Page 57 of Made to Be

I HAD A HABIT of falling too hard and too fast and always managed to be shocked when my heart wound up battered and bruised in the end.

But something told me it wouldn’t be like that this time. It wouldn’t be like that with Cam.

I knew immediately as I watched him gazing thoughtfully at my collection of sex toys lined up neatly across my bed. He would rub his chin deep in concentration before reaching out, changing the order, placing his hands on his hips, then repeating the process. Over and over and over.

It was the absolute fucking cutest.

Had I expected Cam to get drunk off of only two glasses of wine while we carved our pumpkins? Absolutely not. Did I completely adore it? Well, I wasn’t made of stone. It was the most delightful fucking thing I had ever been blessed to witness.

Had I also expected him to accept my drunken challenge that he couldn’t correctly place all of my dildos in order from least favorite to most cherished?

Yes, I had. Which was why I had suggested it.

How could he turn it down when I had promised he could get me to do one thing he wanted, anything at all, if he won?

It was a dangerous gamble, but there was no way he would get it. One of these was not like the others. It had a secret. And because it looked plain and unassuming, I just knew Cam wouldn’t figure it out.

And that would mean I would get him to do whateverIwanted.

After we’d fled from the cemetery guard like a couple of errant teenagers sneaking around where they shouldn’t be, we'd struggled through the corn maze for at least another half an hour before making our way out and back to the deserted pumpkin festival and back home. Despite the late hour, we had broken out a bottle of wine and carved our pumpkins in the middle of my kitchen floor. We’d then salted and baked the seeds in the oven. Something that Cam had never done but was curious to try.

I know, I know, maybe knives and wine weren’t a good combination. But we both made it through unscathed. Our pumpkins however... Let’s just say they were the ugliest little Jack-O-Lanterns I had ever seen, and I loved them. They were proudly being displayed on my front porch.

Jinx had even joined in on the fun, diving in and nibbling at the pumpkin guts until he was stuffed full. His fuzzy little head ended up covered in stringy orangebits and we’d left him hanging upside-down in my spell room to sleep off his food coma.

When it had seemed like the night was over and we would be getting ready for bed, that was when Cam asked about my... collection. It seemed what Alice had said had left him curious, and he’d asked at the first opportunity.

And, under the influence of liquid courage, it had taken me a good ten minutes to round up every single dildo that I had stashed around my house in my buzzed haze. Cam had helped in the weirdest drunken Easter egg hunt of my life.

Every time we’d found one, we’d call out things like, “Got another!” or “Why would it be here?” and “This one’s a pretty color!”

I had... many. Nineteen, to be precise. I needed to get another just to make it an even number.

But my collection didn’t bother Cam in the slightest. Thus, our drunken bet. Now, I wasn’t heartless; correctly arranging nineteen dildos was, I could admit, a tall order. I had given himsomeleeway. That was, Cam would win the bet if he got at least ten of them correct.Andhe had to get my favorite one right as well.

He was slowly getting there, with seven currently in the right spots.

When he swapped out the blue anal beads with an equally as bumpy dildo of sparkling black for the fifth spot, I clapped.

“Good job!” I was full-on giggling now. “That’s eight right so far!”

Cam smirked. “You seem far too happy for someone about to lose our bet.”

He then proceeded to shuffle another two toys around making it nine.

“Look at you go!” I took a long sip directly from the bottle of wine. “One more! You still don’t have the first one right, though,” I sing-songed.

The toy that took the number one spot, the echelon of all of my dildos, was currently in last place. It wasn’t obnoxiously big like some of the others, nor was it flashy or textured. It was a plain, unassuming purple with a small handle at the end that made it easy to grip onto. Its end curved ever so slightly upward and, when it was turned on to that one specific vibration setting that I loved, that deliciously angled tip would peg my prostate with perfect precision.

It could make me cum untouched in less than thirty seconds. Every single time. I’d call it “ol’ reliable” if that name wasn’t a complete turn-off.

Cam swapped two more, but it didn’t change how many he currently had correct. At my quiet snickering, Cam adorably grumbled,

“Can’t I have a hint please?”

I snorted, “A hint? Now, how is that fair for me? I’ve already worked the bet to your advantage.”

From where I was sitting with my legs crossed on my bed, Cam turned his gaze upward, giving me those damn big eyes.