“Some are not in this moment to understand the differences. Only you and I.”
“Only us.” He took a deep breath. “I’m only this way with you, Annie.”
“Does this mean I am your first?” I smiled, making a joke, although his reputation was nothing I preferred to poke fun at. If anything, it was something I was extremely jealous of. All the women…
“In all the ways that fucking count.”
I tucked myself deeper against his chest, allowing the moment to pull me in and root me there. I should not have been giving in to him as much as I was. I knew this could end badly, but it did not feel like a choice to me. It felt natural, yet at the same time, unreal.
I was enjoying cotton candy from the rodeo while also dancing on clouds. I could not let him, or this moment, go. I was going to squeeze out every second of it. I felt him grin when I sniffed at his chest, breathing him in.
He needed no instruction from me on how to get to the hot spring further into the property. I did not travel alone there because of the wildlife. Bison. Bears. Mountain lions. Coyotes. Moose. Wolves. Rattlesnakes. Nothing I preferred to deal with on my own.
I was good with a gun, but I would rather defend myself against a man than a wild animal with it. This was their land, and I was just trespassing on it. I was thankful we made it to the hill without incident. It was tucked away in a secluded spot.
Mariano had my bag slung over one shoulder, and he adjusted it and me before he started the climb up.
From so many visitors climbing to get to the warm pool, rugged steps had been carved out. I wiggled in his arms, telling him I could walk it, but he refused to let me. He said he enjoyed carrying me. I settled, not worried about him hauling me up. He was strong and able. He did not even break a sweat by the time we reached the top, where he set me down on my feet.
I wasted no time removing the sweater, setting it on top of my bag. He removed his sweatpants, leaving his swim trunks on this time. He held my hand as I stepped directly into this warm abyss. I moaned a little at the feel of it, and he stilled, his muscles straining against his skin.
Something else strained against his pants. The hammer that had whacked me in the head.
I averted my eyes, swimming around nature’s warm tub. He stepped in, submerging himself up to mid chest, coming toward me.
It was the most natural thing. How he reached for me, and how I went into his arms. Only a couple of days before, I would have turned and left the creek.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and we stared at each other as the sun set and the stars came out above our heads. Even though the weather was warm, a light misting of steam rose around us.
“Will you sing me the song you sang at the auction?” I whispered.
He cleared his throat. Sang to me. His voice was low, raspy, and so real. And I almost moaned. I could orgasm just listening to him talk. Singing brought me to another level. I was that sensitive to him.
After the first song, he started to hum the song I had sang to him on the way to the auction, changing “baby” to “my Annie”. When he sang about living to love and dying to keep, he held me so tightly, I felt as if I could not breathe.
My breaths were escaping in cool pants, and he seemed to be basking in them, my heart pressed against his.
He swam us to the side of the spring, resting his back against the bank, while my back rested against him. I lifted each leg out of the water, watching while the clean water ran down them. Hetucked his face in the crook of my neck, and I sighed when his cool breath washed over my pulse.
I did not consciously register how it happened, but one moment he was skimming my skin with his warm, calloused fingertips, and the next, I was turned in his arms, my nipples pressed against his chest. My mouth was pressed against his, and I was making noises that rivaled the ones wild animals made in the woods at night.
The kiss from the auction seemed to pick up where it had left off.
Nothing had cooled.
If anything, it seemed as if there was a reserve of heat rushing through our veins.
His mouth was a magnet to mine; my mouth was the home to his. We were feeding each other all we had.
We could not stop.
Our tongues were rolling. Our hands exploring. When he traced the shape of my breast, his fingertip barely grazing my nipple, my heart felt like it had stopped and restarted in the span of a heartbeat. My breath shuddered out. I moaned. Ground myself against his knee, searching for friction.
My body went with what felt natural. What it needed to be satisfied. I had never felt something so delicious before. I had never tasted anything as wonderful as him.
He seemed to be starving. I was making noises in my throat that he seemed to devour. He was wild. Feral.
He stuck my chin up, his mouth finding the rapid pulse in my neck, and he growled over it. “Mine,” he rasped out.
