fisting in his and his warm breath down the side of my neck mattering at all.
“Stay,” he said.
So I did.
2
Cameron
The knocking on the door jolted me awake, and I sat up in bed, trying to get my bearings. It was dark in the hotel room, only that line of white between the curtains which let me know it was well past dawn, and if I opened them, I’d be blinded. Normally that wasn’t the case. I beat the sunrise on a regular basis, finishing my morning run right as the daystar rose, so already my schedule was off. Turning, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and checked the time.
Oh dear God.
“Cam! Are you up?”
“Of course I’m up!” I yelled defensively at the door connecting my room with that of my business associate, Doug Taylor. If we were friends, I probably wouldn’t have yelled, but I’d only met him for the first time at the airport the day before when I picked him up. I, of course, had gotten a rental—didn’t want to put excess miles on my own car—to make the drive from Pacifica, California, where I lived, to Sacramento, as it was only ninety miles. I always got a lot of phone calls taken care of while I was on the road. It worked out well, I got to Sacramento in time to pick him up at the airport there, and together we drove to the hotel downtown.
Both Doug and I worked for Berg and Stein, him in LA in contract law and me in San Francisco in accounting. We were there in Sac to meet with the people at the Rauch Group and let them know what our findings were on their proposed acquisition of Dunbar Holdings. Our first meeting on this already horrible Thursday morning was in forty-five minutes, and I hadn’t even showered. What in the world was going on?
Turning to get out of the bed, realizing I’d been lying under a sheet and nothing else, my evening came back to me in a wave of images.
Everything, all of it, was so unlike me. I had never, ever had sex with a stranger before. I was the careful one, the guy who maybe thought about sex after the third date, if things were going really well and the other person and I had similar life goals.
It was insane that I had invited someone into my room, into my bed—into my body—and never even gotten a name. That wasn’t me. In fact, it was so completely not me that if I told anyone, they’d never believe me in a million years. I was far more likely to rob a bank than have a one-night stand.
Crazy.
And yet…
The bed was wrecked, I was naked, and I felt a shiver run through me that had nothing to do with the arctic temperature of the room, but instead with the slight twinge in my ass when I sat up, that felt more warm than uncomfortable. My body had been well-used, and I couldn’t remember that ever being the case.
Who was he?
I recalled miles of sleek tan skin over carved, corded muscle; big, strong capable hands holding mine; the beard on the side of my neck; lips stretching around my cock; and those honey-brown eyes crinkling in half with a smile. I had to take a moment to breathe.
“Cam, can you open the door?”
I could, but why would I want to? If I had been traveling with Nadav or Whip, it would have been a different story. I would have needed to ask them if I looked any different, because I certainly felt that way. By the same token, if I’d been with Nadav or Whip, we would have gotten one room with double beds, and I would have never met the guy I spent the night with because I would have been spending time with a friend.
“I have to get in the shower,” I answered almost angrily, and then it hit me that maybe Doug had gotten his name.
After finding my pajama bottoms and T-shirt and pulling both on, I bolted to the door, unlocked it, and threw it open, startling Doug, who had turned away, I was guessing, to get in the shower himself.
“Jesus!” he yelled, gripping the edge of the desk beside the door, in the same location as the one in my room.
It took me a second to get my bearings, because he looked as though he’d been run over by a truck, and it was both