**Holden**
There have been five minutes left in this fucking class for the past two hours and I’m damn near ready to lose my shit. I had to force myself to come to class today, then I had to force myself to stay in class, and now I’m having to force myself to stay here for the next five minutes. Tiny eons. Massive eons.
It was all pointless anyway. Sure, my name is on the attendance record, but I didn’t learn anything or pay attention to a single thing the prof said. My mind has been on Cameron and how she’s doing, and the kid and how he’s doing at his new school. That feisty little shit better be having the time of his life in that new school, nerding out and showing all the other kids he’s the most brilliant son of a bitch around. Wish I could say the same.
My phone vibrates in my pocket; I peek at it and see that it’s Cameron calling.
Fuck it, five minutes or not, I’m leaving. I grab my shit and rush out of the lecture hall to pick up the call.
“Cameron,” I answer.
“Holden,” she responds.
The familiarity of this way of greeting each other has my blood rushing with temptation and calming with comfort; it’s a fucked-up concoction, but it means she’s okay, and the ball is now in my court to punish her for lying.
“Do you have an afternoon class?” she asks.
“No.” It’s the truth, but I have a shit ton of work I need to get done for my job. I’m not telling her that, though or she’ll block me out again.
“Meet me at home after your class?” There’s a hint of mischief in her voice.
“Already on my way, love.” I hang up on her so I can get to her faster. And so that she can’t scold me for leaving early. Nothing I love more than a bit of reprimanding from my girl, but right now, I want to be the one doling out the consequences of lying.
The five-minute drive to the apartment takes as long as the last five minutes of class, but as I open the door to our apartment, my stomach gets all filled up with butterflies and my legs get tingly.
Why? Calm down, body. We’re just going to confront her.
I’ve never had a real reason to get mad at Cameron before. How do I react? I’ve never had a girlfriend, I’ve never been in a relationship, and I’ve never really given a shit about someone lying to me. This is all new to me, and a part of me is wondering how Cameron is expecting me to react. She’s smart enough to know I’m aware of her lie.
I step into the apartment and see my girl leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for me with a wicked sort of grin on her pretty face.
“Holden,” she greets me again; there is definitely mischief in her voice and a bit of trouble in her eyes. I don’t know what it means exactly, but I already like the tone of her mood.
“Cameron.” My Irish accent sounds thick compared to her American one, and once again, I feel like a fool for exaggerating it like it’s going to impress her. I take a step toward her and let my eyes roam the entirety of her small body.
She’s wearing black tights, a white tank top, and that fucking tan-colored cardigan she wore the first time we met in the dean’s office. Goddamn.
Slow down, cardigan-loving libido. We have to get her in shit first.
“You lied to me today, Cameron.” I take another slow step toward her. Predatory.
“I did.” She remains leaning against the counter, a small smirk on her lips.
“What do you have to say about that?”
I take another calculated step toward my girl until I’m within arm’s reach of her. I want to reach out to her so badly, but I force my hands to keep to themselves for now. Her perky tits are poking out the top of her white tank and I notice she isn’t wearing the necklace that usually hangs perfectly between them.
Cameron meets my eyes and gives me a smirk. “You look tired, Holden.” Her voice is mocking as she rakes her eyes along my body now. “Getting enough sleep?” She’s taunting me but I don’t know why. I don’t really care why because I love it when she’s in a daring mood, but at the same time, this is my punishment and she’s playing me.
I clench my jaw and refuse to answer her.
“Ben called me a few minutes ago.” She grins again.
My first instinct is to worry about that little shit, but Cameron wouldn’t be smirking if something was wrong.
Fuck off, fatherly instincts. Later!
“Do you know what he said?” Cameron goes on. She runs her fingers through her blonde hair and trains those deep blue eyes right on me. “He said he asked you for money this morning. A few dollars for chocolate milk.” She looks up at me through her thick lashes and I’m starting to wonder what the hell she’s getting at. “Did you give him money?” Still fucking smirking.
“Yeah.” I tilt my head in confusion, hoping she’ll get to her point soon.
“How much?”
“Five dollars.” I raise my brows this time. Hurry up, love, make your point because I need to be inside you.
“Check your wallet,” she demands in a teasing tone.
Shit. Did I forget to give him the money? Is he sitting at school, on his first day, bitching because he couldn’t have a fucking chocolate milk? If so, I need to teach that kid to man the fuck up. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and check the bills to see what the hell she’s getting at. There’s a five-dollar bill in the back fold instead of a…fuck!
“I gave him a hundred bucks, didn’t I?”
“You did.” She grins. “He says he gets to keep it now.” She pushes off the counter and stands half a foot in front of me. “Plus, he got his chocolate milk for free because the school couldn’t break a hundred. He thinks he’s smart enough to play the stock market now.” She runs her hands down my chest and abs. “Holden, I’m keeping you up at night. You’re tired and making little mistakes like this. I need you to sleep so the mistakes don’t get bigger.”
