Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1) Page 4

  I cover my face and close my eyes, a low moan escaping, when I realize exactly what the fuck just happened. I allow my propped foot to fall to the floor and quickly lean forward so that my ass is flush with the back of the couch, trying to hide my arousal - the arousal that occurred without a fucking synthetic pill. "Are you okay," she asks as she sets my beer down in front of me. "Is something wrong with the beer?"

  I can't even remember the last time I lost control over my dick. I need a boner kill. Preferably sooner than later, because this is one time a guy with a smaller dick has the advantage over guys like me, and this meeting should be wrapping up. At least they can somewhat make it less obvious, but me...not a chance in hell. I'll be walking around with a rather large bulge next to my zipper, running down the inside of my thigh or toward my waistband, depending on which way it decides to lay.

  When I say I have a big dick, it's not a shit-talking attention-seeking ploy to impress a girl. Actually those guys are usually the smallest. Guys with big dicks don’t talk about it, because they don’t have to. Those secrets never stay secrets for long. Genetics just decided I needed a longer and thicker dick than the average male for some reason. I didn’t just up and decide I have a big dick. Girls have told me so since I started whipping it out in high school trying to get it wet. It's one thing that got me into porn so quickly. It's really not even anything to brag about like most would think, because any real man that’s scored a few times knows that sometimes it's more of a fucking hassle than a good thing, especially with a tight pussy.

  I do know of one thing that should rid me of a boner quickly. I have a guaranteed turn off. One thing that fucking disgusts me is blood. It's always made me weak in the stomach. I have no desire to earn my redwings or fuck in a warzone. Anything that bleeds for several days and doesn’t die is immortal in my book, so I proceed with caution. My dipstick better come out just as clean as when I went for a lube check. It's nasty, it's unclean, it's uncalled for, and I get enough sex that I don't need it when a girl is on her rag.

  I uncover my face and I'm again staring face to tits at her cleavage as she picks up my now empty bottle. So much for getting rid of my hard-on… What's funny is I really don't think she's doing it on purpose like a girl trying to draw attention to herself. "The beer is fine."

  "Okay, then. Is there anything else I can get you?"

  I'm just now realizing she has an accent. It's sexy as hell to be honest. It's southern. It's been a long time since I've been around one of those. There is usually one reason an accent like that is this far from home, and that's to come out west to try and make it onto the big screen. Chasing Hollywood...

  I look at Michael, and then back at her nearly naked figure. "I do have a question."

  She blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Okay."

  "Are you here for an acting career, Kambry?"

  "Not really." She gives me a half smile. "I'm just here for something different than I'm used to, but my best friend is, so I guess I'm really just tagging along."

  I stand, finished with this conversation, and hoping like fuck I'm not as hard as I think I am, but I'm about ninety-nine point nine percent sure that I am. When you go through twenty-five years with something attached to you, there is no guessing when it decides to do what it was intended for at the worst fucking time. The only thing that keeps this from being an awkward situation is that most of the people that would take notice have probably seen my dick in its entirety, and in use.

  I place my hand on her neck, tilting her head back so that she is looking directly into my eyes. "That's unfortunate. Maybe you should rethink that answer."

  I press my body closer to hers, and her mouth parts when she feels my dick pressed against her. Her cheeks are quickly changing in shade, deepening from any color of red they’ve been so far. She noticeably swallows. "If you're here then there's clearly a reason. Keep an open mind, Kambry."

  I press my lips to hers to get a taste, a feel, because well...I wanted to. My tongue slides into the crevice between her lips. She makes no attempt to move, to stop me. Instead, her lips conform around mine and she touches her tongue to mine, just before I let her go. She stares into my eyes and touches her fingertips to her lips as if she's deciding whether that really happened or not and then realized it was a very bad idea upon confirmation. "Just let it happen."

  She'll figure out what that means. I look at Michael, and James - whom has been pretty damn quiet during this whole thing - both staring, watching it play out as if I've lost my fucking mind. Maybe I have. It is an upscale nightclub. "I'll call you tomorrow and give you an answer, even though I'm pretty sure I just confirmed what it's going to be." I smirk. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you if you want me to sign that line. Ladies first.” I wink. “Night boys. Thanks for the beer."

