers—the boxers he changed me into last night after helping me shower. I bet he was a gentleman about it. I bet he averted his eyes, even if he wanted to look. I have a feeling he'd never take advantage of me, even if I wanted him to. Honestly, the way he cares is half of what has me so hard up right now.

"Just… touching you."

Wait. What?

“I don’t fantasize about doing anything that could hurt you. I mostly just imagine what your skin would feel like.”

It’s then that I realize he isn’t touching me. Dom's hands raise to either side of my legs, hovering above my hips, not touching, but wanting to so badly there's a tremble in his hands. Placing my hands over his, I slowly press down until his palms are flat against me. He blows out a shaky breath.

"Show me."

His head shakes slowly, but his hands aren't following what his head is saying. They move slowly, up and down the sides of my legs, then up the back, bunching the shirt. I rip it over my head, desperate to feel more skin on skin. My gut clenches when he grips the back of my thighs, and my cock jerks. If this were some random hook-up, I'd already be feeding him my dick, or vice versa, which is usually the case. He’s straight, or at least was until he got curious, so I'd expect anything that happens between us would be relatively one sided. I'm used to being the giver, and I’m okay with that.

Of course, there's also that he's someone that I actually like and respect. The broken part of me wants to know how quickly I can ruin that. The fact that I shouldn't, the lure of the forbidden, only makes the whole thing that much more enticing.

For that reason alone, I move his hands so they're pushing the boxer shorts higher up my legs. I’m not quite brave enough to take those off, too, but rapidly growing closer to no longer caring what’s right or wrong.

Dom rubs little circles in my skin with a touch so light it sends goosebumps over my entire body before finally letting his fingertips skim higher. The brush along the bottom crease of my ass cheeks makes me whimper, and he steps forward a little at the sound like he’s in a trance. My hips tilt forward, my erection rubbing the middle of his muscular chest. I groan quietly when his massive but gentle hands creep up to palm my ass, pressing me against his body.

He leans in, his breath warm on my skin, and I’m suddenly desperate for his lips on me. My hands wrap around his head, fingers sinking into the soft, short hair at his nape and hugging him to me. A huff of air, followed by the press of his lips, caresses my sternum.

He’s barely touching me, but my entire body is alive. Electric pulses of desire radiate from every point of contact and jolt through my limbs.

His lips brush over my skin so lightly that goosebumps erupt wherever he touches. Hot breath ghosts over each nipple, making my hips buck involuntarily. Dom kneads my ass cheeks, gently encouraging me to grind into him.

“Dom,” I whimper breathlessly.

I’m embarrassingly close to coming in my— his —shorts just from these barely there touches.

“Everything about you is perfection,” he murmurs against my skin. Then he pulls back to look down at my erection digging into his chest. I want to take my cock out and lay it between his round pecs, ask him to push them together so I can get enough friction, and thrust until I come all over his glorious muscles.

Dom’s gaze drags from my needy cock to meet my eyes. His eyes are so dark with desire, I feel like I could fall into them. I answer his unasked question, unaware of what I’m saying or what he’s asking permission for. It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, I want it.

I nod and whisper, “It’s okay.”

Fuck, it’s not okay. This is so not okay.

He either senses where my thoughts have gone, or he comes to the same conclusion at the same time. Blinking rapidly like he’s woken up from a trance, he releases me and takes a reluctant step back.

No. No no no no no no no.

Feeling like I can’t breathe, I step towards him and end up stepping off the edge of the bed. Dom catches me before I hit the floor, and I cling to him like a lifeline.

“Don’t,” I plead. “Don’t run away.”

Dom’s arms come around me, hugging me closer to him. My legs wrap around his waist. He carries me away from the bed, then turns back, then thinks better of it and sits me on the kitchen island. He takes the seat directly in front of me, his hands still holding my hips.

“I need to get more furniture,” he says, finally breaking the tense silence. “Only having a bed in here is dangerous.”

I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m not in a laughing mood.

He’s going to reject me. I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to tell me we can’t do this, that he doesn’t want me.

I suppose I should be thankful he didn’t fuck me first, but honestly, I want so badly for him to give me what I need that I’d deal with the aftermath.

My nerves make me bold. Desperate.

“This works just as well as a bed,” I say, dropping my voice to a purposefully husky tone.

His brow furrows, and I huff out a real laugh.

Leaning back on one arm, I push my free hand into my boxers. Dom’s eyes go wide, his gaze stuck on the movements of my hand beneath the fabric of his shorts. I stroke myself slowly.

“Cam—”

Don’t reject me. Don’t reject me.

I ignore whatever he was going to say and pull myself out, pushing the boxers beneath my smooth balls, and letting him get a very close up view of just how badly I need this.

The way Dom’s mouth drops open, a pained expression clouding his eyes, spurs me on. I make a meal out of pleasuring myself less than a foot from his face.

