My cock throbs in my hand as his words settle, as I remember all the times I apologized to my wife because I woke up hard and wanted to get off but couldn’t—not with her. It’s why I started getting up before Savannah to shower and take care of business so she wouldn’t get annoyed.
Because I was tooneedy.
Nothing to be sorry about.
Just before I open my mouth, I feel the slightest twitch against the back of my hand. My heartbeat quickens. I can still remember exactly what his cock felt like, sliding against my own which doesn’t help my situation one bit. He raises an eyebrow at me, a smirk playing at his kiss-swollen lips.
God, he’s so fucking pretty first thing in the morning.
I know I need to get up and take a piss, and I need to eat, but… the idea of staying in this bed with him is really fucking tempting.
As if on cue, my stomach growls.
“I hope you have food in your fridge, this time,” I say as I regrettably leave the warm, cozy bed.
“Mhmm.” I can feel his eyes on me, hot like a fire. I grin as I head to the bathroom to do my business.
Usually I like to shower first, but I’m starving. So I make my way into Cam’s kitchen and open the fridge.
It’s more stocked than it was last time and I grin. I take my time pulling out items—eggs, bacon, vegetables, and fruit.
I set about gathering all my equipment and start chopping away at the peppers and green onions first, separating the whites from the greens. Cam approaches me slowly.
“I know it’s afternoon, but brunch sounds good, right?” I ask, casting him a smile. His grey eyes stare at me and he doesn’t speak, just watches me intently.
“What?” I ask, spinning around in the space. “Did I get something on me or—”
Cam smirks. “Nope.” The corners of his eyes turn up as he grins. “Just appreciating the view.”
The flush in my cheeks should make me feel more than embarrassed. Am I that easy? Yes.
Yes, I fucking am. But it’s not about the words, it’s the way he’s looking at me.
Like I’m a brunch buffet in borrowed sweatpants and a t-shirt a little too small for me with fucking bedhead and tear-stained cheeks.
The bacon starts to sizzle and I head back to the task at hand. I’m far too easily distracted this morning.
We silently go about working together, me on the stove, Cam making coffee and putting on a movie in the background. The Sandlot.
“Got any plans today?” I ask as I serve him his omelet with fruit. He stabs a piece with his fork, shrugging his shoulders.
“Not really.”
“What do you normally do between gigs?” I ask, curious. When he’d joined me to see Cirque, I was surprised he said he hadn’t seen it before. I thought after living in New York for five years, he would’ve done all the touristy stuff.
I notice the way his shoulders tense, and the smile falls from his face.
“Nothing,” he says, but I know it’s a lie. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to tell me. Part of me wants to press him, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
Savannah told me she saw him in California, out on a date with some guy who was stacked and built like a fucking brick house.
At the time, I wasn’t sure how to take such information, being as Savannah’s never been his biggest fan, but…
I wanted Cam to find someone good. Someone stable, who could take care of him in the ways he needs.
But I also hated knowing he was out with someone else.Because it isn’t me.
The thought makes me tense, but I push it aside. I don’t want to think about Cameron with other people.
