Playing By The Rules (The Players)
Playing By The Rules: Chapter 23

I DO as Cam says and don’t bother changing into something else or putting on makeup or whatever. He seems perfectly content to see me in my natural state, which is…nice.

I’m wearing a cropped black tank that’s more of a sports bra and a pair of baggy gray Nike sweatpants that have wide legs and make me feel like a cool girl. As in, right on trend. After I brush my hair, I shove my feet into slides and am about to exit my bedroom when I have a realization.

I’m going to need to give a reason to my roommates as to why I’m leaving after nine o’clock at night. Something I haven’t normally done since we all moved in together. Rita and Cheyenne are out in the living room right now. I can hear them talking, the low hum of music playing. They were supposed to be working on homework together but that never seems to happen when they do it at home. They get too caught up in chatting and gossiping, which I totally get. This is why I study by myself. At the library.

Struck by my new idea, I grab my backpack from where I left it on top of my desk and sling it over my shoulder before I leave my bedroom and make my way to the living room. The girls stop talking the moment they spot me.

“Where are you going?” Rita’s voice is sly, like she knows exactly what I’m up to.

“The library,” I say firmly, lifting my chin. Like I’m daring her to defy my words. “I need to study for a test tomorrow.”

“At this time of night?” Cheyenne asks, sounding like my mom.

Speaking of, I haven’t talked to her in a while. I need to call her. Maybe tomorrow.

I shrug. “The library is open till midnight. I can’t concentrate here anyway. I need to go somewhere with no distractions.”

“Are we too loud?” Cheyenne’s expression turns contrite and she and Rita share a look. “We’ll be quiet. Promise.”

“It’s not your guys’ fault. I’m in my room trying to go over my notes and I’d rather watch something on Netflix. Or paint my toenails. Anything but study.” I offer them both a smile. “You guys are fine. This is a me problem.”

A me needing to see Cam problem, more like.

“Totally understand,” Rita says with a nod. “Studying sucks.”

Says the STEM major. It’s all she does, when she’s not chasing after guys or arguing with her best friend.

But I’ve come to respect Rita. And Cheyenne too. They’re a little over the top and when they start yelling at each other, it can be a bit much, but they’re easy to get along with. They’re clean and respectful too. I have zero problems with them. Right now, I’m the shady one, sneaking out to see Cam and lying to them about it.

“Yeah.” I tighten my grip on my backpack strap. “It does. See you guys later.”

“Be safe out there!” Cheyenne shouts after I open the door and am halfway out of the apartment.

“Will do!” I shout back, slamming the door behind me.

Damn. I feel like a shit. And if all goes well, I’m not coming back for hours.

Sure hope they don’t stay up and wait for me.

Not even ten minutes later, I’m standing on Cam and Knox’s doorstep, raising my fist to knock when the door swings open. Cam is shirtless, clad in only a pair of training shorts that hang perilously low on his hips, and he grabs my raised hand, yanking me into the mostly dark apartment.

“You took forever,” he scolds, his hands moving to wrap around my upper arms. He turns me so I’m leaning against the now closed door, shifting closer. Pinning me with his body. “How did you get here anyway?”

Silly man. He didn’t even think to ask when he flipped out over me walking last time. “I have a car now.”

It’s been in the shop the last couple of weeks because of a recalled part and I didn’t really mind because I don’t drive far. Everything I need is on campus or close by.

“Good.” His voice is firm. “But you should’ve been here five minutes ago.”

I roll my eyes. “I have roommates. They were questioning where I was going.” I’m breathless thanks to the wall of heat pressed against me. I’m not even looking at his face any longer. I can only stare at his chest, taking in all of his bare skin on display.

All I want to do is touch it. Touch him. Kiss and lick my way down his chest…

“What did you tell them?”

I tilt my head back to replace he’s staring at my lips. I lick them with a quick swipe of my tongue and his gaze flares with heat. “I said I was going to the library to study.”

“Study.” His smile is faint. “Good one.”

I settle my hands on his pecs because I have nowhere else to put them, and his eyelids flutter. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“I know.” His smile grows. He looks pleased with himself. “Figured I’d give you a good look at my abs. Then you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

“You’re so arrogant.” I slide my hands down over his pecs and his ribs, mentally counting the muscled ridges in his stomach. “I might be able to resist you. I come from a family of athletes, you know. I’ve seen a lot of firm abs in my life.”

“None like mine, babe.” He stops my hand just as it reaches the waistband of his shorts. “Let’s go to my room.”

“Nothing like getting right to it, huh?” Nerves gnaw at my insides, making me feel shaky.

“More like I don’t want your brother to come home unexpectedly and catch us,” he says, his expression solemn.

Oh shit. I didn’t even think of that.

He takes my hand and leads me through the apartment. Even though there isn’t any real light on, beyond the one shining through the open doorway of his bedroom, I still try and check out their living space. It’s usually clean, but I don’t come here that often and this is an unexpected visit. Thankfully, it doesn’t smell bad in here—a good sign. Men can be such pigs. And outwardly it appears fairly neat. Just like it did when I was here making them dinner.

