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“You’re acting as if I haven’t just seen every inch of your body and had my tongue—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” she warns, eyes narrowing.
Throwing my hands up in surrender, I turn towards the door. I wait until I can hear that she’s pulled a pair of my boxers on and spin back around.
“I told you to—” she starts, but I cut her off by closing the space between us and quickly, but gently, slipping one of my t-shirts over her. She weaves her arms through the holes and sighs defeatedly, her hand palming the right side of her thigh.
“You do not have to hide from me.” I grab her face in both of my hands and place a kiss on her forehead.
Scooping her up again, she squeals as I lead her back to the bed. I open a bedside cabinet drawer and pull out a brand new hairbrush with the tags still on.
“Wait… what is this?” she asks, scooting closer to the drawer and pulling it open, revealing a small basket of essentials. Sanitary towels, tampons, hair ties, make-up remover… anything she might need, it’s there.
“Is this all for me?” she asks, glancing at me. I nod my head. “And that?” she adds, pointing towards the new pole I had built for her a few days ago.
“That’s also for you. To have a private space to practice, if you ever wanted. At any time.”
She lets out a sceptical laugh and shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you do this for me?”
“I told you before, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for you. And I meant it. Now, turn around.”
She obeys without argument, turning around at the pace of a snail. I scooch closer to her, grabbing the ends of her hair and gently pulling the brush through the strands. I work my way up her head, being careful not to pull. Her hair is extremely tangled, and I don’t want to hurt her.
“You’ve done this before,” she states, a hint of jealousy in her voice that causes a pang of satisfaction to ring through me.
“My security guard—Ezra—he has a little girl. I spent plenty of time brushing her hair. By demand—of course.”
She giggles. The sound shoots right through me in the best way possible.
I finish brushing through her hair and pull out a hair tie, ready to braid it.
“You know how to braid, too? You’re the perfect man, aren’t you?”
“Only for you.”
I don’t need to see her to feel the burning blush on her cheeks.
The sound of a text message rings out next to us, and Camila’s body tenses up. There’s only one person that would get that reaction out of her, and it’s someone that’s currently on my shit list. My hands spasm with the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck while Jac carves his name across his dick. He’s a sick fuck; he’d enjoy that if he ever found out what he did to Camila.
A quick realisation hits me that I want Jac and Camila to get on together. They’re the two most important people in my life—and it’s something that Jac will have to accept. Once he realises I’m not falling into old habits.
Camila shoots off the bed towards her phone. Picking it up off the floor, she clutches it tightly in her hands. Her breaths come in rapid, and I have a feeling she might toss the phone at something.
Hopefully that something isn’t me.
Finally, she climbs back on the bed, sitting in front of me with her legs crossed. One hand clutching her phone, the other rubbing against the side of her thigh. Tears line her eyes again, but nothing spills. She takes a deep breath and exhales through her mouth, closing her eyes.
“Luke Archer. Twenty-nine. Lives in Oxford. Is currently hunting me down, as you’ve heard. I was with him for ten years before I ran away.” She finishes by placing her phone in my hand. Unlocked and open on a conversation with ‘Unknown’.
Red clouds my vision as the first text message catches my eye.
UNKNOWN: I’m catching up to you whore
UNKNOWN: Run while you can
UNKNOWN: Remember that time I broke your arm? Hahahaha
UNKNOWN: I’m gonna break every single bone in your body for ignoring me
