"All things are fine in moderation, Saxton. Isn't that what we were always taught?" She winks dramatically. "And I only intercept from trustworthy people. You, little brother, are being a drama queen."
"Is it drugs?" I interrupt, unable to stay quiet any longer.
They both look at me at the same time. Finally, I'm no longer invisible girl. I raise my hand—the free one that is. "Hello, I'm Kambry, remember, party of three. Why don't you just explain and let me decide. Y'all are kind of treating me like a child and I don't like it."
Saxton's eyes soften. He releases my wrist from his clenched hand. "Yeah okay. I just don't want anything to happen to you. Can you understand that?"
I nod, urging him to continue. "Tynleigh used to have this thing back in college. She liked to party with E from time to time, along with a vast majority of teenagers and young adults, high school and college age. It's kind of known for its enhancing effects and heightening party mode."
"Like you would know," she interrupts. "You wouldn't ever try it. You were a little bit of a golden boy back then.
"Shut up, Tynleigh. I just didn't roll with that kind of crowd, or roll for that matter. Don't piss me off just because I didn't party your style."
"What's E?"
"Ecstasy," he responds. "You aren't missing anything."
"Like hell she is! Don't put ideas in her head just because she's in love with you and you're a little conservative in some areas while liberal in others. Let her discover the world her way, Saxton. Your job is to be by her side as she does. Everyone should try it once."
I'm surprised I'm not even mentally fazed by this conversation. I'm more interested than shocked. His head snaps toward her. He's clearly mad she's egging this on, but only one portion of this conversation is really registering in my head. "You've never done it?"
He looks at me, his eyes locked with mine. I have him now. It's that connection we form occasionally where his soul can communicate with mine. I know that's what it is with every cell in my body. Things become very different when we're like this. I open up in ways I've never thought possible. He's totally disregarding her now. "No, I've never rolled."
"Rolled?"
"Yeah, a term when you party on E; like a discrete code. Most would probably mistake it for toilet paper rolling. The ones that are very aware of what it means take it just like when you say you’re getting drunk."
"No girl besides your sister has ever asked?"
"Yes. It's known for enhancing certain . . . activities."
"Why didn't you . . . " I swallow. "Do it?"
"I never wanted to."
Adrenaline begins pumping through my veins, strengthening every vessel in its path. A high is already beginning to form. "Do you want to with me?"
His jaw tightens. He's nervous, a little angry, and there is fear present. I can feel it. His head twitches to the right, as if he's about to tell me no. "Don't lie to me. Don't try to protect me from things I may possibly want."
The heel of his hand goes for his forehead, rubbing circles just under the gelled front. "Just think of every sense or emotion being heightened to the most sensitive degree: touch, sight, desire, happiness. Sex as you know it becomes foreign, and you get to explore each other's bodies in ways you've never explored before; every sensation is new, enhanced," she chimes in.
My entire throat feels dry; the opposite of the salivating I feel like is occurring. "Do you want to with me?" I ask again, wanting an answer.
"Yes," he says, with finality in his tone that has me shaking.
"Me too," I say, relieved. I really wanted him to want to experience something with me he's never experienced with someone else. These moments are few and far between. Sure, it's not honorable to most people to try drugs, but to me it's no different than trying a glass of wine. I guess when someone tells you that you can't for so long, you just want to finally say you can. As long as I don't make a habit out of it, it's fine.
We raise our glasses at the same time, each taking a sip in unison. "Hell yes," Tynleigh says. "This is going to be fun."
The flavor is fruity. It tastes good: just the right amount of sweet with a balance of bitter thrown in. After a large sip, I toast my glass with his. "Here's to forever, baby."
He smiles. "Nothing less."
Saxton
My body feels hot. I want to take my clothes off. Fuck. The music is pounding in my head, clearer than it's ever been before. Either they have a badass sound system or it's me. I don't know what time it is, or how long it's been, but what I do know is that I want her to fucking touch me, and I need more than the sliding of her hands across the back of my jean-covered thighs as she dances to the music in front of me.
My front aligns to her back as it has in a repetitive motion since we started, grinding against her with the beat of the music. Her ass rubs against my crotch for the umpteenth fucking time, making me want to whip my dick out right here. I could so fucking easily, without a care in the world.
Her head falls back on top of my shoulder, her arms rising above her head. My hands slide down the sides of her body, gripping ahold of her inner thighs. "Mmm. Touch me," she says.
My face tilts to get a look at hers. She's grinning from ear to ear, before her hand grips in the top of my hair, pulling roughly to where she wants me. "I said touch me. I just want you to touch me."
"I am touching you, baby," I say as I swipe my tongue up the side of her neck, a salty taste making itself known. Her dress is short; especially with her in this squatting position, opening her legs up more. I can feel her heat; so close to where my hands are perched on her thighs, holding her against me.
She willfully turns in my arms, that beautiful smile still plastered on her face. It's been there for a while. If I had to guess it started growing about thirty minutes after we trashed our empty cups. I was a little worried when I agreed to this, my mind focusing on overdose heavily, but Tynleigh is right. I shouldn't ever assume what's best for her. Instead, I should remain by her side…like this—equally fucked up. I can see she's happy. Most may be the drugs, but anyone that knows a thing or two about drugs knows that E only enhances the emotions that are already there. If she were depressed, she'd most likely be sad.
