With Cam, I lose myself, my inhibitions, and my doubts. No man has ever made me feel as wanton as he does. No man has ever made me feel as much as him, period.
His finger teases my opening while his mouth concentrates on my clit. When he plunges one finger inside me, my ass rises off the couch and a moan slips from his mouth.
“God, Cam.”
He looks at me, and our eyes lock, a smirk on his lips. That cocky side of him is evident even while he pleasures me.
Another finger pushes inside me, and he arches it to hit my G-spot. That’s all it takes before I lose control and I’m grinding on his face, taking my pleasure into my own hands. He continues to push and slide his fingers in and out of me. My orgasm comes like a flash flood, and I feel as though I’m tumbling through the rapids until it calms, then I’m floating on the water in post-orgasm bliss.
He pulls his fingers out of me and licks them clean while staring at me. I sit up straight and undo the button of his pants. While I fiddle with them, he gets me free of my shirt. Soon we’re both naked.
“We’re moving this upstairs.” He carries me upstairs and deposits me on the bed. Going to his drawer, he pulls out a condom.
I take it from his hand and push him down on his back. “I’m taking control this time.”
He lies with his arms behind his head. “No complaints here.”
And there aren’t any complaints when I take his base and sink down on his incredible length. His hands hold my hips, but he allows me to dictate the pace. I come again before he flips me over and thrusts inside me from behind.
This man knows how to pleasure a woman, and by the end, I’m a sated mess sprawled out on his bed. I don’t know what to think when I realize I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in that moment.
20
“I’M NOT SO SURE. SOMETIMES I THINK I PICKED THE WRONG FIELD TO BE IN.”
Chevelle
The evening excursions always have a little more of a party vibe. Especially the bachelor parties.
I see Cam sitting in his boat, watching as tonight’s guys walk toward my boat. There are six of them, and they’ve clearly already been drinking. Cam eyes me and goes back to watching them.
His own excursion group is getting settled in his boat. A group of three couples who probably won’t even fish. Sure, the guys will put their rods in, but the women will sit up front and sip their wine and gawk at Cam. He’s got another guy, Gage, on the boat because Cam knows he’ll be torn in two different directions. That’s the problem with luxury fishing boats like his—they demand a higher level of service, which means more staff.
“Welcome to Reelaxing Fishing Tours,” I say to the guys.
They each look me up and down. I’m used to that. It’s not a big deal. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t handle myself.
“Are you the entertainment?” one guy asks.
I instinctively look at Cam, although he’s far enough away that he didn’t hear what they said. “No. I’m your tour guide.”
“Shit. Really? Girls like you fish? Hell, who’s the lucky bastard who got you?” The one guy doesn’t stop talking the entire time he boards.
Another guy gives me a look of apology, but he’s holding a fifth of alcohol, which means I don’t trust him.
Once everyone is boarded, I catch sight of Cam getting his boat ready as well.
“Let’s go over safety,” I say.
“It’s fine.” One guy waves me off.
“I swam in college,” another says.
“Regardless of your swimming skills and whether you’ve been on a fishing boat before, the life jackets are under the bench. There is enough for all of us. Should you want to wear one the whole time, you are more than welcome. Please do not put your hands or any other body part out of the boat while we’re moving. Once we’re anchored, you may move around. There are drinks in the coolers, and I’ll put out the food when we stop. The excursion will last two hours and fifteen minutes, then we’ll head back to the marina during the remaining fifteen minutes. Are there any questions?”
One guy raises his hand. “Are you this bossy in bed?”
Trying to keep it light, I wink and say, “Only my boyfriend knows the answer to that.”
They all say “ohhh” in unison.
“Then let’s get started. Please remain seated while I get us to where we’re going to fish.”
I go to my wheelhouse and start the engine, then navigate out of the marina. Cam’s already ahead of us. For some reason, I thought he was going to wait for me because he was worried, and then I was going to give him a piece of my mind.
When we get to open water, he turns to the right, and I go to the left to head toward Sandcastle Island. It’s an island that’s not habitable, but a lot of boats stop for their guests to walk in the water and even swim. There’s a good fishing spot, and if it ends up being bad, I figure this group won’t mind partying there.
The guys all continue to drink on the way to our destination, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about me since every once in a while, one of them looks my way. Other than that, they seem harmless, although not one of them is wearing a wedding ring. I like the married guys better because they usually treat me with more respect.
I cut the motor when we reach our destination, and we glide to a spot I’ve had success with in the past. After tossing the anchor down, I get the poles ready and pull out the bait. “Okay, guys. Does anyone need help?”
“Oh no, we’re all skilled,” one guy with a cocky attitude says. I can read the innuendo in the way he says it that we’re not talking about the same thing.
Everything is good for about forty-five minutes. Mostly because these guys are struggling to get their bait on because they’ve all drank way too much. After I’ve gone around like a kindergarten teacher and helped each one, they sit back and relax, waiting for the fish to snatch the bait.
I bring out the food, but none of them are interested in eating.
One of them falls asleep and the rest decide to draw on his face. I roll my eyes because I hate these charters. These are the ones where I’m thankful I have a gun in the locked box.
“This is boring. Did you say something about an island?” the bald guy says.
“Yes.” I glance at my watch. “But we wouldn’t have much time there.”
“Better than this.” He stands and steps on the edge of the boat. “To the island.”
“Please get down before you fall.”
Thankfully, he listens. I bring up the anchor and start the motor. One of the guys helps me collect the rods, and I hang them from the back of my boat.
When we arrive, the island is crowded because it’s a Saturday night and you never know, this could be the last warm weekend of the season. One of the guys runs and jumps out of my boat before I can drop anchor.
“Don’t do that again,” I call to him.
He just laughs and walks up the sand, approaching the first woman he sees.
They each file out with their beers in hand and walk the island while I wait in the boat. I’m busy on my phone, and when it’s time to leave, and they haven’t returned, I hop off the boat in search of them.