I didn't really think my escape plan through. Yeah, sure, hooking up with Cam was totally amazing, but I need to get the sight of him—sweaty, hard, and thrusting himself inside me—out of my mind. It'd be a challenging task on its own, but almost impossible being that I'm stuck at a party . . . in his apartment. For the next hour I avoid eye contact and conversation, and pretend he didn't just rock my world. I'm not sure I'm fooling anyone, but turning it into a drinking game helps.
Each time he catches me looking, I drink. Every time I picture his face as he falls over the edge, I drink. When I get stuck in a conversation with anyone who isn't him, I drink. Basically, I drink and drink and drink until I can't exactly remember why I left the cocoon of his sex dungeon.
My limbs feel loose and my body buzzes with the energy of a crowded room as I refill my cup yet again. I meander back to the living room as it buzzes and buzzes again. Right on my ass. What kind of voodoo party is this? Shit. My phone. I pull it out of my back pocket, confused as to who could be calling. Alicia and Callie are here, and there's no one else I know who'd try and reach me so late on a weekend.
Despite the fact I'm wearing my glasses, I squint to read the screen.
Preston: Looking forward to our date tomorrow.
Fuck.
Preston: I'll pick you up
Preston: I made reservations at 6
Preston. I haven't thought of him much since . . . well, since Cam's dick entered the picture. Does that make me a horrible person? Shit. It must. Guilt and shame churn in my belly. I was honest with Cam, but what I did wasn't respectful to the man I'm supposed to be dating—exclusively, no less. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really fucked up. I'm not this person. I don't sleep around. I don't cheat. I don't blur lines or technicalities. How can I go out with Preston tomorrow? How can I keep seeing him and not tell him what I did tonight? Shit.
My fingers hover over the screen as I debate what to text back. I could cancel. Call things off. Bail and take the easy road of never coming clean with what I did. Only I really like Preston. He's a nice man. We're the same age. We have things in common. He's respectful. Nice. Safe.
I promised myself to give it a real try with Preston. I've never been open to relationships, not beyond a casual thing, but I wanted to try. This time I thought I could. Preston understood I didn't want to rush things. We decided to date and see what happened. We both agreed we weren't interested in seeing other people, and I hadn't even looked at another man. Until tonight. Until him. Cam. My gaze seeks him out in the crowd. He catches me looking and offers one of his panty-combusting smirks. Fucking dimples. Le sigh.
But I can't blame his features for any of this. I chose to go into his room. I may have had a few drinks beforehand, but I knew damn well what I was doing. And now I have to decide how to tell Preston. He won't forgive this, and if he does, do I want to be with a man like that?
This should be some new record. I fucked things up before they even had a chance to start. Shit. Did I sleep with Cam to sabotage my budding relationship with Preston?
"Jilly!" Alicia waves me over. "There's pizza!"
A stack of boxes balance in one of the party goer's arms before being deposited on a table next to the couch. Someone else yells "food!" and a group of guys practically mow each other over on the way to nab a slice.
"Ladies first. Have some fucking manners." Cam. I recognize his voice through the chaos. My body reacts even though I refuse to meet his stare.
YOU ARE READING
One Hot Night
Romance"You're trouble, you know that?" Fire captain Cameron McClain thinks I'm the meddlesome one, but he's the instigator. His rugged good looks and confident sense of humor should be illegal. Not to mention his dimples. They're partially to blame for...