“I’m talking dates, I’m talking physical contact… In fact, if I remember correctly, you already signed on for that.”
I grinned, feeling flushed. With my hands on his chest, I could feel his heartbeat, quick and strong beneath his ribs.
“Does what we’ve been doing these past two days count as a date?” I asked.
He nodded slowly.
“Because if that’s the case, I guess we should move on to the physical contact. That’s the next logical step in the relationship, no?”
“It certainly is,” he whispered.
“Good. Because there are some things you apparently don’t remember and I’d like to remind you of them.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve been sure since I was twelve years old. Every time I’ve ever been with anyone, I’ve thought of you. So yes, I’m sure.”
He dove in, his lips covered mine, his tongue intertwined with mine. He nibbled, groaned, grabbed my ass, and pulled me tight to him. I was touching him all over, unable, unwilling to suppress my desires. I wanted him to understand how much he mattered to me, how much I needed him.
Our bodies were so close, they could have been one as I felt under his T-shirt and touched his skin. He did the same, touching the lace of my bra. Our bodies were on fire. I was aching, each of his caresses a sweet torture. We were getting impatient, ready to see those corners of each other that were still hidden, when a gust of wind struck and we realized the weather was about to change.
“We should get back,” he said.
“Sure.”
But instead of that, he kissed me again. Again. Again. Only after that did he take my hand and guide me back. I could hardly see, but he seemed to know every inch of that terrain, and I followed him, unafraid of where I might step.
Soon we were in the clearing where the house and garden lay. The lights were off, and the only sign of life was the barking of the dogs. He grabbed our luggage from the car and started walking around the house.
“Aren’t we going to sleep inside?” I asked.
“I don’t know if you realize this, but there’s only one bedroom, where Grandpa and Elaine sleep. And the sofa isn’t exactly big.”
“We’re not going to sleep outside, are we? Because if that’s the case, I’ll pass. There must be spiders and ticks and all kinds of creepy-crawlies out here.”
Trey laughed. “We’re not sleeping outside. We’re sleeping over there.”
I squinted my eyes and saw a white outline against the underbrush, and as we approached, I could see a small white camper van. I stopped, flabbergasted.
“We’re sleeping in a camper?”
“It’s not just any camper.”
“Uh, it is, though.”
“Don’t worry, it’s quite comfortable—real bed and everything.” He mounted the few steps, opened the door, and put our things inside. “Come in. It’s quite spacious, you’ll see.”
“I need to go to the bathroom first.”
Trey sighed, but patiently, and walked me over to a little wooden shack under the trees. He pushed the door open and turned on the light inside.
“This one’s for us. It’s got electricity and running water, as you can see.”
“Hot water?” I asked, with strained hope. I was desperate for a shower.
“Yeah. The water heater’s in the back. I’ll turn it on.”
“Thank God,” I murmured. It’s not that I was a fancy-pants, but my contact with nature hadn’t gone much further than the parks in the various cities I’d lived in. “Why’s your grandfather have a bathroom out in the woods?”
