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The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(99)

Author:Elena Armas

“Hey,” Cameron said, his voice deep and as charged as I felt. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I thought I whispered. I looked into his eyes. Almost as green as the canopy of trees at his back. “I… I was a little jealous.” My words fell in the small space between our bodies. So small it could be breached in a single breath. “I was jealous of Diane. I didn’t like that she was flirting with you. But now I feel bad for running like that. Now—”

His free hand came to my jaw, his palm warm and fingers stretching to cup my face. “I know,” he said, chin dipped down. His jaw was clenched with an emotion I couldn’t read. “We’ll apologize later, if it makes you feel better.” A muscle jumped there. “I’ll tell her I’m not interested. That I asked you to come up with something stupid to avoid an awkward conversation.”

My throat dried at his words, the closeness, the awareness rushing up and down my body at the feel of his touch. “My excuse wasn’t that stupid.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. Instead, his lips parted and he expelled a soft gulp of air. The green in his eyes darkened and he moved closer, stepping into me until my back fell against the side of the truck.

My heart halted, and I was pretty sure a sound might have escaped at the sensation. The way his chest, hips, thighs, were now against mine. The way every point where our bodies touched tingled and burned. Every nerve ending turned into a live wire. I was ablaze.

Cameron hummed, that large hand that had been latched on to my face and neck climbing down my neck, shoulder, side, until reaching my waist. He squeezed. “It’s been driving me so mad.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Wondering if this was something you wanted,” he answered with a frown. I opened my mouth, as if to tell him of course, how could I not want this, you, it’s wanting it that makes me scared, but his hand moved. He clutched the fabric of my jacket. “That tiny whimper you’ve just made,” Cameron said, voice rocky. “You made it that first night. When I put you to bed.”

I closed my eyes. “I did?”

I felt him release my jacket. Then, his hand was at my back. His fingers splayed, climbing to my shoulder blades, reaching the nape of my neck. “You pulled me to bed, too, do you know that?”

I thought I managed a shake of my head. I couldn’t know. I was too distracted, overpowered, by the sensation of his fingers grazing the bottom of my scalp, tangling in my hair, pulling me to him, my body into his.

“You let out that exact sound and pulled me by the shirt,” he rasped out, the words right against my cheek. “And I had to settle with stroking your hair until you were asleep.”

My free hand shot up on its own and latched on to his forearm. I didn’t have words, I couldn’t even think. So I let myself be. I gave myself a chance. Just like Josie had said.

I pulled at his sleeve, hard, like I imagined I’d done that night. Cameron’s body came over me. Eyes still closed, I felt him, his weight, his warmth, the inside of his thighs coming over the sides of mine. I heard something drop to the ground. And then, both his hands on my face.

“Adalyn,” I heard, the word falling right on my lips. “Open your eyes, love.”

I opened them and for the first time I let myself really look at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, so fierce, so absolutely determined that I felt short of breath.

“I like your eyes on me,” he said, his thumb trailing along my jaw, gently, softly, leaving a trail of tingles behind. He grazed the corner of my lips, and I watched his tongue come out and wet his. “What do you want from me?”

I tightened the grip on his arm. “A chance.”

Cameron’s nostrils flared, but he seemed to hesitate.

“You make me feel,” I heard myself whisper. And I didn’t know if something coherent could come out of me, but God, I wanted to try. “You make me feel like I’ve never felt with anyone before, Cameron. You make me want things I never wanted.”

A groan left Cameron’s mouth. His grasp of my face turned desperate, softer, if that could ever happen at the same time. Hips pressed against mine, and twin sighs escaped our lips. He felt so… big, hard, all over me. And he looked in pain. His eyes dipped to my mouth, frantically, his thumb traveling to my bottom lip.

God, I wanted to feel him. Against my lips. I turned my head. Kissed the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck,” he grunted, something behind his eyes lighting up, breaking out, something powerful and dark.