NEXT TO YOU.
PAIRING cameron cade x black fem!reader
IN WHICH, you and cameron had been sworn enemies from the moment you were introduced, but one night together changed everything. now you have to figure out if it’s for better or worse.
¡WARNINGS! smut. 18+ (story building/lotta plot if you into that!) frenemies, hidden feelings, party setting, alcohol consumption, explicit language&use of the n word, adult themes, yearning, angst, heavy tension (cameron in his feelings bad chile.)
A/N was in a horrible writing slump, but i’m coming off it. had to participate in my lovely moots challenge! i got some more good shit for y’all as well! just getting started i promise. 🫦
your best friends engagement party couldn’t have come at a better time.
after the insanely busy week you’ve had preparing for your next feature release, you’re looking forward to a moment away from the noise. surrounded by people you love and too many drinks that you won’t even bother keeping count of.
but when you finally turn into the cul de sac, all pristine lawns and dreamy homes hidden behind tall, iron gates, your smile fades. that matte black audi rsq8 amongst a sea of cars crowding the street catches your attention instantly.
your foot slams down on the brake. hard.
tires screech loudly, and your whole body jerks forward before flying back against the seat, the cool leather biting your skin from such force.
“you have to be fucking kidding me…” you whisper in disbelief. frozen in the middle of the road, eyes glued to what you’re praying is a figment of your imagination, but there it is clear as day.
his truck.
cameron cade—heartthrob. rookie of the year. the san antonio saviors’ steel armed quarterback whose earned himself the cover of every magazine imaginable celebrating the insane season he’s had. whose name claimed too many news segments to count.
how can you not love him? they say,
so charming. so charismatic.
but to you he’s an egotistical, loud mouthed asshole.
you’ve only tolerated him because he happens to be your close friends teammate, and right hand man. in the entire year you’ve known him, getting along with someone has never been more difficult. the two of you can’t go ten minutes in the same room without butting heads.
he’ll comment on how you should loosen up and stop taking shit so seriously, then you’d shoot back with an insult to his intelligence and recklessness.
a never ending cycle.
well…at least it was.
before you teetered off the line of ‘toleration’ into something much, much worse.
it started off as a normal enough night. you sat alone, tucked away in your usual shadowy corner of the hole in the wall you escape to whenever you’re tired of your meticulous schedule. humming along to familiar songs and letting your body catch the beat of the rest, nothing but your watered down daiquiri keeping you company.
until somehow, your eyes found each other’s through the violet haze that swallowed the room.
a slow, patronizing smirk curved at his lips as he watched you. i mean he always did, but this time felt different. suffocating. even with the sea of bodies that thrashed wildly in the space between, his stare was cutting through everything else like you were the only thing he cared to look at.
that was when you forced yourself to tear your eyes away from his. briefly, anyway.
because the next time you glanced in his direction he was already dapping the man beside him, and, annoyingly, making his way over to you.
his stride was relaxed but careful. broad shoulders leveled as he smoothed a hand over his head, dressed down in a simple black tee that stretched with the muscles of his biceps, and camouflaged cargo’s hung low on his waist. the diamonds layered neatly around his neck danced and shimmered with every step he took,
and then he flashed that pearly smile. the kind that always comes with too much charm and even more calculation. almost like his signature
“what you doing in here by yourself?” his low red eyes roamed over you, “actually, nah, don’t tell me— he paused dramatically with a hand held out “one of your niggas stood you up”
straight out of his provocative playbook. he knew exactly what to say, what to do to get a reaction from you
and of course it worked.
you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest
“i’m enjoying my alone time. you need something cameron? or do you just enjoy fucking with me?”
“a little bit of both, sweetheart” he answered easily through a laugh that rivaled the music thrumming loudly in the air.
“not your ‘sweetheart’.”
he laughed again, harder.
the scowl on your face should’ve been enough to send him back where he’d come from, at least it did the trick with every other man who’d tried their luck, but cameron cade never worked like that.
instead, he wore your annoyance like a badge of honor. it only made him want more. need more.
despite your very clear protest he slipped past the divider separating your empty, quiet corner from the chaos of spilled drinks, drunken off-beat dancing and slurred lyrics and plopped down beside you on the suede lounge sofa. dangerously close. arms outstretched along the back, claiming the little space left between you
then came the stupid jokes, and the laughter that you’d tried so hard to fight. you don’t remember how things got so .. comfortable. touchy. but his fingers traced idly over the skin of your inner thigh right at the hem of your skirt as he talked you into a shot,
“just one,” he murmured, those greenish blue eyes burned into yours, and the heat that crawled up your neck under his gaze should’ve been your first warning.
