She grins from ear to ear and kisses my chest. "It's kind of hot. I actually enjoyed it. Until you know... the whole funky spunk in my mouth thing."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

-LUCY-

For the last two weeks he's spent every night at my cabin. Some nights we have dinner at his mom's house and I tell him that he should stay there. His mom jokes that he may as well move out. I'm not sure if Cameron knew that she was joking, because now he has a drawer in my dresser, half my closet space, and the bathroom is filled with shaving products and manly cologne. Not that I'm complaining. I love having him close all the time. What I don't love is the fact that he barely touches me.

Two weeks we've slept in the same bed. Him in nothing but boxers, and me, in my tank and panties trying to look cute. Still, he won't touch me.

And I have no idea why.

And I'm frustrated.

So much so that watching him chew the end of his pen while he sits opposite me at our dining table is turning me on. That, and the fact that he's shirtless. And hot. When did he get so goddamn hot? I mean, he was always cute... but now... holy shit I'm wet.

And now he's licking his lips. God, I love his lips.

I squeeze my legs together, trying to ease the ache.

My eyes drop, focusing on the words in the textbook in front of me. We're supposed to be studying, but all I can think about is his mouth. I glance up. He's doing it again. The licking lip thing. Oh fuck, now he's biting it.

I wonder if I ever turn him on just by looking at me.

I gaze down at myself. I'm wearing a shirt that Logan bought me after Vaginagate. It says 'I hate tacos, said no Juan ever.'

Nope. I highly doubt I turn him on.

I sigh loudly.

His eyes lift and his lips curve into a smile. Oh my God, his smile. His lips.

He slowly comes to a stand, his palms flat on the table. "Luce," he says.

"Mm?" I murmur, even though inside, I'm saying, Take me! Take me now!

"You got pizza sauce on your face."

I die.

He walks into the tiny kitchen and brings back a napkin for me.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He settles back in his seat, his eyes already concentrating on his homework on the table.

I sink down in my chair, feeling frumpy and stupid. And horny. I'm so horny.

Maybe I can make him want me. My lips curl at the corners when a plan comes to mind. I've read it in books, seen it in movies, surely it'll work.

Slowly, I raise my foot; maybe I can make him hard by rubbing him the right way. The instant my foot makes contact with his leg, he jerks back. "Holy shit!" he shouts. "Is that your foot? It's fucking freezing."

I drop my chin to my chest. "Sorry," I mumble, my face burning with embarrassment.

"Are you cold?"

I glance up at him. He's on his feet, running a hand down his bare chest. LICK.

"What?" he asks.

Crap, I said lick out loud.

His look of confusion is so fucking hot I think I want to rape him. Yup. Going to stand up and just start humping his leg.

"Are you sick?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"Your feet are cold, but your face is red, like you're burning up, and you keep moaning and squirming in your seat." His eyes narrow even more. "I'll get you socks and an aspirin. Sit down, babe, take it easy."

I grumble in my seat while I wait for him to come back. When he does, he kneels on the floor between my legs, and picks up my foot. My eyes drift shut, imagining his beautiful mouth kissing, licking, sucking its way up to my center. I need him.

"All done," he informs, causing me to open my eyes. He's covered my feet with socks, but he hasn't kissed me. My eyes glare at my legs. Maybe they're hairy. Maybe he just thinks I'm ugly. That could be it.

He leaves and comes back with a glass of water and an aspirin. "I wonder what's wrong with you. You shouldn't be getting your period for another week, right?"

I want to love him for being so in tune with me that he knows my cycle, but I can't think about that. Not when I want to lick him all over.

He takes his seat again, all relaxed and hot like he has no idea what I'm going through. He picks up his pen and lifts it to his already open mouth. He licks his lips once, so fucking slowly, then he runs the end of the pen across the bottom one, spreading the moisture.

I whimper.

Legit, whimper.

I sit up straighter and try to level my breathing. Round two, I think to myself. I raise my foot again, more determined this time.

And then...

"FUCK, LUCY!"

I wince at his words and shrink into my seat.

"You just kicked me in the balls, what the fuck?" He's shouting, on his feet, bent over at the waist.

"I'm sorry!" I shout back, standing and going to him.

"What just happened?"

I panic. "I had an itch."

"ON MY DICK?"

I'm trying to hug him, hoping it will make it better, but he pushes me away.

"I'm sorry!" I say again.

"It's okay," he says, a little calmer this time. He slowly straightens and places a hand to the side of my face. "It's okay," he repeats. "I'm sorry." He leans in and places his wet mouth on my dry one. "It just fucking hurts."

He tries to pull back but I grip his hips and refuse to let him go. I kiss him again, longer than he did. "You want me to kiss it better?" I ask.