Now I brace myself for Cam’s bedroom. If it’s a total pigsty, that’ll be a dealbreaker. I’m a neat freak. Some people view this as a flaw and my sister has accused me of having OCD on more than one occasion, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.

I like being clean, what can I say?

Cam pulls me into his room, shutting and locking the door behind me, and I’m able to take a casual glance around the mostly clean room when he shoves me against the door and proceeds to kiss the shit out of me.

I know that doesn’t sound pleasant, but trust me when I say the man has magical lips and wandering hands, and I’m not protesting when he kisses me for long, tongue-filled minutes. There are lots of sighs and soft groans and a couple of whimpers—those come from me—and the sound of clothing shifting. My clothing. As in, he’s got his hands under my sweats and is kneading my butt with his fingers.

Finally breaking the kiss so I can catch a decent breath, I gasp when he lifts my ass, causing me to automatically wrap my legs around his hips. He presses his erection against me, right at my core, and I moan, knocking the back of my head against the door, my eyes falling closed. “You feel so good.”

“I could fuck you like this,” he murmurs. I crack my eyes open to see his fiercely intense expression as he rubs his hard cock against me. “You’re at the perfect height.”

He flexes his hips, hitting a particular spot that has me seeing stars, and I thunk my head against the door yet again, overcome by the sensations rolling through me. All we’ve done is kiss with a little bit of fondling and I’m already on edge. Ready to fall right over it with a few calculated strokes or touches. I swear the man could just look at me and I’d probably spontaneously combust.

“Watch it,” he whispers, removing one hand from my ass to slip it behind my head. “Don’t want to hurt yourself.”

“You sound very proud,” I whisper back. “Look at what you make me do.”

“I can’t help it that I drive you out of your mind.” He presses his face into the crook of my neck, breathing deep. “Fuck, you smell good.”

“It’s my perfume,” I tell him. I spritzed so much on myself before I left the apartment, I’m surprised my roommates didn’t call me out on it. Who needs to wear that much perfume to go study at the library?

“I love that shit.” His lips move against my neck, making me shiver. “Your skin is so soft here.”

Before I can respond, he starts kissing me there, blazing a trail with his hot mouth down the length of my neck. I arch my head back, giving him better access, panting louder with every touch of his tongue on my skin. And when he bites me, his teeth making my flesh sting when they gently clamp down, I cry out.

He pauses. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. “Do it again.”

He licks and kisses and nibbles on my neck. My shoulder. His fingers slide the strap of my tank down, but it doesn’t move much, thanks to it being really tight spandex. A frustrated growl leaves him and he gives it a good shove, my left breast popping out, my nipple aching for his mouth.

Cam covers it with his hand, squeezing and kneading my flesh. Eventually removing all of his fingers but one, drawing it in circles around my nipple, making it grow even harder if that’s possible.

When he dips his head and swipes his tongue across the bit of flesh, I immediately clamp my hands around the back of his head, keeping him there. He sucks and licks it, his other hand tugging on the strap on my right shoulder, until my other breast is exposed too.

“Fuck.” He groans just as he gathers me in his arms and carries me over to his bed, dumping me onto the mattress, so I land with a little bounce.

“Cam—” I can only choke the one word out before he’s on me. Crawling over me, pressing his big, heavy body onto mine. I welcome the weight, savoring the feel of him, a sigh of pleasure leaving me when his mouth replaces mine.

We kiss and grind, essentially dry humping each other like we’re teens who can’t take it too far because we have a curfew, but oh my God, it’s glorious, having Cam Fields rub his thick dick against me, showing me what he can do without actually doing it. My skin is electrified, my core aching with the need to be filled, and I seriously can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed a make-out session so much.

Maybe never.

“We need to get this off you,” he mutters after he’s ended our kiss. He rises above me, his hands busy, tugging on the bottom of my cropped tank. I throw my hands up, giggling when he struggles, and eventually, I take over, pulling the suddenly too tight tank off and over my head, tossing it onto the floor.

He pauses, staring at me, his gaze skimming over my shoulders. My chest. My stomach. I just lie there and let him look his fill, not embarrassed. He’s the one who’s essentially straddling my body and studying me as if he wants to eat me alive. “You’re beautiful.”

I squirm, vaguely uncomfortable with his compliment.

“You are.” Cam drifts his fingers across my stomach, toying along the edge of my sweats. Goose bumps rise on my skin from his touch. “Whatcha got on under those sweatpants, B?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I suck in a breath when he tugs on the drawstring.

“I would.” He slips his fingers beneath the gathered waistband, sliding down. Down… “You are such a bad girl, Bumblebee.”

“Bumblebee?” I’m breathless. Unable to think when he’s got his fingers so close to my pussy.