Her fingers begin brushing against the bare spot at the bottom of my hairline, spurring chill bumps. Her body grinds against mine, pelvis to pelvis before she sways, rolling and moving in that uninhibited way I've only witnessed a few times at most. It's hypnotic, watching her like this.
Her face is flushed, her chest glistening and wet. Her hair is starting to get a wavy texture from the sweat. She moves a little to her left, bringing one of my thighs between her legs. I thrust my hips from right to left; plunging my thigh between her legs further. She uses it as a cue to rub harder against my jeans. I want to fucking strip her bare and watch her do this. She alters position a little again, but this time not by direct choice.
My eyes dart over her head to the male now moving up behind her, his hands taking residence at her waist above mine. My jaw steels, knowing he's touching her and dancing on her. He's clearly fucked up and just wanting to dance, because he's not even looking at her directly, but more so at the floor. It's the only thing that is keeping me from decking him right now; that and the fact that I just want to fuck her brains out as I rub my body on hers inside of a happy, naughty bubble with nothing but skin. The urge to touch her body with every damn limb is becoming immense.
He moves in closer to her when I don't stop him, his crotch touching her ass. My eyes never leave his head, until finally, she forces me to look at her. "Does this bother you? If it does just tell him to move. I didn't ask for this."
"No," I lie. "It doesn't fucking bother me at all. At least he has the decency to do it in front of my face."
Her leg hooks around my waist and one hand moves to my hip, pulling us closer together. I clench her sides, before moving up her back, due to her ass being blocked by another man's jean-covered dick. "I can tell you're lying, you know
."
"Maybe I am. I'll never admit it one way or another. He's not disrespecting me. More importantly, I'm not that guy."
"Yes you are, and that's one thing I love about you. You're jealous and paranoid, even when you don't want to admit it, but it's what keeps me from those same emotions a lot."
Hip-hop songs change one after the other. I stare at her, now remaining still as my fiancé gets dry humped from behind along to the beat of the music. My heart doesn't know whether to beat or stop, even being fucked up, no doubt a side effect of my past. I trust her, and I'm standing here watching, but the fucking past will never completely leave me alone. The last night I was in this exact position, newly engaged, my entire world came crashing down in the matter of hours.
A female walks up behind him, forming a train, and begins grinding on his backside as he grinds on Kambry's. My face is tilted down to look at one beautiful woman that I've called mine for a while now. Her leg drops from my waist and moves between mine again, before her body begins to move in a sensual way. She’s doing more of the movement this time. She grabs my hand and places my fingertips at her collarbone, slipping it beneath the satin fabric, and guiding it along the seam toward the middle of her chest.
My eyes briefly close as the tips of my fingers pass over the globe of her breast. Electricity existing between two conveyors: that’s what it feels like. When they open, the lights begin pulsing with the beat of the music around us. Our eyes meet and something snaps inside. Something I've never felt before washes over me: peace, relief, and all-consuming happiness. But the crazy part— it's coming from her. She made me feel it before the words exit her mouth. "I'm not her, Sax. I'll never be her. I'll never do to you what she did to you, whether in front of your gosh damn face or behind your fucking back. I love you with every single part of me. I can't even fathom someone else touching me the way you touch me."
"It's not fair to you. I'm trying."
Her index finger crashes against my lips. "Shhh. You were hurt. Wounds take time to heal, even when you're nowhere near the cause of it. I'll remind you every day for the rest of our lives if that's what it takes."
I don't fucking deserve her. That's the god honest truth. I will never really deserve her, but she still wants me, even in all of my fucked up paranoia. I grip the back of her thigh in my hand, pulling it back to my waist, hiking her dress up, her middle pressed firmly against my crotch, and then I start to dance, joining in.
At some point you meet someone that doesn't question your trust. She's the once in my lifetime person that I could share her with another man on the dance floor and not worry about what could happen after, because I know deep within my bones that even if I was fucked out of my mind worse than I am, I would wake up the next morning with her right by my side where she started, and that's the one and only reason why I'm putting all of my insecurities aside and taking the plunge to make her my wife, because losing her would the greatest tragedy I’ve ever known.
Chapter Ten
Kambry
My body is loose and my mind is free. I love music, have all of my life, but no music has ever blasted my soul the way it has tonight. The lyrics openly flow through and embed within me, and some part of every song reminds me of us: Sax and me. I think tonight I finally got through to him— how serious I am about us. I'm not going to go as far as to say I liked another man dancing on me, but I think it was a step taken for us, and something we desperately needed.
I knew deep down he still worried that I'll betray him. I'd probably be in the same position if I were him, but the one thing I want is to earn his trust. When he looked at me, I bared my soul without words; hoping deep down it would work. I've never really understood the whole soul mate thing. It just made no sense to me, sounding farfetched that one person could be your chosen one for all of eternity. I'm a home-grown church-goer, a believer in the unseen, and am a supporter of spending a life with one person at a time, but the whole concept of one person actually being made for you specifically was a little of a stretch even for me. But now, I don't know, maybe it's real.
