The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

I slowly opened the door and was completely unprepared for the sexiness on the other side. The peephole had acted as a filter; it certainly hadn’t shown me the depth of this hot, sizzling Dalton steam.

Camden was in a navy suit and white shirt, his gold tie loose at his throat. He was holding the doorframe with both hands, putting his weight into his arms, leaning as close to me as he could get. But his head was down, like he was deep in thought. His face was hidden, his messy, short, dark, gelled hair the only thing that was pointed at me.

“Camden …”

His head gradually lifted, and his ocean-blue eyes connected with mine.

His perfect, soft, thick lips parted.

His small, sloped nose and angular cheeks and square jaw and heavy scruff were now all facing me.

Oh God.

A wave of tingles blasted through my entire body.

In a way that I hadn’t expected.

In a way that made it even harder for me to breathe.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

His gaze stayed on my face for several seconds and then began to travel down my body at a speed that was achingly slow. He stalled at my chest and stomach before going all the way to my feet.

Silence continued to tick between us.

But in that moment-the period where I felt like I was naked and on full display, his watchful eyes taking in every inch of my body-I wrapped my arms around my navel and said, “Hi.” I paused, waiting, receiving nothing but a heavier gaze. “You never replied, so I didn’t think you were going to show up.”

“Surprise.” He licked across both lips. “Unless you don’t like surprises?”

My foot was holding the door, and I dropped an arm from my waist to open the door a bit wider. “This was a good one.” My smile hadn’t faded at all. “Do you want to come in?”

“I want to know something first.” His head still low, he looked at me through his lashes, an expression on his face, like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Sure.” My throat was heavy and tight. “Anything.”

“Me. This.” He stalled. “Is that really what you want?”

I didn’t have to think.

I’d already done plenty of that over the last year.

“Yes, Camden, it’s what I want.”

His hand left the wooden frame and moved to his face, where he rubbed his fingers down the side of his short, trimmed beard. “Then, we’re going to do it my way.”

“What does that mean?”

He nodded toward me. “What do you have in there to drink?”

I moved out of the doorway to allow him inside, and he walked into my kitchen. Since this was the same apartment I’d shared with his sister, he was already familiar with where everything was located. He opened the cabinet next to the stove and took out the bottle of vodka, pouring some into a glass before adding ice.

With the open concept, I was able to see him from the couch in the living room, where he eventually joined me. That was when I got a whiff of his cologne. An aroma that was as captivating as his eyes and his presence-a strong wind of citrus with a robust blend of woods.

I was positive I’d smelled it before, but it was more prominent tonight.

Or maybe I was just soaking in every detail since this was the evening when everything was going to change.

An evening I was never going to forget.

“Oaklyn …” He traced the lip of the glass with the inside of his thumb. God, even his regular, simple movements reeked of lust. “You’ve put me on this sexual pedestal, and I promise to fulfill every need you have.” He rested his forearms on his thighs, holding the drink between his spread legs. “But I want to make something very clear. I’m not Prince Charming. Hell, I’m probably no better than any guy you’ve dated.” He wet his lips, licking across the top of them. “Oaklyn, you’ve known me forever, so you know I don’t do emotions or relationships. I don’t do soft or tender or any of that kind of shit you might be looking for. I’ll give you whatever you want physically, but that’s where it ends.”

Every time he mentioned my needs, there was a twinge in that spot.

A tightening.

A dampening.

And it wasn’t soft and tender, the way he had described.

This feeling was vicious.

“I understand,” I told him.

“Have you changed your mind?”

I lifted my wine off the table, holding it with both hands as I raised it to my lips. I sipped and swallowed. “No.”

“You’re not afraid of me …”

He hadn’t phrased it like a question. More like he was shocked to discover this.

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Because you think I wouldn’t hurt you, but you’re wrong. I would.” He turned the drink in his hands, the ice rattling, but he kept his eyes on me. “When I walk away from this, it could crush you. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to know that, going in. I just won’t want more, Oaklyn. More isn’t me. And we’ll forever be tied to each other through Hannah, so I’ll continue being in your life after this. I want you to be prepared for how that might feel.”

Even if I wanted him to, I didn’t expect my best friend’s twin brother to fall in love with me.

Even if I wanted more, I didn’t expect this to extend beyond our one night together.

I was naive, but not that naive.

I knew what I’d asked for and was fully prepared to take it and watch him walk away.

“You’re assuming I’m looking for more. I’m not. This is about you taking my virginity and showing me all the ways to please a man, nothing else.”

His eyes narrowed, and he swirled some vodka around in his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing as it went down his throat. “You’re going to have to prove that to me, which is why we’re going slow and doing things my way. I’m going to show you how I’m the opposite of Prince Charming, and you’re going to show me you can handle that.”

“How?”

“First, you’re going to do a little homework. You’re going to watch some porn, talk to friends-not my sister. You’re going to recall every fantasy you’ve ever had. You do whatever you have to do to come up with a list of three things you want to try. Not sex. They can be anything but sex, and we’re going to turn those three fantasies into lessons. The fifth lesson, which I’m pretty positive we won’t make it to, is when I’ll take your virginity.”

I did some quick math in my head. “Five lessons? But you asked me to come up with three?”

“That’s because lesson one will be my pick, not yours.”

My skin was on fire.

My heart was pounding so hard that I was convinced he could hear it.

“But, Oaklyn, all of this is under one condition, and if I get a feeling that condition has been broken, we’re done.”

Now, even my ears were burning. “What’s the condition?”

“You can’t fall in love with me.”

Love.

Something my best friend would shoot me for.

But something I could certainly see being possible if we were going to share so many intimate moments together.

And that was when I realized the whole point of drawing this out.

Each lesson was a test. A way for me to prove that I wasn’t falling for him. But if I couldn’t do that, if he sensed my emotions were coming into play, we were over.

Camden didn’t think I was up for this kind of challenge.