"Anytime." I run my hand down her back, tracing the curve of her spine through the hoodie. "Literally anytime. Just say the word."
We stay like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other in the back seat of my truck, windows fogged, the world outside forgotten. Her scent surrounds me, mixing with mine, claiming this space as ours.
Eventually she sighs and shifts. "We should probably head back before someone sends a search party."
"Probably." I don't move.
Neither does she.
"Five more minutes?" she asks.
"Five more minutes," I agree.
Outside, the sun finishes its descent behind the mountains. The valley lights twinkle below us like stars brought to earth. The air in the truck is thick with our combined scents, with satisfied want and the promise of more to come.
Three days. Maybe less.
Her heat is coming, and we just crossed a line we can't uncross, and I'm lying in the back of my truck with her warmweight pressing me into the seat and her scent soaking into my skin.
Best Tuesday of my entire life.
23
JESSICA
The truck is a jacuzzi without the water. Windows fogged solid, air thick and heavy with our combined breathing. I don't know how long I've been sprawled across Carlos's chest, feeling his heart gradually slow from frantic to almost normal. My lips are swollen. I'm breathless and overheated and thirsty, not for water but for more of him, already thinking about doing it again.
I just went down on Carlos Negrorio in the back of his truck at the overlook.
The same overlook where we used to sneak off to during high school. The same overlook where half of Largo Waters lost their virginity. The same overlook that is apparently still a popular make out spot based on the headlights I can see approaching through the fogged back window.
Oh god.
"Carlos." I push myself up onto my elbows, which puts my face approximately three inches from his. "There's a car coming."
"Mmm." His eyes are still closed, one arm thrown over his face, the picture of post-orgasm bliss. "So?"
"So we're half naked in the back of your truck."
"Three quarters naked." He cracks one eye open and grins. "You're the one who's half naked. I'm just missing my shirt."
"Carlos." I smack his chest. "I'm serious. Someone's going to see us."
"Then they'll get a good show."
The headlights get closer. Bright enough now that I can make out the shape of a sedan pulling into the clearing about twenty feet away from us.
I scramble for my clothes. My shirt is somewhere near Carlos's feet. My bra has vanished into the blanket dimension. The hoodie I was wearing is bunched under my hip, and I yank it on without bothering to find anything to wear underneath.
"Jess." Carlos sits up, completely unhurried, and reaches for his own shirt. "Relax. The windows are fogged. They can't see anything."
"They can see shapes. They can see movement. They can probably guess what we were doing based on the fact that your truck is rocking like a boat in a storm."
"The truck is not rocking."
I shift my weight to prove a point, and the whole vehicle sways.
"Okay," he concedes. "Maybe a little rocking."
