“A towel.”
“For dolls?” she says, holding up the tiny sponge-like wedge skeptically.
“It expands as it absorbs the water,” I explain, rubbing it along the water droplets against her skin until the towel starts to grow.
“Whoa!” she says, eyes alight. “It’s like those hand towels you could buy at the dollar store when we were kids.”
“Exactly. That’s where I got the idea from,” I say, helping her pull the fibers apart until it’s big enough to wrap around her. “It’s also microfiber, so it doesn’t mildew. And all you have to do is leave it out in the sun, and it’ll shrink back up.”
“And you developed this?”
“Yeah. I loved being in research and development. Figuring out new products that would make camping easier for our customers. It was like playing imagination every day.”
“And you got to keep all the prototypes?” she asks, digging through my bag.
“Perks of the job.”
Wiping herself off, she wraps the towel around herself before getting into the front seat.
“Of course, you opted for a vehicle with no doors or windows,” she says, maneuvering her towel so that she can unhook her bra.
“If I knew that there was a possibility that this would be happening,” I say, motioning towards her, “I would have asked for the full secret service package—tinted windows, soundproof glass, the works.”
“Don’t make me laugh. This is difficult enough as it is.”
Her body stretches across the passenger seat as she shimmies off her underwear, and I try to focus on anything other than how I want to pull her into my lap and have her right there. But with the ranger’s truck parked beside us, I know better.
“Can you hand me my clothes please,” she asks, with a coy smile.
Collecting the items from the trunk, I pass them to her, watching as she throws on her shirt over the towel, and then her shorts.
I follow suit, throwing my shorts on over my wet boxer briefs, settling into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition.
On the way back to the ranch my hand rests against the bare skin of her knee as I admire the lightness in her shoulders as she lets her arm dance along the wind. I’m already thinking about how it’ll feel to hold her hand down the street, walk her to her apartment, make her a grilled cheese in bed, please her every night until she makes that sound that won’t stop echoing in my ears.
The words stick at the back of my throat. TheI love youitching to break free like a butterfly from its chrysalis. The last time I said it, it was a reaction, an involuntary response. And now that I’m certain I actually feel it, I don’t know how I ever gave it away so freely.
“I think we’re going to miss the shuttle,” Mira says, pointing towards a black van parked in front of the main cabins, guests already climbing aboard.
“I’ll drive us there,” I assure her. Now that we’ve come this far, being separated from her is unfathomable. I want to soak up every minute together, savor every time she smiles at me.
After I park the car, we sneak into the room like teenagers who can’t get caught coming home past curfew. I shut the blinds and lock the door behind us before I pull her back into me. The fact that I can do this now, without hesitation, without worry, is invigorating. My lips move along her sun-coated skin, making their way up her collarbone towards her neck as she relaxes into me. Pushing back her hair, I move my hand against her stomach, and up her torso until my thumb falls below her chin, holding her in place. Her breath is heavy and I know she can feel how badly I want her by the way she moves her ass against my erection.
“We have to get ready,” she reasons, and yet doesn’t move from my grasp.
“You can take the first shower,” I offer.
“Or we could share?” she says, and I practically salivate at the suggestion. “Mitigate the cold water with a little body heat?”
“That would definitely make it more enjoyable,” I agree, moving my hands to her perfect ass, turning her around to face me. Thanks to our dip in the lake earlier, Mira’s dark hair is extra bouncy, an explosion of curls framing her pink cheeks. And I’m dying to know all the ways I can make her flush. “But first, we got to get you out of these clothes.”
The thin fabric of her activewear gives me a perfect view of her nipples as I move my mouth over one, biting hard enough that her breath catches. Glancing up at her, I watch as she lifts her arms for me, allowing me to guide the fabric up over her head. Her body is all curves and valleys, her skin velvety soft as I slide my palms up her sides and over her breasts, watching her body tremble in anticipation.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, tilting her mouth up to mine. Her lips part for me as I slide my tongue into her mouth, guiding her forward until her back meets the wall. She kisses me harder, rougher, messier, until my body buzzes from the pressure of her against me. In one movement, my hands reach underneath her ass, lifting her off the ground and onto the dresser, and she gives me another one of those giggles that make me weak.
“Let’s skip dinner,” she suggests, “say we came down with a bout of heat exhaustion.”
“I do think you’re feeling quite flushed,” I say, sliding my hand between her legs, rubbing the silky fabric of her shorts. The warmth of her pools against my fingers, and when I remember that her panties are in the backseat of my Jeep, I press harder.
