I have yet to do that, even after we made it to the top of Elephant Back trail. The almost four-mile hike brought panoramic views of Yellowstone National Park. This place is surreal. No matter what area we visit or explore, the magnitude feels just as great. We could see the streets of downtown, the same strip Easton and I plan to visit on our night out of the forest.
We’re both in need of a change of scenery, and line dancing at High Noon Hideout sounds like the perfect place to do it.
We’re halfway through our trek back, and I’m doing everything I can to get a rise out of him. I’ve already stripped off my jacket and thermal, leaving me in nothing but a long-sleeve zip-up crop top. Despite the cold temperatures, my heart rate is through the roof, along with my body heat.
Maybe it’s the inclined hiking trail. Or maybe it’s the proximity of Easton with the memory of his mouth on my pussy playing in my mind on a loop.
He’s impossible to shake. I feel him everywhere.
He’s steps behind me, yet not close enough.
“I’m thirsty,” I mumble breathlessly, stopping on the side of the trail to take a break. In spite of being on a cliff, we stopped in the middle of the deepest parts of the trail. Pine and fir trees surround us, their height taller than the eye can see. It’s quite eerie out here. Still and quiet, save for the sounds of animals scurrying around us.
Perfect for what we’re about to do.
Or should I say, whatI’mabout to do to Easton.
“You good on water?” he asks, stopping beside me and taking it into his own hands to check for himself. “Half full.” He inspects my Camelback before ensuring my drinking tube is connected and lifting it from my shoulder to drink. “Let me know if you run out, and you can have mine.”
Always thinking of me.
Before his hand can pull away, he fidgets with the straps of my backpack, situating the fabric to lie flat and comfortably. “Comfortable?” The small acts of kindness he offers should send me spiraling, but they only make me feel more safe.
I can tell Easton isn’t a big gifts kind of guy.
Small things bring value to him, and he demonstrates the same with the people he cares about. Lucky for me, I get to pretend I’m becoming one of those people.
“Mhm.” Before his hand can slip away, I reach mine back to hold onto his. “Easton.”
One word.That’s all I can manage as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest and my body helplessly craves him close.
“Fuck.” I feel his exhale underneath my skin, penetrating through my veins like an unfailing addiction. A dopamine high.
His head falls forward, resting against the center of my back. “You good?” he whispers, voice wavering.
I shake my head because I’m not. I need him.
Easton doesn’t ask questions, just reads my body like a compass would its home. In a matter of seconds, I’m spun around with my back against the nearest pine tree, and Easton’s thick fingers tangled at the roots of my hair.
He doesn’t kiss me. Not yet. Our foreheads kiss while we find a simultaneous connection, and the gravity of what’s happening between us begins to settle.
For Easton, this change is monumental after years of feeling alone with his brother’s woman.
For me, it feels deeper than I care to admit. He makes me feel like my life holds value. Maybe it’s because I know more about Easton than I’ve ever known about other men I’ve slept with.
But we’ve both agreed that this—whateverthisis—needs to be explored.
“Baby.” No one’s ever called me that. I’m not sure I’ve mattered enough for it. So, when the softest whimper leaves my lips, Easton crashes his to mine like a lifeline in fight or flight mode. There’s no other way out but to be fused with him.
Our tongues battle for dominance while pulling away to let the other lead the kiss. There’s a push and pull dynamic that feels like a healthy level of respect mixed with intense longing.
“Fuck, Collie. I crave you,” he groans, pulling back to gaze into my eyes. A fog of lust shadows my vision, butnothing could ever obscure the view of Easton’s golden-brown irises looking at me with an intense passion.
It’s an addictive feeling to be the center of someone’s fixation—in more ways than one.
“I need you, Easton. Need you so bad.”
“You have me. I’m yours. Whatever you want. Take it, baby.”
