“Cameron!”
Before the spasms overtake me, he slides inside me. He moans as my body explodes. With a grunt, he leans forward and sinks his teeth into my shoulder. That sends another ripple through my body and triggers a second, smaller orgasm. He starts to move, and I don’t know if it’s because of the greatness I just endured but…he feels different…better different…amazing different! He slips out of me and I reach down to quickly return him to his rightful place. That’s when I feel it – no condom. He watches me, waiting for my reaction. Fuck it.
“Pull out.”
He nods and I guide him back inside me. He moves slowly, pulling almost all the way out then pushing deep. Oh, God. That fucking piercing! That does it. Only pierced dick for me from now on. Fuck! Calling on what I’ve come to refer to as his signature move, he goes as deep as possible, burying himself completely, and presses against me. I arch my back and grab his shoulders, feeling absolutely, delectably full. I smile up at him when he makes no attempt to move.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s all yours, baby. This pussy is all yours.”
He growls, scooping me off the bed, and I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips. As he moves around the bed, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, clamping his lips around it as he slowly releases it. He positions himself in the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard.
“Oh, you want me to do all the work?” I ask with a grin.
The corners of his lips curl up into a smile, and he smacks my ass. I scramble off him and turn around, straddling him reverse cowgirl-style. As I slide down his dick, he moans. Pulling me against his chest, he cups my breasts as I move back and forth. He massages them, tweaking the sensitive peaks while his teeth graze my back. His hand slides down my stomach and his fingers seek out my clit, rubbing my poor flesh into submission.
“Cameron…”
I take his hand and guide it to my lips, licking and sucking my juices from his fingers. His arm tightens around my waist and, without warning, he jumps off the bed. Shit! I must be a sight, dangling in front of him, but I know what’s coming. Doggy style. I position my legs so I end up on my hands and knees when he places me on the bed. His strong hands slide down my sides and grip my hips as he begins to move. He finds a wonderful rhythm, going to the left, right, top, and bottom. My vaginal walls delight in the sweet assault. Pushing me closer to the bed, he angles down, hitting my G-spot.
“Oh, God!”
I reach around and grab his wrist as I come, tightening my muscles around him as my pussy spasms. He pulls out and I collapse on the bed, feeling his warm cum jetting onto my ass. Wrung out, I watch him as he walks to the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. After he cleans me up, I crawl under the covers and wait for him. He climbs in behind me and pulls me against him. His arm around my waist rests on top of mine, and he toys with the ring on my finger.
“Cameron?” He squeezes my hand in acknowledgement. I turn in his embrace and peek up at him. “Do you think…you’ll ever talk to me?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, they reflect an overwhelming sadness.
“I’m not trying to pressure you or anything but…I just want to hear your voice. I want what all women want.” His brows knit together in confusion and I gather the courage to move forward. “I want you to…tell me that I’m beautiful… to…whisper sweet nothings in my ear when we’re making love. I want you to tell me…” That you love me. “How you feel.”
He turns away from my gaze, lies on his back, and stares up at the ceiling. I can see this is hard for him, too. There have been many moments when he seemed as if he wanted to say something but held back. It only intensifies my curiosity as to why he doesn’t talk. What could have happened to cause it? Did anything even happen, or is it just a personal preference? With a deep sigh, I lay my head on his chest.
“It’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
CHAPTER 18
The rules for parents are but three…love, limit, and let them be. – Elaine M. Ward
Nervous as hell, I sit and drum my nails on the table. Where is Cameron? I hope he doesn’t show up late. That would not be good.
“Jasmine, stop that.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
That’s right. Dad. It’s the night before my graduation and my parents are here…and we’re waiting for Cameron. My dad is watching TV and my mom is sitting at the other end, her feet in his lap. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, her smooth, milk chocolate skin glowing. She turns to me with eyes like mine.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just grouchy. Now, David, behave.”
As usual, he calms down. Mom always knows how to deal with him. Don’t get me wrong; she doesn’t control him, she just knows how to appease him. I don’t think I’ve encountered two people more in love. She’s always called him her ‘white chocolate’, which caused me a whole lot of embarrassment growing up. But I see why she was drawn to him. He’s a handsome man. I can only imagine what he was like back when they met. He’s six feet tall, lean, and has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. His brown hair has a habit of falling into his eyes in a boyish way, but with a jerk of his head, he’ll toss it back into place. I walk around them and sit on the coffee table facing them.
“Before he gets here, there’s something I should tell you.”
Dad’s ears perk up, and Mom looks up from the magazine she’s reading. I’ve already told them all the basics. I just omitted one little detail.
“Cameron…he…”
“He what?” he asks impatiently.
“Dad…he doesn’t talk.”
“He’s a mute?”
“No. He can talk, he just…doesn’t.”
“What?”
“Why?” Mom chimes in.
I turn to Mom and answer her question. “He hasn’t shared that with me, but it’s not really a big deal.”
“How do you communicate?”
“We’ve got our own little system.”
“What kind of man doesn’t talk when he can?” Dad inquires, a sneer on his lips.
“Please don’t do anything to scare him off, Dad.”
