Читать книгу The Book Boyfriends Collection: Wither, Wait For You, The Edge of Never - J. Lynn, Lauren DeStefano, J. Lynn - Страница 45

Camryn wakes me up the next morning adjusting her head on my lap in the front seat of the car.

“Where are we?” she asks, rising up; the sun beams in through the car windows and pools against the inside of her door.

“About half an hour from New Orleans,” I say, reaching behind me and rubbing a muscle loose in my back.

We got back on the road last night after leaving the field and intended to just drive on to New Orleans, but I was so damn tired I almost fell asleep at the wheel. She had fallen asleep first. So, I pulled off the side of the road, leaned my head back and passed out. I could’ve slept more comfortably in the backseat alone, but I would rather be stiff in the morning if it meant I was next to her when I woke up.

Speaking of stiff …

I wipe the blur from my eyes and move around some to work out a few muscles. And to make sure my shorts are loose enough in the front that my obvious hard-on isn’t a blatant conversation piece.

Camryn stretches and yawns and then pulls her legs up and props her bare feet on the dashboard, causing her shorts to ride up far past her thighs.

Not a good idea first thing in the morning.

“You must’ve been really tired,” she says, pulling her fingers through her hair to break apart the braid.

“Yeah, if I tried to drive any longer we might’ve ended up wrapped around a tree.”

“You’re gonna start letting me drive some, Andrew, or—”

“Or what?” I smirk at her. “You’ll whine and lay your head on my lap and say please?”

“It worked last night, didn’t it?”

She has a point.

“Look, I don’t mind if you drive.” I glance over at her and then start the engine. “I promise, after New Orleans, wherever we go, I’ll let you take the wheel for a while, OK?”

A sweet forgiving smile lights up her face.

I pull back onto the highway after an SUV speeds past and Camryn goes back to working her fingers through her hair. Then she starts winding the hair back into a neater braid so fast and without having to look that I can’t wrap my head around how something like that is done.

My eyes keep trailing back to her naked legs though.

I really need to stop doing that.

I turn away and glance out the window beside me, back and forth between it and the windshield.

“We need to find a laundromat soon, too,” she says, snapping the rubber band in place around the end of her hair. “I’ve run out of clean clothes.”

I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to ‘adjust myself’ and when she starts looking down into her purse, I take it.

“Is it true?” she asks, looking over at me with one hand in her purse.

I move my hand away from my lap, thinking I’m getting away with it appearing to be nothing more than making my shorts more comfortable when she says, “That all guys get massive hard-ons in the mornings?”

My eyes grow bigger in my face. I just watch out the windshield.

“Not every morning,” I say, still trying not to look at her.

“What, just like Tuesdays and Fridays or something?”

I know she’s smiling, but I refuse to confirm it.

“Is this a Tuesday or Friday?” she adds, taunting me.

Finally, I glance over at her.

“It’s Friday,” I say simply.

She lets out an aggravated breath.

“I’m not a slut, or anything,” she says, dropping her legs from the dashboard, “and I’m sure you don’t think that since you are the one who has sort of pushed me to be more open with my sexuality and what I want …” Her voice trails. It’s as if she’s waiting for me to confirm what she just said, like she’s still worried of what I might think of her.

I look right into her eyes. “No, I would never think you were a slut unless you went around screwing a bunch of guys, for which then I would be in jail because I would have to beat the fuck out of all of them—but no, why are you saying this?”

She blushes and I swear her shoulders almost come up around her cheeks.

“Well, I was just thinking …” she’s still not sure if she wants to say it, whatever it is.

“What did I tell you, babe? Say what’s on your mind.”

She tilts her chin and looks at me gently. “Well, since you did something for me, I thought maybe I could do something for you.” She changes her tune fast afterwards, as if still worried what I might think. “I mean, no strings attached, of course. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Ah, shit! Why didn’t I see that coming?

“No,” I say instantly.

She flinches.

I soften my face and my voice. “I can’t let you do anything like that for me, alright?”

“Why the hell not?”

“I just can’t—God, I want to, you have no idea, but I just can’t.”

“That’s stupid.”

She’s getting seriously aggravated.

“Wait …” she looks at me inquiringly and turns her face at an angle, “you got some kind of ‘issue’ down there?”

My mouth falls open. “Ummm, no?” I say with wide eyes. “Shit, I’ll pull over and show you.”

She throws her head back and laughs and then gets serious again:

“Well you won’t have sex with me, you won’t let me get you off and I had to force you to kiss me.”

“You didn’t force me.”

“You’re right,” she snaps, “I seduced it out of you.”

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” I say. “I want to do everything with you, Camryn. Trust me! In just a few days I’ve imagined more positions with you than there are in the Kama Sutra. I’ve wanted to—” I notice I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel.

She looks wounded, but this time I don’t break.

“I told you,” I say carefully, “I can’t do anything like that with you or—”

“Or I’ll have to let you own me,” she finishes my sentence angrily. “Yeah, I remember what you said, but what does that mean exactly: let you own me?”

I think Camryn knows exactly what it means, but she wants to be sure of it herself.

Wait a second … she’s playing games with me; either that or she still doesn’t know what she wants, sexually or otherwise and she’s just as confused and reluctant as I am.