“i promise. i’ll let you go back to your ‘alone time’. you can keep acting like you hate me” his tongue moved slowly over his bottom lip before he caught the plush, pink skin with his teeth
you shifted in your seat some, not by much, just enough that his fingers inched higher,
but you didn’t stop him. if anything, you settled into it. comfortable with the warmth sneaking across your skin
yet another warning.
“fine. one shot. then you’re leaving”
“say no more”
as the night progressed one shot became three, then six, then ten, and cemented stares loaded with desire quickly turned into his large, greedy hands firm on the curves of your hips pulling you back flush against him, welding your bodies together on the dance floor.
“so damn pretty” he lowered himself to your ear, “ion think you should be dancing on me like this.”
you fought a smile, trying to ignore the way his thumbs drew slow, measured circles into the dips in the skin of your lower back,
“unless you tryna get us into some trouble”
you remember the way your breathing hitched. the quiet laugh you tried, and failed, to swallow. pulse quickening
“that’s inappropriate cameron” you warned, amused. still winding your hips teasingly as the rhythm of how many drinks moved through you. a rough, throaty sound escaped him, and his grip on your waist tightened.
“mm,” he hummed, “you ain’t deny it yet.”
he lingered on your ear for a moment before his lips crept down your neck, whispers of his breath rolled down your skin, warm, gentle. despite the way your heart pummeled through your chest you forced a scoff
“please. you’re drunk, and obviously horny—”
“nah” he cut in. “i think we both know that’s not what this is.” his voice dipped seductively low, “just been waiting on you to let me know sum”
he pressed his palms down harder, guiding your hips right into the thick outline of him sitting heavy against your backside through his pants.
your eyes grew wide as he rubbed up against you. awestruck by how big he was, and the heat growing in between your thighs was a betrayal to your detestation for him, yet you let yourself melt further into his arms as they snaked around your bodice.
fingers grazing gently up his forearms locked around your waist and resting at the crease of his elbows. his hands slid higher, unhurried over your bust, and before you knew it the pad of his thumb rested on your chin, lifting your face to meet his
every dangerous word hanging between you barely hid behind his hazeled eyes.
you gulped,
“cam…” you said through a shaky breath, unsure if it was another warning for him or your own needs clawing at you
he smirked, “be a big girl (Y/N)” he murmured, slowly closing in on your lips “gone ‘head, tell me what you want”
that night, you relinquished yourselves to each other completely.
you heard it in the way he breathed your name, felt it in the way he mapped out every inch of your body with his tongue and his lips, memorizing, like you belonged to him.
but then you woke up the next morning cocooned in his egyptian cotton sheets, his large arm draped over your thigh, loosely but still claimant, his flushed face softened with content, pink lips parted as he snored softly.
that’s when the gravity of everything came crashing down on you.
you realized that you didn’t regret a single thing. how easy you gave in to temptation, how you’d let yourself fall into him. how much you wanted to do it again.
and that was exactly the problem.
you knew it wouldn’t just go away, fade into nothing like your usual one-offs do. this wasn’t that. whatever it was held weight, so much so that it swelled and bloomed in your chest, all invasive. eating at you the longer you stayed.
so you left quietly and convinced yourself it was the best thing for both of you.
then the unanswered phone calls and endless texts came rolling in, each one more revealing and a lot less composed than the last.
(11) cameron.
cameron.
9:17 am
you okay? why’d you leave?
9:50 am
wya?
11:23 am
(Y/N).
12:11 pm
?? damn so we just not gone talk?
still, you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. you were too afraid of what would come of it, and what it might mean moving forward.
your heart pounds the more you think about it all. his chains cool against your skin, draped between your bodies glistening in sweat. his sea green irises fixed on yours as he delved slow and deep into your sweetness. savoring every second he had you to himself. whispering every filthy thought that he’d been harboring against your parted mouth.
a violent shudder moves through you, your breathing hollow as you sink lower into the seat.
fuck.
having to be in the same space as him now, forced to face the fact that you’ve been blatantly avoiding him for weeks feels like some kind of cruel joke played by the universe.
but maybe you’re being dramatic. at least you hope so. you’re both adults who are more than capable of celebrating your friends without the extra,
right?