“Well, how am I supposed to talk to him?”
“Just phrase your questions so you’ll get a yes or no answer. He’ll either nod or shake his head.”
“Of all the –”
“David,” Mom warns. “He’s obviously important to her. Just give him a chance.”
“Hmph!”
That doesn’t sound encouraging but…I’m out of time. There’s a knock at the door. I shoot one last pleading look to my father then answer it.
“Hi.” I smile at Cameron nervously.
He looks surprisingly calm…and gorgeous, as usual. He dressed up – black slacks and a white dress shirt. After kissing my cheek, he steps inside. I lace my fingers through his and lead him into the living room.
“Cameron, these are my parents, Sharon and David Carter. Mom, Dad…this…is Cameron.”
Mom extends her hand first. “Pleased to meet you, Cameron. I’ve heard great things about you.”
With a smile, he takes her hand, placing a soft kiss above her knuckles. She places her other hand on her sternum and giggles.
“Oh, my.” She glances at me, already impressed.
My father clears his throat in irritation. Cameron turns to him and extends his hand. Dad takes it, staring him down, but Cameron seems unaffected by his glare. Time for me to intervene.
“Can I get anyone something to drink? Dad…another beer?”
He nods, releasing Cameron’s hand.
“I’ll help you, sweetheart,” Mom offers.
On the way to the kitchen, I glance back at them, seeing they’ve moved to a far corner of the room.
“What do you think he’s saying?” I ask Mom.
“Stop worrying.”
I wish Chels was here, but she’s at her parents’ hotel doing the same thing I am. As Mom opens a beer for Dad, I grab t
wo bottles of water from the fridge.
“Water?”
“He’s training for an event. No alcohol.”
“He’s quite…large.” She raises a brow.
Yes…yes, he is. I mentally slap myself for the path my thoughts have taken and smile at my mom.
“He’s 6ʹ2ʺ.”
“Mm hmm…you know what I meant, Miss Carter.”
“Mom!” I exclaim in mortification. “We are not having this conversation.”
How embarrassing! She just chuckles and pours herself a glass of wine.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You remember a few years ago…I asked you how you knew that Dad was ‘the one’?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what you said?”
“Of course. I said that he not only had my heart but I knew it was safe with him.”
“That’s how I feel about Cameron.”
“Oh, honey…” She wraps her arms around me and gently strokes my hair. “I’m so happy for you. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you.”
“Thanks, Mommy.”
When we return to the men, they’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching TV.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Everything’s fine, honey. I believe Mr. Jackson and I have an understanding.”
I slump down on the arm of the couch next to Cameron and watch as they raise their bottles toward each other.
Thank you, Lord!
***
“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Mom remarks.
I stand in front of the full-length mirror and study my reflection. I have to agree. Thanks to my ‘allowance’, I not only bought my graduation dress but also Chelsea’s, and outfits for our moms. I twirl and watch as the high-low, chiffon skirt of my floral print dress swirls around me. I’m a mass of color in fuchsia, black, and red. The halter-top straps begin at a knot on my sternum and end in another at my back. Chels’ dress is similar to mine, but hers is a one-shoulder gown. I catch a glimpse of my mom and forget all about my reflection.
“Mom! You look hot!”
The black, A-line, halter dress fits her perfectly.
“After all the fuss that man of yours made over us, we should look hot,” Chels interjects as she walks up behind Mom.
The fuss she’s talking about is the trip to the salon this morning. Cameron picked us all up and took us to get our hair and nails done – me, Chels, and our moms. He’d even made a guys’ day of it, taking Damon and our dads with him to the barber.
“Looking good, Tanner,” I tell Chels.
“Look at our girls, Sharon…all grown up,” Chels’ mom says as she enters the room.
“Yes, they are, Claire.”
Chels turns to her mom. “Mom…don’t start with the crying.”
“I’m not,” she replies as she removes a hanky from her purse and dabs at her eyes.
“Girls! Ride’s here!”
“Coming, Dad!” I shout.
“Okay, Carter.” Chels links her arm with mine. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
Cameron is the first thing I see when I walk into the living room. His back is to me, and he’s engrossed in something my dad is saying. Dad glances in our direction then does a double-take, making Cameron turn around. God, he’s gorgeous. My breath hitches and so does his. He walks over to me and takes my hand.
“Hey there, Mr. GQ.”
He looks good enough to eat in a light grey, three-piece suit, white shirt, and a grey silk tie with tiny blue circles dotting it. Leaning in, he kisses my cheek then turns to the other ladies with an appreciative smile.
“Say ‘thank you’, ladies,” I advise them.
They all turn to me in confusion. I point to him and they shift their attention to him. Seeing the look in his eyes, they blush and each mumbles a ‘thank you’. Next, I consider our fathers, smiling in appreciation.
“Chels…will you just look at our dashing daddies?”
And they do look dashing – Dad, in his dark navy suit with blue tie, and Mr. Tanner, in his black suit with a green tie that perfectly matches his eyes. He has the same build as my dad, only taller. I watch as Chels’ mom moves to stand next to her husband. Claire Tanner is gorgeous. Long, shiny, blonde hair and brown eyes. Her white strapless dress displays her curves to perfection. Aren’t we all just a family of stunning people?
