Free Adrenaline: An Ode to Love and Heartbreak by Sunniva Dee, Clarise Tan Page A

baby. Try ‘shit.’”
    “How ’bout ‘you’re, like, the opposite of nice-looking,’” I suggest instead, tipping my chin up in fake question.
    “Well, you look delicious. Here, here, kitty,” he teases. “Hurry, deadbolt the door.” Clearly, even though Whistler chewed up and spit him out this past weekend, Cameron’s doing fine. His eyes gleam with amusement, expecting some smartass remark from me instead of compliance—and his lips… are quite kissable at the moment. Those are two reasons, right there, for me to slam the deadbolt in place.
    Back by his side, I climb on top of his covers and straddle his hips. Cameron sobers quickly, that playful smirk draining from his features as realization sets in; the boy might just get lucky.
    “Hey, you,” he murmurs, waiting for my next move. I don’t leave him in suspense. I lean down. Feather light, I place my lips on his. There’s a small rift in his lower lip where the skin is smoother and tastes of blood. I lick it. Cameron’s response is a low-pitched grunt that puckers my nipples.
    Strong arms launch up and grab my waist, pulling me flat against his body. Firm and sinuous beneath my frame, he juts his hips upward, making me experience firsthand how he hardens with my nearness.
    “Hey, yourself,” I purr out. Then, I rock on top of him. Cam is all for my sexy game. With both palms cupping my butt, he presses me closer, his body’s movements perfectly in sync with my own as we make out.
    “Fuck—can you come by more often? I like your visits,” he whispers. Eager fingers roam under my shirt, pulling it up. His mouth goes to my throat, suckling, biting, and letting out little groans of desire. My own hands slip beneath the covers on both sides where I can caress him, skim lower… until I find him between us.
    I sink down on the mattress on one side, and he instantly takes advantage. Nudges me flat on my back so he has full overview when he scrunches my top up over my breasts. The bra goes next, and suddenly I’m bare, with a scorching green stare perusing my skin.
    “Ingela.”
    “Mm-hmm?” I arch my spine a little on purpose, which doesn’t go unnoticed. He pushes underneath my upper body with one hand, securing me in this position and leaving my miniscule boobs inches from his face. Cameron lowers his head and brushes light stubble over one nonexistent mound, then the other. My response is swift; goose bumps spread across my body, culminating in nipples that become hard nubs against his lips.
    “I fucking adore your tits,” he hisses. I don’t blush often. I do now.
    When he comes up to meet my stare, shades of purple and black adorn his eyes. Again, I think of meticulously applied war paint. A pang of heat rushes down my belly to my sex. Cameron is a soldier of primitive pasts ready to conquer.
    I’m pulsating.
    Fainter bruises spread random patterns across his ribs, chest, and down to his briefs. He doesn’t leave me to consider for long before he pulls them off, showing me, feeding me—
    Himself.

All things considered, I’ve been doing great since Bo’s and my phone conversation a week ago. He has kept his word, leaving me alone according to my initial plea. The sting of having begged him to reconsider has eased. With Cameron’s return from Whistler, we’ve been hanging out, and now I actually feel relief over Bo not coming to shake up my calm existence.
    It’s Thursday night at Smother, the start of the student weekend in our little college town. The club is packed. Leon stands by the DJ booth, an elbow on the glass, scouring the clientele from afar and ducking heads with Robin. He loses focus on their convo, though, eyes lighting up as always when he sees Arriane pass by. She gives him a flirty wave of her fingertips, and he smirks back at her. The girl has it made. Both of them do.
    She drops off a stack of dirty glasses with Manuel in the kitchen before returning to me. “Cam’s alone in the patio bar,” she shouts. “Are