“It is a bacon-wrapped hot dog on a bolillo-style bun, loaded with pinto beans, onions, tomatoes, mayo, mustard, and jalapeño sauce. It’s messy as fuck, but really good.”
“Well, you haven’t led me wrong yet,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get messy hot dogs for dinner.”
And damn if it wasn’t the best meal I’d had in my life. With some of the best company.
This road trip was shaking up everything I thought I knew about my likes, my wants, and what I enjoyed.
And that—well, that was dangerous.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Raff
On the third day, we trekked around Big Bend in West Texas. Then we ate enough tacos to make it impossible to move for nearly an hour before heading to another luxury resort, where we spent the late afternoon guilt-swimming to work off the tacos. Only to decide to go out for more of them for dinner.
“You again?” she teased, answering the door in her robe and a silk bonnet, her skin still dewy from the shower.
And I felt a sinking sensation at the idea of missing out on hearing her in there, her hand between her thighs, working herself until she came hard and long like she had the night before.
I hadn’t meant to overhear that, of course.
But, fuck, I didn’t regret it either.
“What did you bring now?” she asked, eyeing the bags in my hand.
I stepped inside her suite and made my way toward the desk.
“We’re having a craft night.”
“We’re what now?”
“Well, I thought it would be weird to buy Barbies and play pretend at our ages. So, a craft night it is. And we are going tofinishthem.”
Her smile was playful even as she crossed her arms. “What kind of crafts? I don’t have time to learn knitting tonight.”
“That would be a pretty useless hobby since we live in a hot climate,” I said, shrugging. “My first thought was clay. We could make and paint magnets or some shit. But you just got your nails done. Don’t want all that gunk under them. So… we’re making bracelets.”
“Seriously? You want to make jewelry?”
“Why not? Fair warning, I’m gonna wipe the floor with you on this,” I told her as I laid out all the different beads.
“Why’s that?”
“A couple of the club kids love making jewelry. I have a necklace made entirely of little rubber ducky beads and lime beads.”
“That’s sweet. Okay. We can try. Give me one second to get dressed.”
“That is entirely unnecessary,” I told her, getting that little laugh out of her as she moved into the bathroom.
She came back in a pajama set that might have been more distracting than knowing she was naked under the robe.
I didn’t know what the hell kind of material was buttery soft-looking like that, but the shorts were, well, short, and the tank top skimmed over her breasts. The big problem was the air was set to arctic, and her nipples had quickly gotten that memo.
My cock was not unaffected.
Especially as she leaned forward to reach for one of the paint plates I bought to separate beads into, and her tank dipped a bit in the front.
I didn’t know if I made a noise or what, but her gaze cut to mine, putting the pieces together, and in a blink, her lips parted, her lids went heavy, and her breath caught.
