She made a small sound, and when I glanced down at her, I could see her smiling in the moonlight.
“I guess that makes me special,” she whispered.
Something in my chest pulled tight, and I kept my mouth shut because what I wanted to say wasyes, you are, you always have been, but that was a conversation for a different lifetime.
I looked ahead toward the bunkhouse at the far end of the yard. I’d sneak in and grab my blanket, then take her out into the woods.
But as we headed in that direction, I noticed Dylan’s cabin sat dark, every window black, and his truck was gone from the spot where he always parked it.
He was the camp foreman that Winslow Harrison had put in charge.
And as I looked at his dark cabin, I gave him a silent blessing.
Thank you, Dylan!
I’d completely forgotten he was out of town for the weekend.
Shelly asked, “What?” as I slowed to a stop.
I steered her around the corner of the cabin and whispered, “Stay here.”
Without waiting for her to respond, I inspected Dylan’s window, working the screen loose with practiced hands. Then I set it quietly against the cabin wall and pushed the window up. It slid without complaint.
Hoisting myself up and through, I dropped down onto the plank floor inside and made my way to the front door to let Shelly in.
She slipped through the door and looked around at the small, spare space.
Dylan kept a tidy cabin.
In the dim shadows, I could see a double bed shoved against one wall, the blanket tugged tight with military corners. A woodstove sat in the corner, already cleaned out and ready for the next season.
He had his own TV, a luxury for us bunkhouse guys who had to share one. And he had a mini-kitchenette.
Shelly turned in a slow circle, taking it in. “Are you supposed to be in here?”
“Yeah,” I winked at her. “But let’s leave the lights out, hon.”
Then I reached out, catching her hand, and tugged her toward the bed.
“Amos!” she whisper-hissed. “Are we going to get in trouble?” she asked as she landed on the mattress.
I came down over her a second later, and the moment my weight settled against her soft curves, every last shred of patience I’d been holding onto all night disappeared.
“The only trouble you’re going to find tonight is with me, Shelly,” I rumbled hungrily.
Then I kissed her deep and slow, one hand cupping the lush curve of her hip while I worked her shirt up and off. She hadthe most gorgeous body I’d ever touched, all soft weight and generous curves, her hips wide and round beneath my hands.
I pressed my lips to her throat, then her collarbone, and the swell of her breast, taking my time because I wanted her to feel every single second of this.
“Amos,” she breathed. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Neither could I.
I worked her skirt up around her waist and left it there because the view was too good to lose.
Her thick, gorgeous thighs spread for me, her pussy glistening and perfect.
She had a full mound of hair, and it made me feel feral inside. I dragged two fingers through her folds, and she arched up off the mattress with a sharp cry.
