[Kendall]
I lean against the doorjamb, watching him. “So, do you think you could get me Alberto’s number? We could text,” I say dryly, and Camden’s shoulders stiffen.
“You can get it from Elora ,” he barks, and I chuckle but there’s no mirth in it.
“All right. Guess I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Camden turns to look at me, his sea-green eyes intense. “You’re not really going to get his number,” he says, like it isn’t a question.
I shrug. “I think I’m finally realizing what I’ve been missing out on. You never know what I might do. I’m thinking I should strive to be more like my best friend more… impulsive.”
“You’re just trying to piss me off,” he growls, stalking toward me, and I don’t back away, looking up at him defiantly.
“You want me to be yours, Camden?”
He looks away briefly and then back at me. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you don’t want me to be his? Make up your mind, would you?”
Camden’s hand goes around my throat, not gentle but not so hard that I’m afraid. My breath hitches in arousal, in fact.
This man…
“You’re already mine,” he growls, and leans down, sucking a mark onto the base of my throat. I gasp, arching my back, and he picks me up, ramming his hips against mine.
He’s already hard and I can’t help rolling my hips against his. “Tell me you’re mine,” he orders.
“Can’t do that,” I gasp. “You haven’t made me yours.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he says, and yanks down my cutoffs and underwear, sliding it off my ankles while still holding me up with one hand on my throat and his body pressing against mine.
He shifts and unbuckles his slacks, letting them fall to the floor, and he’s not wearing underwear.
I gasp when he slides up into me, gasp out his name.
“That’s right, principessa,” he commands. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good. Not fucking Alberto.”
“Camden,” I gasp. “Just you, Camden.”
He grunts and thrusts into me harder, sliding my ass up against the wall. I choke out another moan, coming around him, and he thrusts into me harder and harder through my orgasm.
His fingers close around my throat, not quite cutting off my air but close, and I come again as he thrusts into me again and again.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands again, and I look up at him, into his eyes.
“I’m yours,” I gasp, my head spinning from lust. “I’ve always been yours, Camden.”
Camden cries out my name when he spills inside me and slowly lowers me to the floor.
“Kendall,” he says, releasing my throat and kissing along my neck, but I push him away, hard. He stumbles backward and I lean down to grab my shorts, stalking to the guest room and slamming and locking the door.
I’m already curled into bed when he knocks on the door.
“Kendall,” he says. And then, several minutes later. “Principessa.”
I don’t say a word, just bury my head under the pillow and cry myself to sleep.
The next morning, I wake early and walk into the living room. Camden’s passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey between his legs and an empty glass on the coffee table.
I don’t wake him, just going out to the pool and putting my feet in the water, thinking. I know what I have to do now, but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to break things off with Camden, but I don’t know how else to do this.
I can’t just stay with him all this time, loving him, wanting him. Not when he doesn’t feel the same way about me.
I have to make a change, even if it’s the last thing I want to do.