“Really?”
She nods, hooking one leg over the other, like she’s distinctly aware of just what kind of statement she has made.
I shake my head slowly, linking my fingers on top of the water tank. “That’s a damn shame, you know.”
“Why?” she replies, a slight giggle bubbling up from inside her, like the excitement just has to find somewhere to go.
I glance toward the cabin. All it would take is for one of the guys to stick their head out, and they would catch me in the act, catch me chatting her up like we’ve gone back in time to the night it all happened, when the stakes weren’t as high and our lives not as complicated.
“For a girl like you to go without that kind of pleasure in so long?” I murmur, deciding to risk it, inching a little closer.
She doesn’t pull back. In fact, her legs untangle as I draw closer, almost on instinct, like there’s a part of her inviting me in. “Oh, yeah?” she replies, teeth resting on her bottom lip with a delicious anticipation.
“Oh, yeah,” I reply, and I move a little, positioning myself between her legs, hands sliding up her thighs. I can almost smell the sweetness of her skin from here, and something is stirring within me at the thought of tasting her again. I know it’s dangerous, letting myself get drawn in like this when I know any of the guys could walk out of the cabin at any instant and catch us, but when she’s looking at me the way she is right now, it’s hard to give a goddamn about any of it.
I reach up slowly, popping open the button of her shorts, giving her ample time to rethink the matter if she’s not sure she wants to go through with this. But she doesn’t pull back, not for an instant, instead squirming herself to the edge of the truck’s bed,reaching for me and running her fingers through my hair. Her touch sends a shiver running down my spine, an overheated electricity that I hardly realized I’d been missing until that moment.
“Seems like someone should do something about it.” I lift her hips slightly, wriggling her out of her shorts and the simple black cotton panties below. I catch sight of her pussy for the first time in years, there in the dappled sunlight—it looks gorgeous, the most perfectly ripe peach I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life, already slick with her juices.
“And who might that be, huh?” she breathes, her voice catching a little at the back of her throat as she waits for me to give her what she craves so badly.
And I know that no answer I could give her comes close to what I could do to her with my mouth. So I lean in, taking my sweet time, and carve a line between the folds of her pussy and all the way to her clit.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, any pretense of being in control vanishing the instant she feels my tongue against her. Her hips rise as though on instinct, guiding my mouth hard against her clit, and I swirl my tongue around it a few times to coax it out from beneath its hood. The warmth and wetness of her spreads through my senses, the delicious muskiness almost more than I can take. I slip my hands beneath her thighs, spreading them a little further apart, and seal my lips around her clit, letting her push back against me as her body responds to the attention I’m lavishing her with.
I can hear the wind rustling through the trees, the sound of birds calling back and forth above us, but it feels like we’re the onlytwo people on planet earth right now, the only two people who can come close to mattering.
My fingertips sink into her skin, drawing her against me, craving more, my tongue flickering against her clit, just lightly, coaxing her nearer and nearer to the edge. I can already feel her wetness smeared across my face, the taste of her written on every inch of my tongue, and I want more. I want enough to make up for the years we’ve spent apart, enough to make good on all the time that she’s gone without this kind of attention.
Her other hand fists in my hair now, dragging my face even closer to her, my tongue lodged between her folds as I stroke her clit over and over again. I slip one hand up underneath her shirt, pinching her nipple lightly as I continue to lap at her, and she moans helplessly as she grinds herself into me, the insides of her thighs twitching at either side of my head.
Those sounds she’s making, I recognize them from that night. I have played them over and over again in my memory, enough that they’re familiar, enough that I can read into them with the accuracy of someone divining tea leaves.
I swirl my tongue around her, listening to the sounds she makes, using each one to guide me to where I need to go. And sure enough, it doesn’t take long till her hips press against my face and she lets out a sound that’s barely hidden by the wind and birds around us.
Back in the house, I wonder if any of them have caught on to what’s happening up here, but as I feel the gush of wetness over my face, I know I don’t give a damn. No, the only thing that matters to me is reminding myself just how much it turns me on to get her off, my cock already leaking in my pants.
When she pushes my head away, clearly unable to take any more, she reaches down and pulls me toward her, kissing me hard, our tongues tangling as she tastes her own wetness marked on my lips. I can feel her panting into my mouth, hands scrabbling to pull me upright, needing more, wanting more, aching for more than she’s ever had from me before?—
But both of us freeze when we hear a voice calling out, cutting through the passionate hunger and dragging us, however reluctantly, back to the real world. She grins against my mouth, clearly irritated that we’ve been interrupted, but practically promising with her reaction that she’ll have more for me as soon as she can.
“Hey, Callum!” Dylan’s voice fills the air. “Need you inside, man, where are you?”
“Right here,” I call back, reluctantly extricating myself from Angelie’s grip as she hurriedly pulls up her panties and shorts to disguise the truth of what we’ve been getting up to out here. Dylan rounds the corner a moment later and spots us—and for a second, I could have sworn that he could tell exactly what was going on here—glancing between us with his brow slightly furrowed as though he’s just starting to string all the pieces together.
“You alright?” he asks, and Angelie hops down from the bed of a truck with a nod before I can say a word.
“Just fine,” she replies brightly. “I was giving Callum a hand with the water tank, that’s all…”
Dylan gives me a look, one that is intended to remind me that he knows as well as I do that it’s anything but a two-person job. And that it’s as clear as day that I only kept her out here becauseI wanted her to myself. But for once, my twin thinks better of making a comment about the matter, and I’m grateful that he seems able to keep his mouth shut for a change.
Even if I wish my mouth were somewhere else entirely as I follow him back inside the house and pray that he doesn’t notice the burning heat pulsing between Angelie and me.
12
ANGELIE
I stir my coffee,watching the milk swim around in the cup and trying my best not to let my mind wander anywhere else.As though I have a hope in hell of that, given what’s been going on the last few days…
