Cameron
See you tonight then, Zhuri baby
Zhuri
See you tonight, Cammy
This was a terrible idea.
All I’ve wanted to do since Zhuri got here is pin her against the wall and kiss the hell out of her.
But it’s not my fault she showed up looking like she walked straight out of my fucking dreams.
Blue and white striped linen dress that screams summer with a low enough cut to show off those tempting tits of hers.
This is fine. Everything’s fine.
Like fuck it is,my brain says, and I know it’s right.
I’m beyond fucked right now.
“So,” I say, desperate to stop myself from doing something stupid. “Want a drink?”
“Yeah, what do you have, Cam?”
“Beer,” I chuckle, “but if you want a mixed drink, I make a mean mojito.”
Zhuri licks her lips, and the sight already has me half-hard. “I love mojitos.”
“Mojito it is.”
She follows me over to the bar and watches as I make our drinks—I settle on a mojito as well—focusing on everything but my face.
Zhuri is just as fucked as I am right now.
Once I finish, she takes a sip and fuckingmoans.
Jesus fucking Christ, she’s going to kill me.
“This is so good, Cam.”
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s one of the only mixed drinks I can make,” I chuckle before finally looking at her. “Oh, you have a little bit on your lip.”
Instead of giving her time to get it herself, I reach out and swipe my thumb over her bottom lip, gathering the droplet. I take it a step further, though. I hold my thumb up for her to lick the drop off.
She sucks my thumb into her mouth instead.
Well, that’s it. I’m officially deceased. It was nice knowing everyone.
Zhuri releases my thumb with a lewdpop,and the air thickens around us. So thick it’s almost suffocating with all this tension.
Our chests rise and fall with the same heavy breaths, the same fight of temptation between us.
Her tongue wets her bottom lip again, and my final thread snaps, but before I can do anything, my phone rings.
Just like that, the moment has passed.
I take a deep breath and look down at my phone to see a FaceTime call coming through from my cousin.