you tighten your eyes shut, take a deep, steadying breath and then slowly ease your foot off the brake,
cameron’s annoyed, for lack of a better word.
not the kind that could easily be hidden behind the dark tint of his shades, or cloaked by a practiced confidence that he’s gotten way too good at—the warm smile, easy laugh, relaxed shoulders. it’s loud, and strikingly obvious.
truth is he doesn’t know if he’s more annoyed with you or himself. not because he regrets it, no. never. if anything that’s the problem.
it’s because whatever he feels for you isn’t new. it snuck up on him, surface level in the beginning. a pretty face with too much attitude, a body that you have to see to believe. but then it festered into something deeper. hidden in plain sight. right beneath every snide comment, every pointless argument in an attempt to garner attention from you.
maybe it was the way your intelligence seeped into the insults you threw at him, those dimples carved deep into your cheeks softening words that were supposed to hurt, or how your round hips swayed in that hypnotic, mouthwatering rhythm even when you were storming away from him like he didn’t matter.
but when you’d disappeared so suddenly, the radio silence, the avoidance after everything that happened. he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that night means more to him than it does to you.
and even still, that didn’t stop him from canceling his obligations for the weekend to be here, in your vicinity.
it didn’t stop his fingers from hovering over your contact name just this morning, rereading every unanswered text. hoping that you’d finally find something, anything to say back.
irritation grows the longer he lets his mind wander. he shakes his head slightly, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek as he tries to settle himself, balancing the glass of champagne that he’s barely touched on his restless knee.
he leans back into the garden chair with his long legs outstretched over freshly cut grass, one arm draped over the backrest, almost like a statue planted in the middle of a heap of people bustling around him.
everyone’s some kind of tipsy. loud, dancing and singing along horribly off key to the kaytranada mix pulsing from speakers placed throughout the backyard
“yo,”
jeremiah, the man of the hour announces himself as he approaches, winding between the guests scattered in his path.
“you good? over here looking like security, scoping the scene out and shit.”
cameron manages a small chuckle at that, sliding the shades down the bridge of his nose and peeking over the rim at his homeboy
“it’s a nice day. maybe i’m just enjoying the weather, nigga.” he lies easily as he brings the champagne he’s been babysitting to his mouth and taking a more than generous sip of the peach flavored bubbly
jeremiah narrows his eyes at him unconvinced
“weather my ass,” he mutters “you ain’t moved from that spot since you got here. you high?” he quizzes
he grumbles. if only. maybe he’d actually be enjoying himself. probably catch a dance or two with one of the many women flashing bright smiles and lustrous eyes in his direction, indulge in the chase until the party thinned out, get a happy ending,
but he couldn’t. not even close. and he hates that he knows exactly why.
“shit, i wish.” cameron hums into the glass, still sipping, trying to focus on anything but you and failing miserably.
jeremiah huffs a laugh, “man come on. it’s some people i want you to meet”
he finishes off his drink with a hard swallow before obliging, and as he stands from his seat he can’t stop his eyes from flickering back to the sliding glass door that he’s been keeping watch on all morning. silently bracing himself for the moment you walk through it.
meanwhile, you and delaney walk arm in arm through the corridor. after you’d squeezed the life out of her—erupting squeals of congratulations and gushing over her engagement ring—it took no time at all for the scolding to start.
“you told me he wouldn’t be here! i cannot believe you set me up like this” you whisper yell
“i did not! he specifically said he had to be in atlanta for the weekend” she argues “well, that’s what he told us at the time” she adds, quieter now “but everything’s chill i swear. there’s a lot of people who can buffer, it’ll be fine”
then she snorts, “and this is partially your fault for being fast anyway.”
you’re chuckling before you can stop it, but you straighten up immediately
“shut up. don’t try to shame me. i’m grown”
“girl, whatever” she swats a hand at you with a laugh “you know he asked me if you were coming right? must’ve put it on him good”
“delaney, please stop talking.”
“i’m just saying!”
your hushed bickering bounces off the tall walls and high ceilings.
the further you move into their gorgeous, spanish revival style home, the livelier it is. every shade of pink and green imaginable has taken over the space.
music bleeds in from the dj booth outside, laughter and chatter heavy in the air as familiar faces blur past. the sweet smell of waffles and syrup circles, indulgent scents of grease and seasonings from fried meats threaded into it all.
but none of it does anything to calm the nerves coursing like lightning through you.