Her hands move back to my chest and then wrap around my neck. She can tell I’m about to tell her I’m fine, that I’m not that tired, and demand she stops worrying about me, so she cuts me off before I get the chance to do that.
“So, I checked your schedule.” Her hands run over my shoulders and down my arms. “No classes this afternoon, but lots of work assignments to finish later. So, that means that after I apology-fuck you, I’m locking you in the bedroom and you’re taking a nap.” Her hands finish at my wrists, and she tugs me closer.
I’m supposed to be pissed at her, but I end up running my hands through her hair and pulling her mouth to mine. “Apology fuck?” I whisper against her lips.
“Yes.” Her breath gets shallow. “Apology fuck.”
I slide the cardigan off her shoulders, and before it even hits the floor, I cup her tight ass in my palms and lift her against my body. She hooks her legs around my hips, her arms around my neck, and her lips crash into mine in an almost violent way.
We fight for control. Her teeth clamp down and she sucks my pierced lip into her mouth. Her tongue runs along my teeth and my primal side gets ignited.
I turn us toward the hall and start to carry her to the bedroom as her fingers run through my hair and her pelvis grinds against me, burning me alive inside my pants. I need to get out of them. She gives my hair a strong tug; the light bite of pain is intoxicating, and I know we won’t make it to the bedroom.
I slam her back into the wall of the hallway, making her moans at the impact, but it comes out sounding edgy and primal, eager and dangerous. She pulls my hair even harder, her legs tighten even more, and her grinding turns into gyrating.
“Why’d you lie to me, Cameron?” I growl into her mouth and when she doesn’t answer me, I pull back to grip her jaw in one hand. “Why’d you lie to me, Cameron?” I repeat the question with venom, just so she knows this isn’t an apology fuck.
She’s panting. Her body is brimming with need and desire, coiled up tight, ready to snap. “I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed of what?” I release her jaw and kiss her neck.
She moans into my ear. “Of being childish.”
I set her feet back on the ground and pull her tank top over her head. My jacket and shirt end up on the floor as Cameron grabs at my jeans in a frantic, needy attempt to get them undone.
“Elaborate,” I demand her to keep her confession going. I need to hear how she was feeling. I think I already know the answer, but I need to hear it from her lips so I can make sure that she never feels embarrassed about it again.
Cameron ignores my demand and tugs my pants down to my knees; I kick them the rest of the way off and then grip her wrists so she can’t tug her own tights off.
“Elaborate,” I demand with more authority this time. My eyes glaring into hers once again.
I watch as her demeanour turns from sex-crazed desire to frustrated embarrassment that I’m making her talk about this shit. Her blue eyes flare and then she shoves me in the chest. I crash into the opposite wall of the hallway. A picture crashes to the floor, my teeth clack together, and my cock throbs at the impact. Holy fuck, Cameron, yes.
“Embarrassed. Ashamed. Naïve. Childish.” She stands there and takes her tights off in a rage, defying me, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “Fucking pathetic.” She unclasps her bra; my eyes focus on her tits that rise and fall with each laboured, angry breath. “For hoping that there might be some explanation to all this, that maybe I got it wrong. That my family loves me, and I can go back to thinking Ivan is the bad guy.” She sloppily slides her red thong down her legs and kicks it off.
“Cameron…”
“But the fucking jokes on me, Holden!” She looks crazy sexy; equal parts lust and anger, shame and bewilderment. Her tether is about to snap, and I’m goddamn here for it. “My family has never loved me, and they never will. So…” She throws her hands in the air. “I saw them, I said nothing, and I left. I lied to you about it! I feel like shit about that, and I don’t know what else to say!” She’s shouting now, her cheeks are turning red because she’s flushed with guilt and embarrassment and…and I fucking love this woman more than anything in the world.
My mind wants to think about how I used to think my family didn’t love me either; I want to comfort her and tell her I know what it feels like. But that’s not what she needs right now. That’s not how I’m going to support her right now. Instead, I’m going to goad her.
I pull my boxers down and kick them off to land near my pants. I grab Cameron by the wrist and force her against my body. “What do you say for lying to me today, love?”
We are face to face, with nothing but tension and craving between us.
She glares. My cock hardens. I love this shit. “Fuck! I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry!” she yells at me.
I give her a grin and grip her jaw one more time. “Never do it again, Cameron.” I wait until she clenches her jaw, the muscles tightening under my fingers as she gives me one curt nod. I wrap her arms around my neck, touch my forehead to hers, and kiss her once. “Fuck your apology sex, Cameron. I’m punishment fucking you.”
She bites her lip.
