“You don’t need to say anything.” Marcus closed his curtain again. “Just passing along some information that may or may not be of interest to you. Nothing special.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling softly as she continued to the back of the bus to join Alec. She wanted to run back to Cam, kiss him, and apologize for not trusting him, but she needed to keep everything in perspective. Cam rejected that woman tonight, but there’d be hundreds of women standing in line after every show, at every club and at every party wanting a piece of him, if only for a night. She wanted a lot more and maybe he’d decide she was too much work. For that reason alone, she kept on walking. Forgetting the long list of reasons why she and Cam wouldn’t work long term wasn’t in her best interest. Tonight was a reality check, one that was a few weeks overdue. Cam stayed true to her, but with his lifestyle, that might not always be the case. If she were smart, she’d remember that and keep their relationship in perspective.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Taylor didn’t mind the motion of the bus at night. Alec complained that the movement made him sick, but she liked the subtle rocking motion and the steady hum of the engine. The size and comfort of her bunk, however, left a lot to be desired. She wasn’t very tall, unlike the guys, but she still felt cramped and claustrophobic.
When she tried to roll onto her back, she couldn’t move and that’s when she felt it—an arm draped over her waist. With her heart beating out of her chest, she twisted slowly to face the owner of the arm.
Cam.
Holding her breath so she wouldn’t wake him, she lifted her head so she could see his face. He looked beautiful when he slept with his dark eyelashes resting on his high, defined cheekbones. And his lips—the way they curled up at the corners was sinful. They should have a warning stamped across them. Smiling faintly, her fingers drifted over the swirling design of his tattoo, starting at his forearm and ending several twists and turns later where his collarbone met his shoulder. As much as she liked that tattoo, she loved the guitar nestled between his hipbone and the deep groove of his lower abdominals even more.
Leaning closer, she pressed her mouth against his chest, kissing him and slowly drifting lower with each press of her lips—once, twice, three times.
He groaned. “Tay, what are you doing?”
Trying to silence him, she pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh…don’t talk.”
He tugged her finger from his lips. “You’re not mad?” he whispered, his drowsy crystal blue eyes suddenly alert and questioning.
Smiling, she shook her head. She didn’t know how much time she had with Cam, but she needed to stop worrying about it. Right now, things were good and she’d enjoy the ride. If they crashed and burned, she’d survive. She always did. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that had happened to her.
Pushing him on to his back, she slipped down his body, her eyes never leaving his. When she reached his boxers, she shoved them down over his narrow hips, her index finger tracing the music notes of his guitar tattoo.
He leaned up, balancing on his forearms on the bed and a chunk of blonde hair fell in front of his eyes making him even more devastatingly handsome than a few seconds earlier. “You’re fucking with my head right now. What are you doing?”
“Says the man who crawled in my bed uninvited.” She rolled her eyes even though she didn’t know if he could see her. Then, she pushed him flat on his back again. Circling her hand around his hard shaft, she slowly guided it into her mouth. Normally she didn’t like doing this, especially since her ex demanded it all the time and it felt like another way to manipulate and control her, but with Cam she actually wanted to taste him, to watch his face as she took him in her mouth.
Groaning as her tongue caressed his rigid length, Cam tangled his hands in her hair just enough to gain her attention, but not enough to cause pain. She let his subtle movements and tugs guide her as she licked, swirled and sucked him into her mouth. He was warm, sweet, and salty, and she couldn’t get enough of him. Some of her friends claimed to enjoy doing this for their boyfriends. She didn’t get it until that moment when every moan or gasp that escaped his mouth added fuel to her already burning arousal.
He lifted his head, watching her movements, his face drunk with desire. “Oh god, that’s incredible,” he said, his words low and barely audible and she reveled in the power of giving him pleasure. His hips arched and she knew he was close. She moved faster, sucking hard and drawing him into her mouth until she could feel him at the back of her throat, filling her. With each stroke of her mouth, her desire increased.