“i need a drink. there’s no way I’m dealing with this shit sober.” you mutter, already veering toward the neat lineup of mimosas and champagne
delaney hums thoughtfully beside you,
“mmm i don’t know, you get real talkative when you drunk.” she pauses “that’s probably how you ended up folded like a pretzel in the first place” she jokes
you bump her with your hip, eyes rolling as you help yourself to a glass “do not piss me off.” a laugh escapes “you already skating on thin ice. better be lucky you look cute in that dress”
the pair of you make your way onto the deck outside and you down half your mimosa in one go, watching the crowd stir
across the yard cameron stands amidst a group of men, sipping on his second drink. barely listening to jeremiah’s relatives run their mouths about the saviors getting to the super bowl next season.
he’s being attentive of course, he has to be. the facade wouldn’t work otherwise. so he gives a nod here, an opinion there,
until he takes yet another absentminded glance at the door out of muscle memory, and finally sees you.
just that quick, he almost forgets how you’ve slighted him. he can’t think about that right now. not even a little bit. everything else fades into nothing, jeremiah’s voice and the hearty laughter that follows dulls once his eyes latch onto you. unmoving.
your smooth chocolate skin catches the sunlight like it belongs to you, meshing deliciously with the capris set that clings to your figure like a canvas showing off the work of art underneath.
he bites down on his bottom lip to contain a grin that's forming at the disgusting thoughts that begin running rampant.
and then, somehow, when you’re squeezing your way through all of the commotion,
your eyes find him. and he’s already looking back at you.
dressed in an off-white knit shirt, paired with a leather jacket and light washed jeans. a silver patek gleams on his wrist each time he lifts the glass to his lips courtesy of the sun, and his sandy brown hair is buzzed low and neat. casual, put together. dangerously so.
your breath catches, and every hazy memory of that night wrecks into you instantly as the depth of his stare reaches you from clean across the yard.
cameron’s mind betrays him as well. he can’t unsee your perfect, bare body beneath his. glazed in sweat and kissed by beauty marks in all the right places. your legs closed tightly around his figure pulling him closer as he slowly burrowed himself as deep as he could go into your sopping wet warmth.
and that voice.
his name has never sounded so angelic coming from you.
judging by the way you’re looking he knows none of what took place is lost on you either. that alone is enough to satisfy him
a slow, knowing smirk pulls at his lips as he raises his glass, still holding your eyes. taunting you.
your heart thrums faster and you tear your eyes away from his, leaning into delaney,
“i can’t be around him. not right now”
“you’re a damn editor, i thought y’all worked better under pressure?”
if looks could kill, she’d be good as gone.
“delaney, i’m serious.”
“okay, okay” laughter slips from her “we’re just gonna go speak real quick i promise” she assures, keeping her stride, closing in on the collection of men faster than you’d hoped. the panic on your face is clear as day.
“and please relax. you look like you about to pass out”
“don’t tell me to relax!” you whisper yell
jeremiah notices the two of you first and turns to face you as you approach, his eyebrows lifted in surprise
“well damn,” he drags out, grinning “look who finally found her way here” he reaches for his bride-to-be’s hand instinctively before sliding an arm around her, pulling her to his side
“you had her on lockdown or something?” he passes a glance back and forth between you,
“it’s good to see you too jer” you huff a laugh, trying to keep yourself steady “and congratulations again” you raise your glass before taking another much needed sip
they all pass head nods and greetings. all of them except him.
cameron doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. his stare says it all.
and when you turn to meet his gaze, it feels like a rip current pulling everything you’ve been trying to ignore free. those icy blue irises bore straight through you.
“hey.” you manage
he doesn’t respond. not yet, anyway.
his jaw tightens as he takes you in slowly, top to bottom. plump lips lathered in your signature liner and gloss, your breasts spilling perfectly into the the blush pink satin, those round hips curving into your thick, soft thighs, like a full course meal. and he’s starving.
still, his mouth opens before he can think,
“you good?” it isn’t an ask, it’s a statement. the venom threaded into his tone couldn’t be more obvious.
jeremiah notices the heat building,
“oh shit,” he leans down to whisper to delaney “they finally did it huh?” he chuckles. “hush, babe i can’t hear” she palms his chest, watching along with him
you clear your throat, “um…yeah, i’m fine” you say quietly “are you?”
he simply nods, “i’m straight.”
he isn’t. not in the slightest.
probably because you’re standing here looking so pretty and put together, untouchable—unbothered while he’s burning up beneath the surface. it’s fucking with him. badly.
he steps closer, and the air thickens immediately. you stiffen at the closeness
“ion like assuming, so i’ll ask. you been ignoring me?” he quizzes. well, kind of. it seems more accusatory than anything.
