Read The Dysfunctional Test Online

Authors: Kelly Moran

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

The Dysfunctional Test (21 page)

Anna shook her head. “I’m so calling you when it’s time to discuss the birds and bees.”

“Why would you call Auntie Cam about birds and bees?”

“She means puberty, sweetie,” Kuma Viola supplied.

“Damn it!” Fisher howled, causing Troy and Justin to laugh like drunk hyenas. “Would you all shut up? You’re going to get her kicked out of preschool if she repeats this.”

Emily stoically looked at her father, seeming much older than her years. “Auntie Cam said damn is a bad word. So don’t say damn anymore. Right, Auntie Cam?”

Cam smiled. “Right, honey. Damn is a damn bad word. No more damning. Now, you should eat your damn dinner that Tim spent a damn hour grilling before it gets damn cold.”

Fisher threw his head back and stared at the darkening sky as if praying to a higher power. Troy and Justin all but fell off their seats laughing. Justin was turning the same ugly shade of fuchsia as the shirt Heather bought her. Even Bernice was laughing from behind her napkin.

Emily and Camryn commenced to eating while everyone but Fisher giggled into hysteria. Eventually they calmed down and finished their meal as the waning light descended behind the mountains.

“What’s puberty mean?”

Chapter Fourteen

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Good conversation can be as rousing as espresso, and just as hard to sleep after.

 

Troy trailed Camryn into their bedroom and kicked the door shut. Before she could take another step deeper into the room, he grabbed her arm, swung her around, and pinned her back to the wall. Cupping her cheeks, he stared into her widening eyes.

“Did you see what happened at dinner?” he asked. “You had them all laughing. You were hilarious.”

“Yes, I saw them,” she said, placing her hands over his. He thought she was going to remove them, but instead she interlaced their fingers and dropped them to her side. “All but Fisher, who will kill me later.” She paused. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A rigid thump pounded inside his chest as he looked at her. Cam thanking him was a huge leap, and not an easy one for her to make. “You’re welcome. I meant the other thing I said too. How you diffused Emily and her questions was damn hot.”

A doubtful look crossed her face. “Uh huh. Reciting definitions and basic grammar lessons gets me all hot and bothered too.”

He leaned into her and grabbed her hips. “Joke all you want, but I’m serious. No one else could’ve done that. All that knowledge locked in your head is fascinating. You never forget anything.”

Her head tilted as she eyed him. “You’re increasing insanity is alarming.”

See, right there. Even the way she talked had him hard. “Define insanity.”

“Excuse me?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth and he moaned. She still smelled like lemongrass. He wondered if it was her shampoo or some kind of body wash. It wasn’t fruity or girly, just clean. Fresh. “What is the definition of insanity?”

She stared at him a second more before answering. “By definition, insanity is a derangement of the mind. But Einstein said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.’”

Air seeped from his lungs. It physically hurt how bad he wanted her. “Then I am insane, Cam, because I want you. Now. Over and over again. Without the shut down like last night.”

Without the inevitable way this is going to end
.

Her lips parted as she breathed, her gaze taking in every aspect of his face before looking into his eyes. “I make it a rule not to sleep with crazy men.”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Make an exception, just this once.”

He dropped his hands and walked to his bag by the bed, pulling out a condom, and then walked back to her.

She looked at the condom, then up at him. “Here?”

Oh God, yes. Against the wall. Upside down. In a tree. He didn’t give a damn, just so long as he had her. “Yes, here.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed right there.”

Flattening both palms on the wall, he smiled and pressed his body to hers. “And there’s a perfectly good wall right here.”

He leaned in to kiss her, stopping just before touching her mouth so he could watch her eyes haze with passion. Before last night, he didn’t think Camryn had that much passion inside her. Oh, how wrong he was. It only proved to solidify his desire to show her everything she locked away. Everything she thought she wasn’t.

“I love that look on your face. You know that?” Her eyes cleared as she stared at him, confused. Surprised. “The look you have when you forget to breathe.”

To get the look back, he slid his fingers up her thigh, under her dress, and inside the waistband of her panties. Almost…there. Tugging her panties down, he watched her eyes widen. Such big damn beautiful eyes. He unzipped and dropped his jeans. He left them around his ankles until he helped her step out of her underwear, and then he kicked his aside. Purposely being methodical, he grinned as she watched. For once, she didn’t seem ashamed.

He rolled the condom on, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Almost…there. She pressed her hands to the wall behind her as if bracing herself, holding herself upright. He tugged off his shirt and threw it aside. She stared at his chest through lowered lids, as he watched her pulse beat hard against her throat.

He stepped closer, brushing his skin with the fabric of her dress. Her nipples pebbled in response. She sucked in a breath and held it, arching toward him. He touched a strand of her hair, sliding it through his fingers and inhaling lemongrass before letting it fall to her cheek.

It was the shampoo. He’d never smell anything like it again without thinking of her, right now, like this.

This throbbing for her had begun with that first kiss in the yard, and it hadn’t stopped after last night. For unknown reasons, burying himself deep inside her, watching her come over and over, hadn’t satiated this desire for a woman he shouldn’t want. Tonight wouldn’t stop it either, yet he was doing it anyway.

And she wasn’t stopping him.

Almost there. His hands dove under her dress, cupped her backside, and spread her thighs. She gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her hands held his shoulders, kneading the muscles with tense fingers. She’d done that every time he kissed her, and again last night during sex. One of many things she did that shoved him over the edge.

