Chapter 11
Chapter 11
I fill up my tub and dump in some strawberry bubble bath. Then I step in. The smell is already making
me happier.
I start to wash myself off, rubbing his scent off of me, but touching my slick skin reminds me of him. My
eyes close as I think up yet another fantasy.
“Show me your tits,” he growls.
I quickly take off my shirt and bra, dumping them on the floor next to the couch. I’m sprawled out, legs
wide, just like he likes. My thong is in his hand. He’s sniffing it.
Then he’s on his feet, coming over to straddle my body on his couch. It’s a tight fit, but he’s managing
it. His cock is out of his pants, but he’s still mostly clothed.
He has pre-come dripping out of it, and his hand is spreading it all over himself before he puts his dick
in the center of my chest.
“Push your tits together.”
My hands are on the outside of my breasts, pushing them together, creating a soft tunnel.
His eyes are closed as he starts to pump his dick through my breasts. His mouth is hanging open. His
dick comes very close to my mouth every time he thrusts forward. He’s thrusting in a steady rhythm.
I’m watching his dick come close to my mouth every other second.
So I stick out my tongue and lick him on an upstroke.
He roars as he shoots his come on my face, on my tits, on my neck, everywhere.
When he’s done, he kisses me gently.
“You’re so perfect for me, Camilla. I love you.”
I’m crying now. The bath water is getting cold. I smell like strawberries and regret. I’m sad that I want
someone who won’t take my virginity. I don’t think I mean much to him. Kelly lost hers to a boyfriend
when she was sixteen, but I’ve held onto mine. It’s always been a fantasy of mine that I’d lose it to This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.
Lincoln.
Stupid girl.
He doesn’t care about me. He wants me to find someone who loves me, which means that he definitely
doesn’t. The only time he’ll ever tell me that he loves me is in my daydreams.
My tears are dripping down my cheeks and into the bath water. I pull the plug out of the drain and
watch the suds slide down the drain, just like all my hopes and dreams.
Camping
Camilla
ONE YEAR AGO
“I’m going to scout that unmarked trail that the volunteers told us about. I’ll be back in three hours. You
two make dinner, okay?” My dad likes alone time, so it’s not a surprise that he’s disappearing for a little
while. He likes to leave me by myself for a while on the weekends.
But this time, I’m not alone.
“Sure,” Lincoln tells him cheerfully. “We’ll make dinner before you get back.”
“Are you sure it’s safe? I mean, they just cut it. Not a lot of people have used it lately.”
“It’s fine,” my dad says. “Just grill some trout and I’ll be back before you know it. We still have some
sweet potatoes left. I’ll be back before dark.”
He walks into the forest. I can see his backpack get smaller and smaller as he goes deeper into the
forest, and then he turns and the trees hide him. I can still hear him walking, but the sound is fading.
And now I’m alone with his best friend, also known as my lifelong crush. When I was five, I told
everyone at my birthday party that my birthday wish was to marry Lincoln, which made everyone there
hysterical. Except for his mean fiancée, Marcia. She gave me the stink eye and spent the rest of my
birthday party drinking a lot of wine. She only lasted for a week after that, though. Link hadn’t ever said
much about it, other than that she was totally psycho.
“I’ll grill the trout if you take care of the sweet potatoes.”
“Deal.”
I bend over to hunt through our supplies. It takes me a minute to finally find the bag of sweet potatoes,
which is a lot smaller than I thought it would be. There’s a roll of aluminum foil next to it. When I turn
around with the bag of sweet potatoes and foil in my hands, I can see Lincoln staring at me.
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