  I place my hand against her hip and close in beside her ear, whispering where only she can hear me. "Maybe I'll see you later, beautiful."

  Then I walk off, taking my fucking ass out of this club before I do something highly immoral to the general public, because that girl is not ready for me...yet.

  I make it to my locker and grab ahold of the swinging door after opening it, to steady myself while I remove my heels. My feet are killing me. Most heels are not made for wide-footed girls. I have small feet - petite yes, narrow no. Walking around in six-inch heels while carrying a tray full of drinks without falling or spilling anything is not that easy.

  I grab both stilettos in one fist, letting the shoes dangle of sorts while I pull my duffle bag out of my locker, sitting it on the bench behind me. Grabbing the zipper between my fingers, I unzip the bag and toss my heels inside, before digging around for my flip-flops and a ponytail holder. I yawn as I drop my shoes on the floor and slip my feet inside, letting the thong inch between my first two toes.

  I grab the bottom hem of my black dress and work the clingy fabric up my body, before pulling it over my head, leaving me in only panties, since clearly a full bra is not an option with this dress. I need comfortable clothes. I've been walking around in this getup long enough. I'm not even sure where Meredith is. I didn’t stop long enough when my shift ended to look for her. I'm just glad to finally be off. My head has been clouded for the last few hours. That doesn't have anything at all to do with a certain sexy stranger that decided to kiss me without asking or warning... No, not that.

  I drape my dress over the bench and remove my bra from my bag, putting it on, and then pull out my coral, cotton, V-neck tee shirt dress that stops just below my ass. These dresses have become my favorite thing to wear. When I found them in a local store, and at a steal of a price, I bought one in just about every color. It feels like wearing pajamas without looking like you are.

  I place my arms inside the armholes and slip it over my head, before dragging the fabric down my body until I'm fully covered. That feels so much better. The clean smell of laundry detergent causes me to turn my head to meet my shoulder. I sniff and close my eyes, letting it overwhelm my senses.

  I need to get going. My mattresses and purple satin sheets are calling my name. They’re the only things aside from my phone and clothes here and there I've purchased so far. My room is very much bare since I wasn't in the original plan when Meredith's parents set up her apartment. Until I can afford to buy the actual bed without dipping into my savings too much, my mattresses will remain on the floor in my room, but it's better than nothing, and it's mine.

  I quickly toss the rest of my things into my bag and quickly zip it up, then throw my hair into a messy bun and reach for my purse, before closing my locker, ready to go. I haven't even had a chance to think about tonight, how I did, whether I liked it or if I want to continue. It's different from the lower level, like two different worlds. I feel more relaxed downstairs. I don't know. If the money is that much better maybe I'll just get used to it.

  A tingling sensation runs across my lips, causing me to touch them and rub my fingertips horizontally across the bottom. I have a feeling ma
king out with him would be fun, but it's just a hunch I have. He’s so bold and confident. It’s a turn on. What guy just does that? That one second touch of our lips was more of a rush than any kissing I've done with Kyle. My hand traces down my neck where he had his hand. It feels like it's still there.

  You sound like a nutcase, Kambry.

  I wonder who he is...

  He doesn't look familiar...unfortunately. I'm pretty sure if I had watched a movie or something with him in it I would have remembered that face at least. He has a broody sex appeal about him, and most definitely cocky. Maybe he's a model or something. Or something... reminding me that he's probably a celebrity and kissing me was more of a joke or pun for something said. I should just forget it even happened.

  "What's up, Kambry?"

  I jump at the sound of Liam's voice and turn around, grabbing my bag off the bench. "Hey, Liam. I was just leaving. I have to hail a cab. Thanks for not getting mad about having to be assigned to me. It made it easier having a familiar face."

  "Are you kidding? I made more tips up there than I would have made all week downstairs. I should really thank you. Wait up and I'll walk out with you." He glances down my body. "Even though that outfit is better than the first, I don't really advise a girl that looks like you to walk around alone if you weren't born and raised around here."