“no i’ve just been busy. haven’t had any time to do anything else besides work, really.” you answer through a quiet, nervous laugh. lying straight through your teeth.
camerons lips twitch into a smile. he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or lose his mind
busy.
he almost glances around for a camera, fully convinced you’re playing a trick on him. you have to be.
he then inches even closer to you, so close that heads are starting to turn in your direction,
“‘busy’,” he reiterates, voice dipped as he tilts his head at you, “so thats what it is now?”
a dry humorless chuckle escaped him, “you bullshitting, (Y/N).”
you gulp
heat claws at your neck, and your gaze drops to the shine of his shoes for a split second, voice hushed,
“cameron..please. don’t.”
“nah, i’m just curious” he shrugs, calm, but the the unwavering, hard stare tells another story “tryna understand how you so busy that you can’t answer a call or a text.”
“what exactly do you want me to say?”
“i want you to stop playing with me.” he says quietly, still holding your eyes as if he’s daring you to look away. somehow, the whispered words feel more dangerous than if he’d yelled,
and that alone is enough to make you feel things you’re not supposed to. not here. not now.
“i’m not trying to..” you wrap your arms around yourself, shifting weight from one leg to the other,
the party is still coursing around you despite your own issues brewing, music still thrums loudly, people still dance wildly, but even then you catch the eyes of a few in the group watching the interaction, whispers traveling back and forth between them as they tune in. cameron follows your gaze
and then,
“come here.” his hand comes up, fingers lightly brushing your elbow
your breathing catches “people are looking—
“i don’t care. you think i’m finna have this conversation in front of everybody?” he grasps your arm, not firm but still enough to let you know it’s not a request
he then turns placing his half empty glass onto the bar, before you know it he has your hand in his steering you through the thickening crowd. past the pool full of children screaming and laughing, the table of elders slapping cards down and shit-talking as they play a game of spades,
and somewhere behind you, delaney and jeremiah smile knowingly at each other,
“pay up, you lost. i told you it was coming” he hooks an arm around her neck and delaney playfully rolls her eyes at her fiancée
“looks like we’ll be at another wedding soon”
you’re pulled into a room tucked away on the far side of the house, free of anyone who could’ve wandered off from the party. crisp white linen’s and natural light pouring in from the windows illuminating the space on its own. he closes the door behind himself, the soft click of the lock sounds off right after
doesn’t say anything for a while.
he simply slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leans back coolly against the door, as calm as ever, like he isn’t obviously blocking your only way out. guarding it almost. head tilted as he studies you
the weight of his stare makes your stomach tighten, and then he quietly laughs, but there’s no humor in it
“you really ‘bout to stand here and act like nothing happened?” he asks pointedly.
you shake your head “that’s not what i’m doing, cam. it’s just not as simple as you’re trying to make it.” you fidget with the rings on your fingers, attempting to ground yourself,
“and we were drunk.” it comes out quicker than you can think
silence stretches between you. so charged that you can feel the tension circling you both as challenging stares passed back and forth
and then a sharp breath slips through him, “well it’s simple as fuck to me. drunk or not, i don’t bring just anybody back to my crib and do everything we did”
“that’s hard to believe,” you shoot back instantly “and today isn’t even about us, but who’s surprised that cameron cade can’t stop thinking about himself for one fucking second.”
of course you’re projecting.
he sees it all over your pretty, conflicted face.
truthfully, you just don’t want to face the fact that in all of the intricate responses you typed out but never sent, you wore your heart on your sleeve. you let yourself be honest about your feelings for once, and you hate that he is the reason.
the man that’s so easy to despise, so easy to dislike is the one that has you scattered.
a smile creeps across his lips. the way your delicate brown eyes flash at him, and those shimmery lips wrapping around each word, yeah, you look good.
way too good.
just the sight of you like this is making his pants swell
“you can’t stop thinking about me either,” he says softly, tilting his head as his brows lift in amusement . “felt good letting it all out for me that night, didn’t it?” he taunts, pushing himself off of the door as he speaks.
your breath snags in your throat,
“stop.” you say, barely above a whisper
“why?” he steps closer, “you wanna keep pretending youn want nothing to do with me?” you swear you feel the wood beneath your feet shifting with the weight of him
you take a step back out of instinct to put space between you but he just advances faster, closing the gap in one single stride. the distance between you shrinks to almost nothing,
“cam—
“i guess that’s easier than admitting you want me— he smirks, clearly amused as he gestures back and forth between you “this, right?”