Pressing my toes into his thighs, I use the leverage to push up, thrusting into my fist.

“I know you want to touch me, Dom,” I say, panting. His dark stare is doing dangerous things to me. Copious amounts of pre-cum is spurting from my slit, sliding down over my fist. The sounds my hand is making on my cock are wet and salacious, coupled with my moans and shaky voice trying to coax Dom into making this bad decision with me.

“Touch me, daddy. Feel how smooth and wet I am for you.”

A rumble comes from deep in his chest, and whatever tiny amount of color there was in his irises is overtaken by fathomless black pupils. His fingers dig into my thighs, and it shoots a lightning bold of pleasure up my spine.

“Oh, God, Dom. Do you want me to come for you?”

He nods slowly, looking completely out of it, like a shark that’s smelled blood for the first time.

“Show me your cock,” I beg.

Dom stands between my legs and drops his shorts. His heavy length falls against the inside of my thigh, and I fucking lose it. My orgasm hits me so hard I have to clench my eyes shut, and I cry out harshly.

I know I’m making a mess, but I just can’t stop. Cum sprays everywhere—all over my hand, my stomach and chest, my thighs, the counter beneath me, and all over Dom’s lower stomach and crotch.

His cock is coated in my cum, and the sight makes me pulse, another few drops of sticky, white semen spurting from me.

“Fuck,” I whimper.

Dom’s face is indiscernible. He’s shocked, that’s obvious. But is he shocked in a good way or a bad way, because he is giving me nothing. He’s standing stock still, looking down at the mess I made like he’s at a loss for what to do.

Not wanting him to be mad at me, I tentatively lean forward and run my fingertips over the generous length of him, spreading my cum up his shaft. Keeping my eyes on his like one would a wild animal, I carefully wrap my hand around him and stroke. His hands come back down on my hips, holding onto me with a gentle grip while he grits his teeth and thrusts into my hand. He grunts, his head falling forward onto my shoulder as his cock pulses aggressively. His hot load joins mine, and his contribution to the mess makes me feel better.

I stroke him through his orgasm, not wanting it to end, fearful of the post-nut clarity bound to hit him any second. It's hitting me, hard. I'm terrified of what I've just done, of the consequences. I like Dom, I don't want him to leave me. I don't want to ruin our relationship or make things more awkward between us. Dwayne and I are finally in a comfortable place, and I've just shot my load all over his brother. I'm in a relationship and shouldn't feel this satisfied by someone else. And I definitely shouldn't want to do it again.

The silence grows awkward. Dom backs up, putting space between us, surveying the aftermath of what we've done. His expression is unreadable while he stares down at the mess we created like he isn't sure what to do.

Determined not to let this cause problems, I reach for a hand towel and pass it to him. He doesn't move. Fuck, he's going to start panicking. How do I show him this is going to be okay?

Reaching forward, I use the towel to wipe the worst of the mess from his lower stomach and hip. His cock dangles heavily between his legs, looking menacing even in its flaccid state. It twitches when I swipe the towel up the inside of his thigh.

"See? Like nothing happened." I try to keep my voice soft and steady, but it comes out a bit hoarser than I intend. Now is not the time to get emotional! But when he slowly nods his head, accepting my words to dismiss what just happened between us, my throat clogs and heat builds behind my eyes.

Fuck, I'm so stupid.

This happens every time. It's why I only used to rely on random hookups, so I didn't have to see them afterwards or worry about the inevitable rejection. Emile was the first guy in a long time to see something in me, to want more than a quick hookup. He saw my talent and wanted it more than he wanted my body. At least at first, but he stuck around, and that's what really counts.

Shame heats my skin. All I'd wanted was to make myself feel better, and it worked for a moment, but now I have to live with the consequences of what I've done. I've cheated on the only man to stay, and I've coerced a good man into doing something he clearly regrets.

Clearing my throat, I clean myself up the best I can with the already saturated towel and jump down from the counter. Dom backs up, but I'm still far too close to him. I have to crane my neck back to look him in the eye. Plastering a reassuring smile on my face, I pat his chest, resisting the urge to bury my face there and hope he does something else stupid, like hold me. I've already pushed him far enough today. There'd be no coming back from that.

"Thanks for taking care of me," I say airily. As if this whole thing was transactional, a service in exchange for a kind deed.

I don't bother grabbing my soiled clothes from the bathroom. My wallet and keys are sitting on the kitchen island, less than two feet from where my ass was planted against the polished concrete minutes ago. I head straight to the studio, locking the door behind me. I know Dom has a key, so he can get in if he wants to. Dwayne told me he gave him a spare in case I needed it, and I know it's what he's been using to sneak out after watching me dance at night. I should put a stop to that.

That’s a problem for another day. Right now, I need a moment to lick my wounds and put myself back together.