  "Oh, okay. Thanks."

  He starts unbuttoning his white button-down that all bartenders are forced to wear unless we have a dress up night, and removes it, before tossing it into the uniform hamper that will be picked up by the cleaning service, followed by his black jeans. My eyes go directly to his torso. Damn, they have some hot guys around here. It's a little different than most of the country boys back home that drink too much beer to keep their bodies in that good of shape. I'm still surprised that the locker room is co-ed.

  He removes a pair of jeans and a tee shirt from his locker and pulls them on, a smile across his face when my eyes reach his. "So I’ve been meaning to ask for a while. Do you have a boyfriend, Kambry?"

  "Nah, we broke up before graduation. Different plans. You know how that goes. What about you?"

  His smile broadens as he pulls on a flat bill baseball cap, adjusting it into place. “I most definitely do not have a boyfriend.” He winks. “I prefer tits to pecs and holes to sticks.” He sticks out his tongue, his top teeth pressed down in the center, showing he’s being funny. “I also do not have a girlfriend either.” His eyes have migrated to my chest. He's a nice looking guy and he's been nothing but friendly the few times I've actually conversed with him, but I get a weird vibe he's not as nice as he comes off. Not in the platonic friendly sense anyway. Like he’s only friendly to get into your pants kind of thing. I don't know. It's hard to explain. That's probably really judgmental. He pulls on his high-top sneakers. "You have any plans? You could come hang out at my place for a little while. I have a sick view."

  "Thanks, Liam, but maybe another time. I'm kind of tired tonight. I think I just want to go home and crash. Sorry." He nods and grabs his things from his locker, shoving his wallet into his back pocket and his phone into the front.

  "No worries. I'll ask again. A girl that looks like you has to be worth a second offer."

  That's a little corny, even for me. "Uh. Thanks."

  He slams the metal door closed and walks toward me. "Let's go."

  I adjust the strap to my bag on my shoulder and do a double check to make sure I have everything, before pulling my phone out of my purse and unlocking it as I follow behind him. There is a voice message from Meredith. I hold the phone to my ear as I play it back. "Hey, sexy bitch!" I laugh out loud at her drunken voice as it plays. "Don't wait for me. I kind of found someone interesting, so I'll just see you at home." She giggles shamelessly with the phone to her ear. I can't hear music in the background, assuming she called already gone from the club. "Ohhhh, that feels nice."

  "Just wait till I get you out of this cab and strip you," a male voice says back, my eyes widening. That's my cue to delete the message, because she has obviously already forgotten she is recording. What comes after that statement I don't want to hear.

  I lock my phone as Liam holds the door for me to exit. Luckily there is already a cab waiting curbside. Perfect. "Do you want me to give you a ride? I'm parked out back."

  "That's okay. Thanks for the offer, but there is already a cab here needing to be utilized. Have a good night, Liam."

  I start to walk toward the cab as he veers in the direction of the employee parking lot. "Hey, Kambry." I look back. "You coming to Drake's summer employee pool party next week? You never did say. The guy has a pretty sweet crib."

  I haven't really thought about it to be honest. "Um, maybe. I’ll think about it and let you know, but probably." He did just offer me a raise. It would probably look bad if I didn't come.

  "Sweet. Come ready to drink. There will be tons of alcohol and food. Goodnight, Kambry," he says and finally walks off. I need to make sure Meredith can come with me. I'll relax more and possibly even have fun if she's there.

  I grab the door handle to the cab and open the door, before sliding on the back seat and rattling off the address without even paying attention as I shut the door, trying to situate all of my crap. "Driver, we're going to make a stop first."

  My head jerks to the side at the sound of that now familiar voice. "What are you doing here? Saxton, was it? Didn't you leave hours ago?"

  His eyes slowly roll down my body. I quickly grab my ponytail holder and slide it out of my hair, before combing my fingers through my hair quickly. He smirks when his eyes meet mine. "Curious I guess. Beer or liquor?"

