Ain't That a Kick in the Head (Camren)

Chapter 8

Lauren nearly choked when Camila's fingers slipped under the red waistband of her shorts. She staggered back into the shower wall-temporarily blinded by the sun-and jammed her heel into the wooden slats. Camila chuckled against her throat and dragged a single finger up Lauren's side. It left a pale path in the sun-darkened skin.

She consciously lingered on one of Lauren's scars, and Lauren shook her head and tipped unsteadily forward for Camila's lips again.

They were gritty and soaked and pressed up against the splintery wall of an outdoor shower, but Lauren was one breathy little moan away from pulling on the knot of Camila's bikini and dropping to her knees.

Her own shorts were twisted sideways, and she was pretty sure her rashguard was lying in a wet pile on the beach.

"I love your hair." Lauren rumbled, twisting so that Camila was the one pressed against the wooden shower slats.

Camila chuckled against her mouth. "I know."

Lauren dragged her fingers through the dark, tangled locks. Camila's hair smelled like saltwater, curly and wild. Lauren's fingers caught in a knot and Camila hummed at the feeling.

"You should...take this off." Lauren breathed. She ran her thumbs along the strap of Camila's bikini.

"Niall's going to barge in."

Lauren shook her head. "He's...building something. Or doing something."

"Then Normani. Or Louis."

Camila stared up at the sky to catch her breath. She kept her hands on Lauren's sides-warm and slightly sticky from the ocean-and groaned lowly when Lauren's mouth dropped to her collarbone.

"They'll knock." Lauren said thickly, staring at the red marks she'd trailed down Camila's neck.

She decided it was worth the sand in her mouth, the grit between her teeth.

"Okay!" Camila declared when Lauren's fingers slid smoothly under her bikini strap. She knocked her elbows into the wall in her haste to seize Lauren's wrists. "O-okay. Just-let's-we need to stop."

Lauren stared blankly, chest heaving.

"It's...not..." Camila licked her lips and glanced away, gathering her thoughts.

Once she got past Lauren's thigh pressing against her own, Lauren's fingers wrapped warmly around her upper arms, all she could see was the last time she'd been carried away.

"What?" Lauren panted, searching her face.

Camila couldn't look at Lauren's lips, salt and sun-chapped and swollen, because she'd be drawn right back in. She couldn't look at her slicked brown hair or the skin above or below those faded red shorts.

"Is there something in your eye?" Lauren gripped Camila's chin and tilted her face up to check. "Sand? I'll help you wash it out."

"No, no. I just...need to stop."

Lauren nodded. She let go of Camila's face, but it was a moment before she stepped back because her legs felt too weak to support her weight. She turned on the water for the shower and studied Camila while it warmed.

She seemed to be looking at every detail of the shower-the flip flops in the corner, sand around the edges, trees on the other side of the wooden slats-just to avoid glancing at Lauren. Lauren tipped her head, curious. A little smug.

"You alright?" Lauren drawled, rinsing the sand from her ankles.

Camila hummed vaguely.

"Yeah? Are you sure?"