Camille was soft. Logan can't felt but think that over and over as he holds himself above her, the moonlight creeping in his room and making her almost glow. She's mewling underneath him, making little sounds that make him a bit harder.
He loves Camille. He loves her over dramatic tendencies and confidence in how she looked. She knew she was hot. He loved her outrageous fashion statements and the way her lips are always soft and taste like apples.
He tries not to think about how James has all those things. That would screw everything up wouldn't it? He can pretend anyway, there was a difference, but only in looks.
Her hair was soft, like James's was, but a lot longer. He threads his hands into it when he kisses her hard enough to take her breath away- if only so she wouldn't talk and he could revel in the fantasy that she was James. She thrusts her hips up to meet his, and he lets his tongue explore her mouth, muffling the either ignored or unheard moan of "James!"
Her eyes are light hazel and he takes advantage of that. The fact that she thinks he's being romantic by looking into her eyes is a plus. He flips them both, letting Camille be on top of him. As soon as she's settled, her shirt is off, and she's using light touches along the waist band of his jeans. Then they're off. She strips his shirt off to, her finger tips tracing no sense patters along his chest.
He's thankful her nails are blunt and dude like. She's strong from stunting and he uses that to imagine his band mate instead. He imagines the darker boy tugging at his nipples, flicking his tongue into his navel.
She's got a light voice, which makes it easier to imagine a certain singer moaning above him. James was slim and strong, and she's strong for a girl.
He loves Camille.