He paused near her opening, watching her eyes, wanting. His mouth hovered over hers, waiting…

There
.

“That look right there, Cam. Just beautiful,” he whispered, closing his mouth over hers and thrusting inside.

She cried out, the sound contained by his kiss.
So hot
. Her fingers squeezed his shoulders before fisting in his hair.
Oh, so hot
. Then her heels dug into his back, drawing him as deep inside her as humanly possible, and damn…

He absolutely lost it. Gone.

There was no finesse now, only raw animal instincts. He braced one forearm on the wall and drove into her with everything he had, until her body tensed and he felt her clench and tighten around him.

He’d been with a lot of women, but none of them came like Camryn. Fast, fevered, and with all the emotion she tried to bottle. Cam made him
want
to wait, teetering on that brink between torment and release. To pleasure her over and over just to watch the mystery of her.

He tore his mouth away from her kiss to suck in air, only to bury his face in the soft skin behind her ear. Clutching the back of her neck, he listened to her squeak out a moan, and felt her shuddering, rocking against him before he emptied completely.

Swallowing, he wrapped his arms around her, utterly shaken. He stood holding her longer than it took for them to do the deed.

“Dear God, Cam,” he said, unable to speak more. She made a noncommittal sound of agreement.

Before his legs could give out, he carried her to the bed and sat her in his lap. He disposed of the condom and unzipped her dress, wanting her skin against his. Her arms came up without question, allowing him to pull the dress over her head.

She shivered, so he reached behind her and wrapped a blanket around them. Keeping her straddled on his lap, he leaned against the headboard as she dropped her cheek to his chest. This was so much better than chasing her into the shower. Though maybe later…

“This takes getting used to,” she said.

He looked down at the top of her head. “What does?”

“This cuddling stuff.”

“You don’t usually cuddle after sex?” She didn’t answer. “I told you we were going to talk tonight, Cam.”

She lifted her head. “Is that why we had sex? So you could loosen my tongue to check off your list?”

He bit down until his molars ground. “I said it before, and I’m only saying this one more time. Sex with you isn’t an agenda, Camryn. I do it because I want to.”

Or because somewhere inside I have to
.

She looked at him, probably considering if the information was worth storing in her brain. He wondered how many more times they had to have sex before she believed him.

He sighed. “We’ll play twenty questions. My rules. Twenty questions, and you have to answer all of them honestly.”

She dropped her chin to his chest. “What part of this is on your list?”

He kept it simple. “To spill your guts.”

“Spill my guts,” she repeated dully. “Fine. I’ll play your game if I get to ask you questions also. No limit.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. No doubt she’d outsmart him, but fair was fair. Depending on what she asked, maybe his openness would encourage her.

He nodded. “I’ll go first. Answer my question from before. You never cuddle after sex?”

Her eyes lost their edge. “No.”

He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. He realized it wasn’t her who didn’t want to have the intimacy, but the men she was with. Over the years she’d grown accustomed to sex as more an act than joy.

“You’ve never been held after sex?” She shook her head. “Is that the reason you shut down last night?”

She shrugged, but nodded her head. He knew that wasn’t the entire story, but he let it slide for now.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered. “Please don’t feel sorry for me, okay? Not everyone is as emotionally open as you.”

“Trust me, it’s not pity I’m feeling.”

“You asked three questions. It’s my turn.”

Nice try. “Asking for elaboration on an answer isn’t an additional question.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t stipulated in the rules.”

He smiled. “It is now. Ask your question.”

“Who’s Lindsay?” Not even a hesitation.

Interesting first question, and that another woman would be in her head. Was she jealous? He didn’t think Cam capable of such a raw emotion. “A woman I dated briefly a year ago.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “And you’re still sleeping with her?”

“No. Why did Emily call you ugly?”

Her gaze darted down, then back to his. A battle waged over her face until she reluctantly answered. “She overheard me say it.”

Troy’s suspicion all along, though he’d hoped otherwise. He had mistaken her insecurity as confidence. “Explain.”

She stared at his chest. “I was trying on the revolting garments Heather bought for me in the boutique. This was after they made me highlight and cut my hair. I mumbled, ‘you can’t fix ugly,’ to myself. Emily heard.”

“You don’t think…”

“My turn,” she said, cutting him off. “How many women have you been with?”

What was with all the questions on his dating life? “A lot. Not as many as you’d think, however.”

“You never wanted to marry any of them? Do you even remember their names?”

That sounded like an insult wrapped in a question. “No, I never wanted to marry any of them. And yes, I remember all of their names. Karen was the first, in the backseat of her car after Homecoming. There’s no sense in going through them all, but I do remember each of them. They were all special, but not right for me in the long term.”

She looked at him with genuine surprise. “You cared about them, didn’t you?”

“Yes. You don’t seriously think you’re ugly, do you?”

She sighed. “Ugly is a strong word…”

He pushed off the headboard, sitting upright, and looked into her eyes. “Answer the question, Cam. Do you think you’re ugly?”

She grabbed the sheet from next them and climbed off his lap. With way too much focus, she wrapped herself in the sheet and lay back. It was as much of an answer than if she’d outright said…

“Yes. Well, no. Not ugly, but not beautiful either. I’m average. One of those people that others pass by and hardly notice. I used to like it that way.”

His gaze whipped to her, studied her, but she wouldn’t look in return. He’d notice her in a room full of women, even if they’d never met. She stood out that much. Somewhere along the way she got used to hiding. This gave him several ideas for his list. “You’re not, Cam. You’re
not
ugly. Whoever told you…?”

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