We’re soaked, I notice, vaguely, as I come back to reality. I slowly pull out. We groan and share a smile. I look down at my goose bump covered chest, her dark nipples highlighted by the see-through T-shirt, lower, to where I’m dripping from her. If I had a free hand, I’d reach down and push it back in, put my sticky fingers in her mouth, make her lick me off while I kiss her.
She looks soft and lost, her already plush lips red and swollen. All I can do is watch her. All I can do is hold on.
Twyla must see all of this on my face.
Slowly, her expression changes. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “What is it?”
And here’s where it gets hard. Harder. Impossible. The moment when telling the truth has the potential to hurt me the most and simultaneously give me what I want. I had no idea it would feel like this. None. Although, maybe that’s a lie, because you don’t avoid kissing your whole life out of fear that it’ll be good and quick and easy before moving on to something else. But, hell, who am I to hold back when this woman took the scary-ass step to follow me to camp?
“I’m scared,” I admit, out here being baptized by the rain and her lips. “I don’t know how to be with someone. I’ll fuck it up. For sure.”
She smiles. “Of course you will. We both will. But not like you did before, okay?”
“I’d rather die.”
“I know that now. I know you. I trust you.” Her nod is slow and thoughtful. “What if whatever we do, we do it together? We discuss and agree before scening or bringing someone else in?”
“I don’t need anyone else.”
“But at some point, you mightwantsomeone else.” Her eyes dance. “I saw the way you looked at Blade’s dick tonight.”
“He’s hot,” I say with a grin.
“Well, you two touching opened up a whole new world of fantasies for me.”
“Yeah?” Excitement rises, fresh and new from the ashes of the half-man I used to be.
“Definitely.”
Her hand plays with my soaking wet hair and cups my ear before she moves in. It takes me a second to realize she’s giving me her lips for a kiss.
I plant one on her—quick and casual, as if we do this every day.
She leans back with a happy sigh. “My parents mess up constantly, Zion. It’s what happens when you try hard at anything. You mess up, right? But then you apologize and you try again, harder. It’s work. Yeah?”
“I’m a hard worker,” I tell her, a grin springing up from out of nowhere.
“Oh, I know.” She nuzzles me and then pats my shoulder until I release her fully. Her feet slide to the ground.
I don’t move away, though. I love boxing her in. And then, because I’m allowed to, because it’s easy and feels right, I lean down and move in to kiss her and she tilts her head back, the way I’ve seen people do, and we kiss, the zing so bright it resonates in my spine, my eyeballs, the tip of my cock.
“You know what feels good?” she asks, that secret smirk twisting my insides up in the best way.
“What, baby?”
“Dinner. And sex in an actual bed. Oh!” Her expression goes bright, as if she’s just gotten an amazing idea. “And kissing.” Her lips pull at mine, releasing me with a wet sound. “Lots…” Another kiss. “And lots…” Another. “Of kissing. Just kissing and—”
I don’t let her finish the sentence. She’s already slung over my shoulder again and I’m stalking toward the big house, where my bed’s ready and waiting, the sheets messy from one too many tortured nights of thinking of her and wanting her and not getting thatkeepingher was what I’d wanted all along.
“Put me down!” she wails, giggling and slapping my thigh.
“You safe-wording?” I ask over my shoulder.
When she doesn’t make a peep, I laughingly smack her thick ass and grab it tight, then turn my head to kiss and bite it. “Mine.Mygorgeous ass.”
She uses her free hand to grab onto me, twists her body like she’s trying to get down, and makes a frustrated sound. I tighten my hold. “What’re you trying to do? Fall on your head?”
“I want to slap your butt, too!”
