Sex And Writing|| 18+ [{Completed}]

14

"God--fuck--Camden," was all I could manage to gargle out. But I made sure to purr his name, let it roll off my tongue like he wanted it to. 

I loved having the power of his actual name. He could be in the middle of cooking or writing, but the moment it left my lips he was on me so fast it gave me whiplash. 

"You should tell your friends you aren't going to make it, you have some bending over to do." My mind shattered, seriously melted into mush. I knew he loved his name off my tongue, but good-God, he knew how to flood my panties.

"Fuck--I can't!" I whined, as his lips traveled down my neck, sucking at my pulse point. "Cam, please," I begged now and he chuckled against my flesh, stopping his lips from moving anymore.

"Well--I'll leave you wanting then," he whispered in my ear, before kissing my cheek. I took a deep breath as he pulled away. Feeling empty without his body pressed into mine, instantly regretting turning him down. I had to collect myself, though. I couldn't be this disheveled out in public, especially in front of the girls. They still had no idea what I was doing with him and I wanted to keep it that way.

"If it wasn't my pussy as you say, what made you write again?" I inquired, curious as to what actually made him crawl from the depths of his two-year slump. It couldn't have been me, could it?

He shrugged, taking a bite of an apple he had grabbed from the counter. Walking toward his computer again like he hadn't just pushed me up against the wall. "You," was all he said, so casually like it wouldn't spark more questions from me. Lucky for him, the girls were already frantically texting me begging me to get there already. 

"You and your lame answers," I grumbled staring at my phone. "We are going to your bar, by the way."

"I told you, you're off to harass some defenseless writer," he quipped, settling back into type. 

"We won't harass you unless you want us to," I said through a grin, turning the knob on the door. "See you at 10?" He nodded and went back to work, as I made my way towards the bar. This time opting to uber. 

●●●●●●●●●●●

"Soo--is he coming??" I wish, I managed to think-- of course in the other sense, with me coming too--but decided to just nod. 

"I'm sure he will be here. But don't get your hopes up, he enjoys keeping to himself. Especially here." I warned the girls who had been hounding me from the moment I walked in the door. They wanted to meet him. Touch him, gaze upon his glorious self, as I got to every day.

"Well it's almost 10, I need to get a glimpse of him before Aaron begs me to come home," Yvette whined, looking around the bar trying to scout my dear writer. 

"And you're sure you haven't boned him yet?? Doesn't he stay with you like 24/7, Merce?!" Amanda asked, staring at her phone again. Her fingers pounding into the keyboard at an alarmingly fast rate.

Ugh. I groaned on the inside. For 2 months I had held my tongue on our dirty deeds. And for 2 months these idiots have hounded me day in and day out about my sex life. He was my dirty little secret, though. No one else's and I wouldn't spread our business around to them anyways. 

“The most action I’ve had these past few months is in my imagination. God--his books.” I gushed again because the more time I spent with him. The more times we did the deed, the better and more erotic his books became. 

I’m not saying I was an inspiration….but---

"Tell me more about my books," I could tell by the dropped phone on the table and how pale Yvette's brown skin had become. He was standing above me, probably smirking like the smug writer he was. "You're not spilling any secrets are you?" I chuckled in response.