“Come on…we don’t wanna be late,” Dad stresses.
“Okay, Dad.”
Cameron takes my hand and pulls me aside.
“What?”
He reaches into his pocket and removes a small gift box, ‘Congratulations’ written in gold letters across the top.
“What did you get me now?” I open the box and find a key. A key? A car key. No! A car key with a trident logo. Fuck no! “You didn’t…please tell me you didn’t!”
He leads me over to the window and points down to the parking lot. Parked next to my Aveo is a white Maserati Quattroporte with green alloys. I jump excitedly and throw my arms around his neck. Holy shit, he did!
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love it!”
My dad clears his throat behind us, and I untangle myself from him. He smiles down at me lovingly and strokes my cheek.
“Let’s go! You can thank him later,” my impatient father says.
“We’re coming!”
I can’t believe he bought me a car…a Maserati! I just might have to pull something special out of my bag of tricks tonight.
Being the gentleman he is, Cameron escorts both me and Chels down to the limo. Yes, limo…courtesy of my wonderful man. He’s also made plans for later to take us all out to a celebratory dinner. He’s fitting in quite nicely and so is Damon.
I have to say, at this point…life is pretty much perfect.
CHAPTER 19
It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop. – Confucius
“Where are we going?”
We’ve been driving way too long to be going to either his place or mine. After dinner, we dropped my parents and the Tanners off at their hotel, and Chels and Damon have gone off to do their own celebrating. I’m currently curled up on his lap in the back of the limo, playing with his tie and the buttons on his shirt. He tips my face up to his and slowly traces the curve of my cheek. I close my eyes as his lips replace his fingers.
“Mm…” I moan.
I angle my lips toward his and he quickly covers them. Sliding my palm to the back of his neck, I pull him closer. His tongue darts out as I part my lips, and I moan again as I brush mine against his, sliding my fingers through his hair. He begins to harden beneath me, and I shift so I’m sitting directly on his dick. He groans, pushing my thighs apart. When his fingers glide up my thigh and curl into the waistband of my underwear, I raise my hips so he can pull them down. They get tangled in my shoes and I kick everything off in frustration. With my panties off, he slips his hand beneath my dress once more. By now, my ass is getting quite a prodding from the steel monument in his pants. I break our kiss, but just long enough so I can scramble up and straddle his hips. Before I even settle on his lap, he reaches between my legs and glides his fingers along my lips. He closes his eyes, dropping his head to my breasts with a groan. My body responds to him as if touched by Midas. Instead of turning to gold, he makes me instantly wet. As he slips a finger inside me, he raises his head to stare into my eyes. I love his eyes. Actually, there’s not a part of him I don’t love. I also love his mind, his heart…I love him.
“Oh, Cameron. I love –” Oh, shit! Was I really about to tell him I love him? I’ve known him less than three months! He’d probably run for the hills if I told him that. “The way you touch me,” I say instead.
Odd…but I think I see disappointment in his eyes. Did he think…does he want me to say it? Before I can even think, he pulls me in for a punishing kiss. His thumb presses down on my clit as another finger slides inside me. I grab the shoulders of his waistcoat, tuggi
ng him closer. My moans get louder as he sucks on my bottom lip. Oh, Lord…I wonder if the driver can hear me. He’s probably heard worse anyway. Cameron breaks the kiss, pulling me back by my hair. He slides his hand around my neck, holding me away from him while looking down at my dress in frustration. I know exactly what he wants so I pull my dress up, keeping the skirt around my waist. He moans as he watches what he’s doing to me. His fingers curl inside me and move in a ‘come here’ motion. Oh, fuck! Right there…just keep doing that…right there.
“Cameron…”
Then, I hear a voice…someone clearing his throat.
“Sir, we’ve arrived.”
It’s coming from the speakers. Fuck! It’s the driver. I hop off Cameron’s lap, and he chuckles as he watches me frantically try to put on my underwear and shoes. He grabs my underwear and sticks it in his pocket.
“Cameron!” I scold him.
He chuckles again as I hear the driver’s door close. I drop my gaze to his huge bulge and the wet spot on his pants where I was sitting. He follows my gaze and pulls his jacket into his lap just as his door opens. I run my fingers through my hair, hoping no one can tell what we’ve been doing. He folds the jacket over his arm, keeping it in front of his crotch, before helping me out.
I step out of the limo and curl my arm around his. The driver fetches two bags from the trunk, placing them on the sidewalk just as another man shows up to retrieve them. I stare up at the tall building and realize where we are. After he tips the driver, I squeeze his arm.
“Babel? This place costs a fortune!”
He brushes me off because, of course, it’s no big deal to him. The lady at the check-in counter smiles brightly at him as we approach.
“Mr. Jackson. Welcome back!”
He nods in acknowledgement and hands her his credit card. She looks over at me and her smile falters just a little.
“Good evening. Welcome to Babel Tower International Hotel,” she adds as an afterthought. I wonder what they were thinking with the name, considering what happened to the one in the Bible.
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