  "What?"

  The driver pulls out into the street, not even paying us any attention. "Do you prefer beer or liquor?"

  "I prefer a bed and to stare at the back of my eyelids. I'm going home to sleep. Why?"

  He checks me out again, not even hiding it. My stomach flips. "You may be going home, but you aren't going to sleep. I didn't get to talk to you earlier. You piqued my interest. Just so happens I'm bored and on a temporary vacation from work. I'm not ready to crash out yet."

  "What makes you think I want to hang out with you? Do you really expect me to believe a guy like you wants to hang out with me and talk? I only let strangers in my panties on Friday. You're a day late. Darn." I snap my fingers in front of my face to be dramatic.

  He laughs. "Believe me, sexy, if I wanted to fuck you I wouldn't have to try to con you. I would have already done it by now and I’d be sitting at home on my couch watching television by the time you clocked out, so relax, get drunk, and be my friend. I'm going to say you're probably a fruity wine cooler kind of girl. A gas station on the way should be fine."

  "Uh, no it will not. I'm going home."

  "That's fine. I'm coming with you."

  "No you're not. I don't even know you."

  "I'm here and so are you. We are already going that way. You'll be fine. I've only been in jail once, for public intoxication back in college. Frat party and a bad prank on my friends' part. I solemnly swear I've never raped or murdered anyone." He winks.

  I face-palm myself and shake my head. I'm not getting anywhere. "Who exactly are you, Saxton? Why on God's green earth would you want to hang out with a cocktail waitress so bad? You were in the VIP section of a popular club, among a few people there I recognized. I know how much it costs to get up there. From what I hear privacy here is costly. I may not know you, but I'm not stupid. Maybe I should just Google you. What's your last name?"

  I hold out my phone in front of me and he grabs it out of my hand, sliding it into his pocket. "No the fuck you aren't going to Google me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe sometimes people here want to go back to being normal, even if only for a few hours? I may like it that you have no idea who I am. Humor me. Can you do that without being a pain in my ass?"

  My head falls back against the seat and I close my eyes. A guy invades my night, forces me to stay awake to party, basically t
ells me I'm being an annoying pain in the ass by asking questions, and somehow I still feel guilty. What is wrong with this situation? I exhale abruptly. "Mike's hard lemonade."

  I lift my head from the seat and roll it to the side so that I can look at him. My blonde hair forms a curtain over one eye as it falls toward the center of my face. His dirty blonde hair is sticking up all over the top of his head as if he's been running his fingers through the front. Good lord he's hotter than I remember. Maybe it's that I'm not at work and in the center of everyone watching me. "That's what I've been drinking lately when Mer-my roommate wants to party. By the way, if you turn out to be some kind of psycho killer I will come back and haunt your ass."

  His smile comes back full force. "I knew you'd see it my way."

  I roll my eyes. "You're just lucky you're hotter than my last offer and my roommate decided to go party without me. Don't let it go to your head."

  ***

  The cab pulls up to my apartment complex and stops. Saxton hands him a stack of bills folded down the center as I open the door and place one foot on the ground. I move the strap on my duffle bag to the opposite shoulder so that the weight is more evenly balanced across my body. Once I have all of my stuff, I exit the cab and automatically turn around to reach in and grab the six pack of Mike's hard lemonade so he can get his beer, but he waves me out. "I got it. You have enough of a load between that bag and your purse. Just lead the way."

  "Okay." I adjust my purse strap on my arm and start walking toward the exterior stairs to the upper floors. I can hear the door to the cab shut and then his footsteps across the sidewalk.

  We climb the concrete steps until we reach the third floor, almost immediately standing in front of my door, since it's just past the stairs. When I am staring at the metal number that hangs on my door I look back at him briefly. He's waiting for me to open it. Well this is a little more awkward now that we're here...with no middle-aged cabbie sitting up front. I purse my lips together. I cannot believe I'm letting someone in my apartment that I just met, literally. Doesn't this go against the grain of everything my parents have told me not to do since the day I could remember anything they told me?