Not the Friend with Benefits: A BBW New Adult Serial Romance (Not the Hot Chick series Book 3) (5 page)

Cam stopped beside a double bed and called Layla over. "Sure you wouldn't rather have one of these?" He lay down, making sure his shoes hung over the end of the bed. "Comfy." He patted the empty space beside him. "Try it."

She lay next to him and gazed up at the store's ceiling. "Nice."

"What'd I tell you?"

"But it's too much," she said as they lay side by side, neither looking at the other. "I'd have to get a new box spring, too. And all new sheets."

"It'd be nice though if you ever have, you know, company. An overnight guest." He slid her a look, the gold specks in his eyes glinting. "A lot roomier."

A thrill zinged through Layla, which she firmly tamped down. She was reading all kinds of things into an innocent remark. God, did she need to get laid that badly?

She flashed back to the fiasco with Drew. At the rate she was going, she'd be lucky if she ever had sex again.

She rolled to her side, facing away from him, to keep from looking into his dangerous eyes. Cam turned, too, spooning her. Though they didn't touch, Layla felt the heat radiating from his body. An answering warmth spiraled through her.

She nearly leaped off the mattress.

Then she turned, a plastic smile fixed to her face. "Let's just stick with the original plan, okay?"

He sat up slowly, almost reluctantly. "Whatever you say."

****

"Let me help," Layla said as they climbed the stairs to her place.

"Let me just do it this way," Cam responded. He balanced the single mattress over his head, a hand on each side. "It's easier."

They couldn't get it into her apartment that way, though. Cam lowered the mattress to its side while Layla unlocked her door. She helped him get it inside, into her bedroom, and together they plopped it onto the box spring.

He even helped her make the bed, pulling on a new fitted sheet, tucking in the flat sheet and blankets at the foot of the bed. They each fluffed a pillow into a case.

"Looking good," he commented as he gave the fleece blanket a final smoothing. "So." He cocked a look at her. "You ready to talk about it yet?"

Layla's face flamed as she stared down at the pillow in its fresh white pillowcase, imagining how cool it would feel against her cheek. "I thought we already did."

"I mean about that guy. Doug, or whatever his name is."

"Drew."

"It seemed like you really cared about him."

"I did." But was it for the right reasons, she wondered now. She'd liked Drew because she had found him smart. Fun to be with. A good guy. And because he wasn't out of her league. She had a shot with him, or so she thought.

"Maybe it was my fault, what happened," she admitted.

"That's crazy. Why?"

Because I couldn't be honest with Drew. Because I couldn't put my feelings for you aside.

She couldn't bring herself to share that with Cam. "Jessi told him about you. He wanted to know if we were sleeping together."

"That's on him. He could have trusted you."

"But if I'd told him about you from the start—"

"Why didn't you?" Cam's expression was taut.

"I guess…I was scared. Scared he wouldn't want me to see you anymore." She glanced away, then sneaked another look at him.

Color rose in his cheeks. "When you mentioned him today, I didn't like it. Didn't like him."

"But you knew I was seeing someone."

Cam turned away with a huff of disgust. "
Someone.
Yeah. But when you said his name and all that, it was real."

And that bothered him? Why? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid to ask. Afraid of what his answer might be.

She lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed and jounced a bit. "Feels good."

He turned back to her. "Yeah?"

She patted the space beside her, just as he had done at Budget Mattress. "Come on."

He sat next to her and they both jounced a little. He nodded. "Nice."

She gazed at him and couldn't swallow because her heart had moved into her throat.
And this is your problem, Layla. You're scared of everything. Scared to ask for what you want. Scared to even want it.

Ignoring the fear, pretending it wasn't even there, she grasped Cam's head. With her hands cradling his cheeks, she pulled him in for a kiss. He went still for a moment, then responded, melding his mouth softly with hers, briefly allowing his tongue to caress hers.

Then he pulled back, his face shuttered. Layla's hopes shriveled.

"Okay," she muttered, staring down at her lap. "I get it. You're not interested."