“Your new nickname. You like it?” He dips his head, his mouth brushing mine, teeth nibbling at my lower lip before he pulls away. “You’re not wearing panties. Again.”

“What’s the point?” I ask weakly, spreading my legs slightly when his fingers slip lower.

“I like the way you think.” He’s grinning, his smile devilish, his touch sent straight from heaven when he slides his fingers downward to completely cup my pussy. “We should get rid of these.”

The sweats are gone in an instant, leaving me completely naked and still pinned beneath him. He’s straddling me, his knees on either side of my thighs, his hands braced on the pillow my head rests on. He kisses me, soft and sweet, his tongue doing a thorough sweep, and when he pulls away, I try to follow him, lifting my head. Needing more.

His smile tells me he knows this, his mouth replaceing my ear. My neck. Drifting across my chest, my breasts, tongue teasing my nipples. His lips coast across my stomach, kissing one hipbone, then the other. Until I’m a panting, squirming mess, watching him drift his mouth across my lower belly, right above my pubic hair.

“You want me?” His gaze lifts to mine, dark and naughty. “Here?”

His fingers trace the seam of my pussy, never quite dipping inside.

I nod frantically, my heart racing in anticipation.

“I can smell you.” He presses his face into my skin, breathing deep. “Better than the perfume.”

He has a thing for the way I smell, and it’s kind of hot.

“Spread your legs, B.” His big hands go to the insides of my thighs, pushing them wide open. “And get ready.”

I’ve had men go down on me before. Most of the time, they don’t know what they’re doing. As in, they can’t figure out what feels good or what’s going to make me come. Of course, I’m not the most comfortable when it comes to expressing my needs to a man while I’m having sex with him. I don’t moan and scream and carry on like I’m participating in an exorcism.

Look, I watch porn. I’ve seen the way some of those women ‘act.’ Heavy emphasis on the last word. They thrash about as if they’re having a seizure and sex has never, ever been like that for me.

But the moment I feel Cam’s lips on my most intimate parts, I about shoot off the bed. He licks and sucks everywhere, leaving no part of me untouched. It’s almost embarrassing, how thoroughly he searches me with his tongue, his big hands braced on my inner thighs, keeping me spread open for him.

It’s so fucking hot. I can hardly take it.

His tongue toys with my clit, teasing it. Circling it, sucking it between his lips. He massages my thighs, his hands slipping downward, close to my ass, giving it a squeeze before he slips his hands all the way around my butt, holding me to him as he feasts on my pussy. There is seriously no other way to describe it.

The man is devouring me.

Everything inside me tingles with every stroke of his tongue. My skin is on fire and I’m panting, my heart racing, like I can’t catch my breath. I feel like I could black out at any moment, and when he slides a finger inside me, his lips wrapped tightly around my clit, that’s it.

I’m coming.

Oh God, I’m screaming.

It’s like I’m having an out of body experience. Like my soul just slipped from my body and drifted above it for a moment, staring down at the picture we make. Cam’s head buried between my legs, my hands gathering the comforter fabric in my fists, like I needed to clutch something or else I’d slip away completely.

When I finally come to, it’s only to realize I’ve now got my hands in his hair and I’m trying to shove him away from me with my feet on his shoulders, and he’s chuckling.

Laughing.

I swear to God, he’s Satan wrapped up in a sexy, ab-tastic package.

He’s still chuckling, wiping his face against the inside of my thigh because, oh my God, did I like, squirt or whatever? I didn’t even think that was actually possible.

“I-I don’t normally do that,” I finally say to him, once I’ve found my voice.

“Do what?”

“Shout.” I meet his gaze, wincing. “Why? Did I do—something else?”

“Define something else.”

“I can’t.” I cover my face with my hands, suddenly mortified. The man had his face all up in my private parts only moments ago and suddenly I’m embarrassed? What is wrong with me?

He shifts so he’s lying next to me, and he peels my hands off my face, his gaze warm and sexy and oh so comforting when I finally stare into his eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I came really hard,” I say, my voice small. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

“Keep talking.”

I swat at his chest. “I’m not trying to feed your ego. I’m trying to be real with you.”

“Well, you’re doing both.” He leans in, brushing my mouth with his and I can taste myself on his lips. “And it was hot, the way you shouted my name.”

“Cam…”

He kisses me again, essentially shutting me up with his lips, and I lose myself in his kiss for a while. The expert stroke of his tongue. I can feel his heavy erection press into me, reminding me that the poor man is probably suffering from a serious case of blue balls and I slide my hand down his chest, slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, pausing at my discovery.

I break the kiss, raising my brows when he opens his eyes. “You’re just as bad, Camden.”

“What makes you say that?” The defiant tone of his voice tells me he already knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“You’re not wearing any underwear either.” I am touching warm skin, pubic hair tickling my fingers. I shift lower, my fingers grazing his shaft, and he hisses in a breath. “You’re bad, Cam.”

“Just like you. Looks like we’re a perfect match.”