I clutch him tighter as we bounce over a small mound in the sand.
He revs the engine, and I close my eyes once more, just feeling him against me.
My body tilts backward, and I hold my breath as he guides us up a hill, the tires spinning beneath us, and then suddenly it stops.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask. Caleb peers back at me, his eyes twinkling. I must look like a mess, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He leans a little closer, our lips hovering over each other.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” he asks.
I can’t help but wet my dry lips. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”
“Yeah, you are,” he says softly. “Thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not,” I say, but it doesn’t ring true anymore. It seems he absolutelyismy type.
I want to lean in and kiss him, to brush my lips against his, but I don’t. I can’t.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, Sem shoots past us, his ATV launching off the ground, back wheels kicking into the air.
The carelessness they have for their own safety is astounding.
“He should wear a helmet,” I mutter, and Caleb laughs.
“Probably. Not wearing one explains a lot, actually,” Caleb says and then asks, “Wanna drive?”
“I think it’s best if you do this.”
“You sayin’ I’m better than you at something?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. His eyes flick to the movement, his pupils dilating.
This goes beyond playful touches or a bi-curious guy exploring his boundaries.
It’s there in his eyes when he looks at me…
“I never thought you were lacking,” I finally say.
He huffs and turns his gaze away, just for a moment, looking almost shy.
“Ready for more?” he asks suddenly, revving the engine.
I sigh, the moment lost, but still tuck myself against him, pulling his back against my chest.
And I endure it, the feel of him against me almost worth the way my brain clatters in my head. When he finally turns the ATV around, and we head back to his aunt and uncle’s, I sigh in relief. He must feel it on his neck because he slows down and shouts over the roar of the engine.
“Ten more minutes, babe. And then we’ll be home.”
The way he says that word. He really should stop calling me that. It’s doing things to my unruly heart.
When we arrive back at the house, he helps me off the ATV, my legs slightly unsteady from the constant vibrations. He guides me upstairs so I can change out of my dusty clothes. But all that happens is he stares at me, his hand on his crotch.
It’s so obvious what he wants. And I’m unable to refuse him.
“Hands on the wall,” I murmur, moving toward him.
When he doesn’t move fast enough, I spin him around and force him to face away from me. I told myself this needs to end, but one more time couldn’t hurt.