“now you’re just being arrogant, per usual. move.”
it comes out sharper, louder than you want it to, but it’s the only thing keeping you from combusting right now.
you try to slip around him and start toward the door but he swiftly grabs ahold of your arms as you pass, spinning you right back into him. you gasp, the wind knocked from your lungs at the sudden closeness. too close. you’re chest to chest
his breath rolls down your cheeks, those lustful eyes locked onto your face, your lips as he anchors you to him
“or what?” he murmurs
“cameron,” you warn, averting your gaze “i’m not playing.”
his hand shifts from your arm and slithers up the side of your neck until his thumb dips below your chin, tilting your face back up so you have no choice but to meet his eyes again
“(Y/N),” he says quietly, his face mere inches from yours, closing in slowly “i’m not either.” he whispers
your breathing picks up and your heart beats so hard that it’s ringing in your ears, it feels like it may burst through your chest. you shouldn’t be, but fuck you’re a mess.
and he knows it.
your lips trace each others now, teasingly,
you breathe, head shaking slightly “w-we can’t do this here, the party—
“watch me.”
his lips crash into yours, sending the both of you stumbling back into the door with a heavy thud, and despite every warning blaring loudly in your head, your body is taking the lead before your mind can stop you.
your hands move quickly along the front of his toned chest, yanking the leather from his arms and tossing it aside, leaving him in the shirt underneath.
now the two of you are in a whirlwind of deep, messy, tongue heavy kisses, the only sound filling the room being your desperate moans each time you retract and the sticky wet sounds of saliva being passed back and forth as your lips melt together
“fuck i missed you” he groans against your mouth, “swear i been going crazy thinking about you, us, everything” his muscles are flexing and contorting as he fumbles with the waistband of your capris, dragging them down roughly over your hips.
his large hands travel until he’s palming your ass cheeks, and then without a single warning his hand flies down hard against your soft skin. the sound cracks like lightning,
you gasp, eyes wide “ohh— a whimper slips in between kisses. combined pain and pleasure lingers, stinging and flooding the seat of your panties all at once,
“don’t do that shit again. when i call, answer”
“cam—
another smack comes down onto the other cheek even harder, your knees almost give out beneath you, buckling from the force
“ever. say it.” he demands roughly
“mmh—fuck,” you breathe, “i-i’ll never do it again” a smirk tugs at his lips, satisfied before he pulls you back into the kiss,
“good girl.”
his tongue slides deeper and slower into your mouth, he then catches your bottom lip gently between his teeth, drudging a gasp from you
“you love when i get rough with you huh?”
you nod feverishly, almost desperately, your face softening under his hungry gaze. his fingers hook into the waistband of your hot pink lace panties already ruined by the sticky heat between your thighs from his touch. you shimmy a little to help him get them down your legs.
he pulls back and pauses his movement just to stare at you. reveling in your beauty. your two toned lips kiss swollen, slick and glistening with saliva, coils falling freely cradling your face. everything about you is unreal. he’s practically foaming at the mouth.
“i’m never letting you go, i promise” he shakes his head, and then he’s back in action again. rushing to undo his belt before the button of his jeans. rushing to get his hands on you how he’s been dreaming about since the last time
you don’t have any time to catch your breath before his large, muscled arms are lifting you onto his waist effortlessly, flattening your back against the door.
there’s no slowing down now. not that you want him to.
your legs lock around him, and you’re ready to take everything that he’s been more than ready to give you.
he presses his forehead against yours and lines himself up with your entrance. in one quick motion his hips snap into your pelvis, filling you with every inch of him in a single deep, hard thrust.
“shit!” you yelp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. an intense pleasure rips violently through your core and both of you grapple tightly to each other, shallow breaths traveling between your parted lips,
“so fucking tight, mama” he strains. a guttural sound escapes him as your slick warm walls clench around his length.
“god—wait” you plead, louder than you should, but the sweet sound of your voice, so melodic and needy just ignites a fire in him.
“after all that shit you been talking, you can’t take it?” his brows furrow as he taunts you, rolling his hips in a torturous rhythm. stretching you to fit the girth of his shaft just right with each push
“you’re just s-so deep, cam, fuck” you cry, tightening your eyes shut, trying to take him fully. steadying yourself with a grip on his broad shoulders as he delves into you faster “mhm,” he hums, voice rough “i want you to feel every fucking inch”
he’s watching intently as your face contorts into a pouty, fucked-out mess, which only gets him harder
he then hoists you up higher, angling you just right for more access, stimulating pleasure in all the right places.
a throaty, broken moan leaves him, “pussy taking me so good, getting wet as fuck for me—” his jaw falls “all fucking mine, ain’t you?” he’s slamming everything into you relentlessly, the wood bends and creaks beneath your bodies, his large fingers indenting your thighs to ground himself as he drives into you harder.
you inhale sharply, “y-yes, cameron i’m yours!” he sinks deeper. closer than you thought possible. your head rolls back, eyes drifting to the ceiling and slow, warm kisses creep up your neck before he suctions his lips to your sweet spot, sucking hard enough to undoubtedly leave a mark behind,
“baby— nngghh— fuck, you so perfect” he mutters breathlessly into your skin, thrusts deepening like he never wants to leave. the sound of your combined juices echoing off of the walls, sticky and wet
“can’t believe i ain’t get my hands on you sooner”
it’s confetti from there. your moans rivaling each other’s, skin smacking, and you both unraveling completely.
“please don’t stop, cam” you mewl, heat burrowing in your core, twisting and curling through every inch of your body as you get closer to the edge
he slides a large hand into your hair tangling his fingers tightly in your coils, forcing your eyes to his
“you gonna cum for me pretty girl? hmm?” he hums against your parted mouth. his hips snap harder, drilling precisely into that same spot over and over,
the repeated pummeling of your button drags a long, feeble moan from your lips,
“mhmm let it all out, i’m right here, baby. i got you”
and just like that, you tip over your breaking point. pleasure springs from the pit of your stomach, bursting with an intensity too overwhelming for you to handle.
you fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, “fuckk cameron im cumming— i’m cum- you bawl against his parted lips, gasping and shivering, walls tightening as you melt into him and he comes right behind you. driving himself as deep as he can go, burying himself there
“mmm s-shit— a low, choked moan tears through him and he brings his mouth to yours, kissing you slow and filthy, his breathing uneven as he holds you there. filling you up with his warm seed.
he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours, but you don’t speak. you can’t. instead, you melt further into the other’s embrace. something unfamiliar—new dances between you, and all either of you can do is stare.
silently coming to terms with the fact that there’s no going back after this.
the room is eerily silent as the both of you get yourselves together. not in the awkward way that feels suffocating and uncomfortable. it’s more … warm.
and then,
“i meant what I said (Y/N)” he turns to face you after he gets his jacket on, bringing a hand to the curve of your hip and pulling you in, “i don’t wanna let you go. this ain’t just sex for me”
“i know...me neither, it’s just—” your eyes fall from his for a moment and you exhale slowly, letting yourself feel everything you need to before you continue,
“you and me—this could be messy. always moving, always trying to keep up with our careers. that’s not easy”
he huffs quietly, nodding as he takes your words in, “that’s true, but nothing good ever come easy. how you think we got here?”
“still, cam” you shake your head “everything would change. our friendships could too. you can’t just say that without knowing what it means.”
your eyes find his again, and you can visibly see him pondering on whether or not he wants to go through with speaking his mind, and then he finally decides,
“i said it ‘cause shit already changed, a long time ago. before today, way before that night” he reasons, “i was damn near doing and saying anything just to get your attention at one point. it been that bad.”
you tilt your head and a smirk curves at your lips. shock decorates your face at the admission. of course you assumed there was mutual attraction, he’s a handsome man, you’re drop dead gorgeous, and you’re both well established, but you didn’t think he’d ever let it get deeper than that.
hell, you didn’t think you’d ever let it get deeper than that.
both of his hands grace your hips now, rubbing absentminded circles “listen, i’m not asking you to figure all this out right here. i just need you to know where i stand”
the usual edge to his tone isn’t there. he’s..him. not cameron cade, just cameron. it makes you want to melt.
even scarier, it makes you want to believe him.
“oh really? where is that?”
he smirks, pulling you closer
“with you, if you let me”
