Sweet Submission, page 8
what it would be like to lay here…waiting for his touch…
I stop, realizing something for the first time. A hot, successful guy like Cam would definitely have his pick of the ladies, but there’s no hint of a girlfriend or woman in the apartment. When I poke through the bedroom drawers, I find condoms but nothing that looks like it belongs to a woman. If he does have a girlfriend, she’s definitely not allowed to leave her stuff here. There’s not even a second toothbrush or extra razor in the shower.
I’ve almost finished my tour of the apartment when a staircase in the hall grabs my attention. I didn’t realize there was another floor. I climb up to the top, but the door doesn’t open when I try it. Locked. Right away, I feel a shiver of anticipation. What kind of secrets does Cameron McCullough keep under lock and key? I’m dying to find out.
My phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, bracing myself for more messages from Brent, but instead I find a reminder text about my hair appointment in an hour. I’d completely forgotten about it. I debate canceling, but I can’t hide out here all day—I need some air. I give the door one last look, then head downstairs to get ready. The mystery will just have to wait.
I stop, realizing something for the first time. A hot, successful guy like Cam would definitely have his pick of the ladies, but there’s no hint of a girlfriend or woman in the apartment. When I poke through the bedroom drawers, I find condoms but nothing that looks like it belongs to a woman. If he does have a girlfriend, she’s definitely not allowed to leave her stuff here. There’s not even a second toothbrush or extra razor in the shower.
I’ve almost finished my tour of the apartment when a staircase in the hall grabs my attention. I didn’t realize there was another floor. I climb up to the top, but the door doesn’t open when I try it. Locked. Right away, I feel a shiver of anticipation. What kind of secrets does Cameron McCullough keep under lock and key? I’m dying to find out.
My phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, bracing myself for more messages from Brent, but instead I find a reminder text about my hair appointment in an hour. I’d completely forgotten about it. I debate canceling, but I can’t hide out here all day—I need some air. I give the door one last look, then head downstairs to get ready. The mystery will just have to wait.
