She frowned. “What if I don’t taste good?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you will. You’ll taste exactly how you’re supposed to taste—like musk and heat and sex.”
She shivered, her nipples pebbling against her halter top.
“When you were used to the feel of my tongue, I would use it on your clit. First, I would stroke you and flick you until you started to moan. Then I would suck on your clit, draw all of you into my mouth, let my lips stroke yours. After that, I would slide my fingers inside you and thrust hard.”
Her hips moved in a circle, proof that he was turning her on. “Then what?”
“You would come. My lips would be covered with your wetness, and your taste and scent would be all over me. Then I would bury my cock inside you and make you scream.”
She circled her hips again, a look of pure sexual frustration on her pretty face. “That’s not fair. Now you’ve got me all hot.”
“How is that not fair?” He laughed. “Haven’t you heard? Turnabout is fair play. Maybe you need some time alone in your tent.”
She glared at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re a mean, hard man, do you know that?”
“I’m definitely hard, thanks to you.” He stood, helped her to her feet, adjusted himself—and saw her look. “I’ll wash the dishes while you think about what you want to climb today.”
“I want to climbyou.”
Satisfied that he’d won this round, he carried their sauce pot to the water spigot, filled it, then brought it back and set it on the camp stove to boil. Megs sat on a nearby log, looking at a topo map, her blond hair spilling around her bare shoulders.
It was only mid-August. How was he supposed to last until October 24?
Here he was in one of the most beautiful places on earth, being paid to do what he loved, and all he could think about was Megs. She filled his head during the day. She made his blood run hot. She hijacked his dreams at night.
God, he wanted her. He wanted her so bad it hurt.
Mitch poured the steaming water over the dishes and added a few drops of dish soap. Then he fished their sponge out from the bottom of the bin and washed the dishes.
He’d been planning. Of course, he had. He wanted to make sure their first time together was as perfect as it could be. It would be her birthday, too, so it needed to be extra special.
He’d bought a box of condoms from a pharmacy before coming to Yosemite. He’d also gotten her a few birthday presents—a new book of poetry, flowers, and a new internal frame pack from François’ company. But he hadn’t yet decided where they should stay that night.
He didn’t want her first time to be in a tent or the back of his van. That wasn’t classy or romantic. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if it was legal for unmarried couples to get a hotel room together in California. He knew it was illegal in some states. Hell, having sex outside of marriage was still illegal in some states.
It was 1974, but some people still lived in the Dark Ages.
He also worried about Megs. She’d been molested as a younger teen. He didn’t need a degree in psychology to know the experience might affect her more deeply than she realized. The last thing he wanted to do was dredge up bad memories for her.
He wanted her first time to be perfect.
Megs looked up from the map. “Why don’t we check out Middle Cathedral Rock? Gridwall and the guys put up a few first ascents there last year, but I’ll bet there are more. Let’s see what we can find.”
“Sounds good.” He finished the dishes, and they pulled their gear together and piled it in the back of his van.
Megs shoved her backpack inside. “Just so you know, I’m grumpy.”
“It’s called sexual frustration.” Mitch didn’t bother to hold back his grin. “Now you know how I feel.”
Her lips turned down in a perfect pout. “But you’ve already had sex.”
“Sure.” He shut the van’s doors and pressed his forehead to hers. “But I haven’t had sex withyou.”
Megs remembered that day.She had pushed him to the brink, tried to get him to change his mind. She’d known she was making life hard for him. But he was determined at age twenty-two not to be the dirty old man who led the teenage virgin astray.
At the time, it had irritated the hell out of her. But now, she respected him for it. If he’d done what she’d wanted him to do and had sex with her that first summer, she wasn’t sure their relationship would have lasted. By making her wait, it gave their friendship and mutual respect time to grow. It had also given her time to grow as a person. By the time they finallydidhave sex, the tension had been thick enough to cut with a knife.
