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goosebumps. He kisses the bottom of my breast before his lips trail all the way down to my navel. "You writhing beneath me."
    "I'm not writhing," I gasp.
    "You aren't yet." He kisses my stomach before I feel him working the strings of my bikini bottom. When I'm untied, he peels the fabric away, a slow reveal, kissing my mound before he tugs my bottoms all the way off me. Kneeling between my legs, he pushes my knees apart as far as they'll go. "You're already wet for me, Britain."
    I've been wet for him since he crawled through my window, but he doesn't need to know that.
    I can't keep my eyes off his hard dick, wondering if he's going to use it on me. But the fantasy that Jaime told me about didn't involve him screwing me.
    He slides down until he's on his stomach, and his face is right above my pussy. When he kisses the inside of my thigh, my eyes roll back, and I feel his tongue on my clit. He gives me a good, hard lick and whispers, "Jesus, I forgot how good you taste."
    My fingernails scrape against his head as his tongue laps at me relentlessly, sucking and nipping. I whisper his name, the sound of it escaping my mouth giving me as much of a rush as his ministrations. "Jaime... fuck."
    From somewhere down the hall, door slams. Jaime freezes.
    "Cam," I mutter.
    "You lock your door?" he whispers against me.
    "Can't remember." Cam never bothers me when I'm in my room. The likelihood of him catching me with Jaime is next to nothing. My parents, on the other hand, don’t bother to knock. But they wouldn’t be in this end of the house so late.
    His teeth scrape against my clit and I buck my hips. Two of his fingers slide into me, and he pumps them in and out of me quickly, picking up his pace, like he knows how close I am to coming. I whisper his name again, and I feel his pinkie slipping lower, the tip of it finding my asshole and circling slowly, massaging me.
    He sucks hard on my clit and I bite hard on my bottom lip as I come, trying to muffle the noises escaping my throat so Cam doesn't hear me. When I've come down, Jaime crawls upward, kissing my navel, then the valley between my breasts, my neck, and finally my mouth. I can taste myself on him.
    I realize this is the first time we ’ve kissed since Boston, and I grip his neck and bring him to me again, deepening the kiss until my tongue fights with his.
    He finally kisses my forehead, rolls from me, and starts to dress. This is the second time he's gotten me off without asking for anything back. It's like he's asking for a serious case of blue balls.
    He says nothing until he's pulled on all of his clothes. Standing by the dark window, he looks at me and says, "Your dad invited me to dinner on Friday. Try not to drool all over the table."
    Asshole.

CHAPTER FOUR

    The weekend luncheon makes me want to gag.
    It's held on a private landscaped manicured lawn. The table's centerpieces are floral and gaudy, my china plates and cup more expensive than everything I own put together. About three-hundred guests are in attendance, the women all dressed in chic sundresses from designer boutiques.
    Mine doesn't fit me right, per usual.
    After I've devoured my salad and tiny square of salmon, I wait for the dessert course as Cam and my parents are off mingling. I rest my elbow on the table and start texting from my lap.
    "Exciting, isn't it?"
    I start, glancing up. Micah Greene, son of the CEO whose company my dad is hoping to merge with, grins at me.
    "Enthralling." I return to my texting.
    "You know, Britain, I was hoping we could talk."
    My eyes slowly flit up to find his again. Micah is grinning. He smiles a lot, and knows how to use it. I'm sure dozens of women have told him how adorable his smile is. Micah is handsome and rich and suave, so he probably thinks that wooing any girl is as easy as grinning.
    "I'm a huge fan of yours ,” he says, and immediately I know he's talking about the magazine.
    I'm caught off guard, and accidentally laugh nervously.
    "Don't be shy," he