"Aw, shit." He flung himself to his feet. "That's what you think, I'm not interested? Girl, I've been wanting back in your pants since our last hookup. You're the one who said we could only be
friends
, remember?"

Oh, God. He was right. She was a mess. Keeping him at arm's length, friend zoning him, then practically jumping him. Of course he was confused.

His shoulders slumped as he released a long gust of breath. "Look, you just got screwed over by what's his name. You're feeling bad. I'm not going to take advantage of that."

But he wouldn't be taking advantage, and that was the point. Cam was who she wanted, who she'd always wanted, from the first time they met. Oh, she could have been happy with Drew, satisfied with all they had in common. But the main reason she'd wanted him was because she thought she could get him, and that Cam would always be out of her reach.

She'd been brave before. It was time to be brave again. But this time it was about more than just hooking up or shoring up her self-esteem. This time it was about letting Cam know how she really felt.

She stood and unzipped her jeans. "I appreciate you not wanting to take advantage, but I know what I'm doing. And I know what I want."

His eyes widened as she eased out of her jeans and kicked them away. "What are you—"

"You said you've wanted to get in my pants." She shrugged and gave a teasing little grin. "Just figured I'd make it easier for you."

A smile bloomed slowly on his face. "You sure?"

"Absolutely sure." Her voice rang with confidence that filled her chest like helium, making her lighter than air.

"Don't have to ask me twice," Cam told her. They both laughed softly as they shucked off their clothes, casting the garments aside, not caring where they fell.

Naked, he took one giant step to Layla and whisked her close. His arms felt so good around her, cradling her as they kissed. She had to blink away tears of joy. This was what she'd wanted all along.

She wasn't going to ruin it by worrying what might happen next. About setting boundaries or making rules or trying to keep her heart on lockdown. Her heart was already involved, and there was no way now to avoid being hurt. She'd enjoy the ride and later she'd cry. But not now.

Cam was an awesome lover and had always cranked her engine, but things felt different now. Their kisses were slower, more luxuriant as they caressed the inner reaches of each other's mouths, exchanging flavors.

Tingles of need prickled her skin as he gently fondled her breasts while she smoothed her hand along his cock. He sucked his breath in a hiss when she swirled her thumb around the wet tip. "Yeah, that feels good."

"
You
feel good," she answered.

She wanted to make him feel even better. She sank to her knees and took him in her mouth, enjoying not only the delight she gave him, but the pleasure she received from the act. The way he moved his hands through her hair confirmed how much he loved what she was doing.

A minute later he pulled her up, softly kissed her swollen mouth, and eased her onto the bed. He kissed his way down her body, giving her breasts tender attention, playing with her nipples until they were dark pink and hard. Then he trailed his mouth across her tummy, tickled her belly button with his tongue, and eased down to the
V
of curls where her thighs met.

Layla was so worked up, so ready for him, it didn't take more than a few flicks of his tongue to send her flying into orgasm. As she floated back to earth, Cam kissed her deeply.

She tore her mouth away. "Come inside me." She'd already waited too long. "Now."

His eyebrows rose at her vehemence, but he didn't argue. "Hold on."

When he made to get off the bed, she stopped him.

"No, wait. Check the drawer." She pointed to the nightstand beside the bed.

He pulled the drawer open and found the square plastic packets. "Whoa, how many you got in here?"

Her face got hot. "Enough."

"You really had big plans there for what's his name, huh?"

"Don't remind me." A dull pain shot through her as she thought of Drew, but it was soon assuaged by Cam's devilish grin. "What are you doing?" she asked as he peered at several packets and tossed them aside.

"Just making sure you got the right size. Super-jumbo extra-large is what I need, babe." He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

She snorted. "Someone's got a real high opinion of himself. I think you'll find something in there you can use."

He grabbed a packet, tore it open, and together they fitted it on him. She moved her legs wider as he settled between them. "Good to go?" His voice was soft as he smoothed his thumb along the damp crux of her thighs.

It might have seemed a flippant question if he hadn't been staring deep into her eyes. Their gazes locked, and in those few moments, Layla felt their souls did, too.