His hand begins to migrate up my thigh, underneath my dress. We've been dancing for a while, our bodies covered in sweat. I'm a little relieved ole boy finally turned around to take advantage of the short skirt at his tail, because even though I didn't admit it, it made me uncomfortable to have him so intimately close.
Saxton's fingers wrap around the small strip of fabric that makes up the waist of my thong, trying to pull it down. "I want you so bad right now. Why do I want you so fucking bad all of the time? Kambry, this can't be normal, going from the inability to get up naturally to a near constant hard-on and thinking about sex around the clock."
"Who wants to be normal when we have this?" I ask in a whisper, our lips merely an inch apart.
"This is better than normal," he says, and kisses me suddenly without a warning. I moan into his mouth when he digs his fingers into my skin as he holds the underside of my thigh. His free hand wraps around my lower back and he picks me up, my legs reflexively wrapping around him.
Our lips part, even though I don't want them to. He begins to walk through the dark crowd, the only bright light being the strobe light making a show around the dance floor, the rest of the club still dark like when we arrived. He glances around me every few seconds. "Where are we going?"
"That bed I paid all that money for is calling. I’m either going there to be discreet or I'm about to fuck you in front of whoever is standing near. I figured this was the most appropriate option."
"But I'm not even tired . . . "
"Neither am I, but these beds aren’t for sleeping. I guess that can only mean one thing."
"What's that? Marathon until we end up in a sleep-induced coma after sex?" I ask, intrigued as he sets me down on the floor.
"Not tonight. There is no race, but I am going for distance. Tomorrow your pussy is going to be sore."
I finally notice the large man guarding the entry to the bottom of the stairwell we're currently standing at. Saxton reaches in his pocket and hands him a small plastic oval with a number branded on the front. The man takes it and hands him a key with the matching number on the same type of plastic attached, and then moves out of the way of the steps.
Saxton takes my hand and begins climbing them one at a time. "What's the key for? I thought it was just a bunch of beds . . . "
He smiles at me, flashing those gorgeous white teeth. "I suspect you're going to be loud. I reserved the private. Soundproof walls sounded enticing."
My heart begins to race, clenching onto my clutch as I follow him up. I'll be glad to rid of it. Now I understand the need for women to stash things in the band or cups of their bras.
"That does sound a little . . . exciting." My voice comes out in a way that makes me sound winded. I mentally roll my eyes at myself, leaving my muscles out of the equation. I'm such a pathetic girl when it comes to him, and I don't even care anymore. As we take a step onto the top floor—the loft I was glancing at earlier—I notice that more of the beds have the curtains pulled down, the soft silhouette of bodies behind each one.
I glance at one to my right, noticing three shadows instead of the usual two in passing, my cheeks feeling hot. I don't think I could share my man with another woman; in fact I know I couldn't, and I already know I have enough of a man that I don't need two.
I bump into his backside, unprepared for a stop due to my wandering eyes. "Sorry," I say, as my eyes come in contact with clear glass. The bed matches the others, only enclosed inside of a box of glass. "So this is it?" I ask, noticing that the walls are very much translucent. "Won't people . . . " I swallow. "See us?"
He slides the key inside of the small lock under the handle and turns it, before pulling the door open. "Only if you want them to," he says, pulling me inside. "It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary here. This club is known for its extracurricular activities and in house shows for the bold. It’s a very narrow entryway into a world you have no idea exists; and o
ne I kind of hope you don’t want to know more about. It’s why Tynleigh was able to get the drugs so easily, because I know her well enough to know she didn’t travel with them on her.”
“What kind of world?” My curiosity always gets the best of me.
“I was afraid you’d ask that. Sex clubs. And it’s every bit of how it sounds. Cameras I can deal with without thinking twice, but live performance even goes a little far for me.” He takes a deep breath. “But, if that’s an area you want to explore once in your life I would make an exception.”
“Have you been?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“But not as a participant. I’m a porn star. I’ve pretty much explored everything that deals with public sex.”
Surprisingly, I’m very much relieved at his answer. “Someday I may, want to do that I mean, ya know a sex club, because I like doing things with you that you’ve never done, but I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. This, I think I can do.”
He smirks. “Are you getting modest on me?"
"No. I just . . . Well, it's a little more intimidating in a live setting with an audience I would think; having everyone watch your every move as you make them."
He shuts the door and locks it back, placing the key into his pocket, before instantly reaching for the bottom hem of my dress, pulling it slowly up my body. I breathe in and out, waiting for him to get it over my head, only focusing on him. I can do this. We film and we have a Tumblr account now. How much different could this version of a sex life be? My peripheral vision is filled with bodies that resemble ants from up here, but if I can see them then they can see me.
He removes my dress completely, leaving me in only booties and a thong. My entire stomach is sitting in a tangled knot as I stare at him. He outstretches his arm, and seconds later a light sound occurs, pulling my attention away. Every piece of glass is now frosted and opaque, confusing me. I look back at him. "Wasn't that just—"
Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2) Page 11