And now I’m desperate to reschedule my afternoon and break in my new toy with Cam. Mmm… Perhaps I could make time for that.
I know exactly what I’m doing to us both when I abandon the vibrator and lift the second item from the box, holding it up between us with a questioning brow, because all I want to do is laugh, kiss the self-satisfied delight from Cam’s handsome face, and then drag him to bed and force him to introduce me to these gifts.
‘What’s this?’ I say, my voice low. ‘A butt plug?’
He nods again. ‘You wanted to experiment.’ He steps closer, grasping my hips and grinding his erection between our bodies as he kisses me with his trademark thoroughness.
My hands are occupied with his over-the-top provocative gifts—who even knew diamond-encrusted sex toys were a thing?—but I embrace the kiss as always, my pulse galloping to keep up with my filthy mind. When I’m panting, the tops of my thighs slick with arousal, I pull away, now determined to reschedule my meeting and forget. Forget that my life is so work-focused and that it no longer feels like enough. Forget that I’m sleeping with a man I hardly know but I’m too scared to change the status quo. Forget everything apart from the way he makes me feel invincible.
‘Show me,’ I whisper against his mouth. Everything else fades, as if nothing is as important as losing myself in my addiction to Cam.
I hear the sharp intake of his breath.
His pupils are so big I can no longer see the grey of his eyes. His hands fist in the fabric of my skirt over my hips, and he hisses between his teeth, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine and scrunch his eyes closed with obvious regret.
‘I will—hell, I will.’ He breathes hard, his sincerity pouring from him in waves of intensity I’ve only seen when he’s turned on, battling his control to push me into that final, exhausted orgasm before he allows himself to follow. Cam takes my pleasure incredibly seriously, perhaps as if he sees me as some sort of challenge beyond the challenges he sets for me, the ones my competitive nature demands I embrace.
He grips my hips tighter before pushing me away and groans, clearly getting himself under control. ‘But, for now, we have a delivery to make. Are you done for the day?’
My high plummets, the expectations of being immediately gratified and chasing off this edgy feeling hitting a brick wall.
‘No.’ I pout, my disappointment as effective as a cold shower, to be replaced with a flush of shame at the deflated look on his face. Whatever he had planned means something to him, perhaps as much as purchasing a drum kit for a stranger, and it’s clearly more important than getting naked and trying out his newest extravagant purchase.
I fight the heat rising in my face; I was willing to cancel my meeting for sex, but not for whatever Cam has planned? My priorities confirm we’re still very much on different wavelengths where the pursuit of pleasure is concerned. But I can give him time after everything he’s given me.
I mentally reshuffle my schedule so I can spend the afternoon with him, in or out of bed, because I want to see more of the look he wore when he told me about the drums. I want to see more of the real Cam.
‘But I can be free—I’ll just need to make a few phone calls. What did you have in mind?’
Cam smiles and my decision feels right. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ He takes the butt plug from my hand and places it back in the box, snapping the lid closed with a frustrating finality. ‘Want to go on an adventure?’
His excitement infects me with a feeling of lightness, of possibility, of freedom. It’s heady and terrifying all at once. ‘What kind of adventure? I thought you’d planned skiing for tomorrow?’ I breathe through the feeling that I’m escaping my comfort zone emotionally, because I just don’t do this—cancel work commitments, play hooky for the afternoon, do something just because I’m overcome with the heady urge.
‘I have. Heli-skiing—it’s the best way to ski.’
‘Of course it is. And the most expensive, no doubt.’ I smile, because I know by now that Cam lives to the max. And how do I live? I love to ski. Despite all my visits to Zurich, I’ve never taken the time out for one of my favourite pastimes.
My earlier shame intensifies. I don’t have time for pastimes. All I do is work. Mark was right. Not only was I emotionally distant, but I was also absent most of the time.
What is Cam doing to me, and why does it feel both naughty and liberating? ‘So where are we going?’
He must sense my residual petulance, that I’m not entirely happy about postponing my orgasm, because he kisses me, his lips firm and coaxing and his smile both hot and indulgent, as if he’s already thinking about what we’ll do when we return from our fully clothed adventure. ‘It’s another surprise.’
‘I hate surprises.’ I exaggerate the pout that earned me one of his delicious kisses.
‘Because you’re a control freak.’ He softens his reprimand, giving me the kiss I wanted. ‘Trust me, you’ll love this surprise.’
Still, I wheedle. ‘As much as I love the sex toys?’ I lick my lips and watch the flare of heat in his eyes with satisfaction.
Such a low blow…
He laughs and looks down at my outfit: a sharp business skirt and a silk blouse. ‘I can’t promise that. But you might want to change into something more casual.’
Defeated for now, I change, choosing my favourite pair of soft denim jeans and a simple white T-shirt for any eventuality, trying to embrace the surprise Cam has arranged.
With my phone calls made, my meeting rescheduled for seven the following morning, we leave the hotel hand in hand. I’m eager to get whatever this is over with so I can persuade Cam out of his clothes, and Cam is just plain eager, because he knows where we’re going and, to him, life seems to be one big adventure.
When we approach a covered truck instead of the sleek sports car I’d been expecting, I skid to a halt. ‘We’re going in this?’
He said we had a delivery to make, but I was expecting…well, I don’t know what I expected. Nothing Cam does is expected.
Cam nods, climbing up on the footrests to open the passenger door for me.
‘Can you drive this?’ I hide the scepticism from my face, certain he’ll surprise me with his answer.
‘Of course. I’m a jack-of-all-trades.’ He winks. ‘Come on, up you go.’ He guides me up into the cab, his hands helpfully shoving me in by the backside so my core clenches and I can’t wait to get whatever diversion Cam has planned out of the way and head back to the hotel so he can make it up to me, as he promised.
When he’s sitting beside me, his big hands expertly wielding the power-assisted steering to direct us on our way, I ask, ‘So where are we going?’ It’s certainly not lunch on the shores of Lake Zurich or a boat cruise, otherwise why would we need the delivery truck?
‘I want to make a donation. A personal delivery to some very deserving recipients. I thought you might enjoy helping.’ He looks over to gauge my reaction. ‘Don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it up to you later—those toys won’t be staying in the box.’ He chuckles at my obvious exasperation, so I shove him in the shoulder and then slide my hand over his thigh, grinning. His excitement is palpable, infectious, so I almost don’t mind that we’re not back in the hotel room trying out his gifts, and now I get my wish to play Santa with him. I can be his naughty elf…
I’m still none the wiser as to our destination, but I’ve learned that Cam can be bull-headed, so I let it drop—I’ll find out soon enough.
‘You know the M Club organises many