"Good to go," she murmured.

He entered her slowly, smoothly, and as they moved together, Layla felt no need for fancy positions or sexual gymnastics to get her going. Plain old vanilla missionary position was just fine. Especially now, when she was holding nothing back physically or emotionally. He felt so good, filling her. Her mouth stretched into a huge smile and a giggle escaped her lips.

His rhythm broke and he blinked down at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Tightening her legs around his hips, she urged him to keep going. Even as her skin prickled with excitement, she couldn't stop the laughter bubbling out of her.

He started laughing himself. "What's funny?"

"Nothing." A flash of heat made her curl her hips. "Oh. Oh, I'm coming." She tumbled from laughter into orgasm that quickly, and he soon followed. He slumped on top of her for a few moments, then pulled away. As they caught a glimpse of each other's faces, their chortles began again.

"I make you laugh?" he asked, flopping next to her. "Sex with me is funny?"

"Not funny. Fun." Layla smoothed her hand down his chest. "You're laughing, too."

"You started it."

"I can't help it. I'm happy."

When he didn't respond, a chill ran through her. Had she made him uncomfortable? For God's sake, she hadn't said anything terrifying. She hadn't said she loved him, though it was true. She'd only said she was happy.

Beside her, Cam gave a sigh. "So am I."

****

Facing each other, sweaty and smiling, they lay scrunched in the single bed. Layla's head lay cushioned on Cam's arm, and he'd thrown his leg over her hip.

"Your arm still okay?" she murmured, her breath tickling the hair on his chest.

He flexed his fingers. No pins and needles yet. "So far so good." He ran his hand down the curve of her waist and over her thigh. She hummed appreciatively.

"You ticklish?" he asked.

"Not especially. Just feels nice."

She
felt nice. The first time they hooked up, she'd been shy about showing him her body. Pride filled his chest that now she didn't flinch in embarrassment when he handled her curves, didn't try to draw up the sheet to hide herself.

He let his fingers drift lower and treated himself to a generous handful of her ass. She went still for a moment, as though uncomfortable with her plentitude, then snuggled against him with a sigh.

He murmured in her ear. "So I guess we christened this new mattress real good, huh?"

She gave a little laugh. "We sure did."

He felt parched. Too much exercise, he thought with a grin. "Kind of thirsty. You got anything to drink? No, don't get up," he told her when she shifted. "I'll check."

"Look in the fridge. I think there might be some beer."

He gave her butt a little smack and enjoyed the way her flesh wobbled, then climbed out of bed. "You want something, too?"

"Yes, please. A drink. Thanks."

He found only one bottle of beer in the refrigerator. He twisted off the cap and took a drinking glass from the cabinet above the sink.

When he returned to the bedroom, he frowned. Layla had pulled up the sheet to hide her bountiful form. Shit. And here he'd thought she'd gotten over that shyness with him. Well, he'd just have to set her straight.

He raised an eyebrow. "You cold?"

She stretched lazily and rolled to her back. "No. Why?"

He set the glass on the nightstand and snatched down the sheet. "'Cause."

"Hey!" She sat up and grabbed at the sheet, but he blocked her.

"Come on, brick house, don't spoil the view."

She flushed, but relented and lay back against the pillows, a small smile playing on her lips.

He filled the drinking glass halfway. "You were down to the last beer, so we'll have to share."

After handing her the glass, he clinked the neck of his bottle to its rim. "Here's looking at you, kid."

Where had that come from? All of a sudden he was channeling Humphrey Bogart? In a flash, he remembered the first night they met, their discussion of
Casablanca
. Some serendipitous impulse made him echo that famous line from the film.

Their gazes met and they drank, needing no words to fill the silence.

He clapped his bottle down on the nightstand and set Layla's glass beside it. She scooched down the bed, lifting her arms to him. Cam placed a knee on the mattress, bending low for a kiss.

She grabbed him, pulled him down. "Come here."

He levered himself on his forearms to keep from crushing her as they exchanged hungry, yeasty kisses. He groaned when his phone played its familiar ringtone: "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer."