Her expression softens. “I missed you too.”
The last time we saw each other, Camila had messaged me earlier that day on the verge of freaking out. Apparently, someone had seen me leaving the Baymont, after locking lips with Camila. Thankfully, they didn’t see who the woman was. Yes, it may get back to Addison that I was kissing another woman, but I learned years ago how to deal with the bitch. I shudder when I think about what she would do to Camila if she were to find out it was her.
I slide my hands down Camila’s back, reaching for the hem of her dress. Lifting it, I’m pleased when my fingers encounter her bare ass cheeks and the tiny string between them.
“I need you, baby,” I murmur between kisses.
“Then take me,” she responds, her hands already moving to my belt.
“Are you sure? We’re in a broom closet in a bar.”
She unbuckles my belt and starts working on the button and zipper of my pants. “I don’t care. I just want to feel you.”
Goddamn, this woman is a dream.
One I wish I could hold on to forever.
But one I fear I’ll have to eventually let go.