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“Do you mind?” I say, fingers tracing the tie between her breasts.

She glances around. “If you’re quick, before anyone comes back.”

“I think we’re good. It’s getting late.”

I pull the tie and ease the left cup of her bikini back. Her breast is beautiful in the dappled sunlight, sand like glitter over her tanned skin. Gently, I touch her nipple, and it hardens. She makes a little sound in her throat, a hum, and her hips lift just a hint. Bending in, I flick it with my tongue. Her lashes flutter.

“God, you are bad,” she breathes.

“I think I’m pretty good. At this, at least.”

Her mouth turns up in a brief smile. I peel aside the right cup, and her nipple hardens there as well. My dick is rock hard, but I’m more focused on the feeling of awe in my chest. She’s breathtaking. She’s beautiful with her clothes on and off, but seeing her laid out on the sand, nipples flushed pink, like some kind of goddess…

“If the campsite was empty, I’d eat your pussy right now,” I murmur, looking down at the faint seam visible through her bikini bottom.

She bites her lip hard. “I wish it was.”

“We should go make some dinner,” I say. “More time in the tent afterward.”

“Oh?”

I look around to make sure we’re alone before running my middle finger down her belly and tracing the edge of her swimsuit. Her pupils blow, chest heaving. With my palm pressed to her thigh, I slide my middle finger beneath the fabric and touch her clit. She inhales hard. Tracing the seam, I dip in and find the heat of her entrance. Then, I pull my hand back.

“You need to stop,” she whispers. “Someone is going to walk over that hill and see.”

I lick my fingers and get up, kneeling to tie her bikini top. That has her flushing hard. Gently, I lift her to her feet and brush all the sand off. She does the same for me, her fingers lingering on my lower stomach. I kiss her, tapping her chin.

“Alright, baby, let’s go make dinner so I can get what I really want later.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SABRINA

It’s bedtime. The sleeping bags smell very fresh-out-of-the-box, like plastic wrapping. They’re comfortable, though, with some kind of built-in foam that’s the closest a sleeping bag could get to a real bed. I appreciate that, because I don’t have much experience with camping other than on the ranch occasionally.

He’s out putting out the fire, and I roll onto my side, facing the far wall. He’s not even in the tent, and I’m practically vibrating with tension. His boots crunch on the platform, the truck door opens and slams, and then his footfalls come back. Zip—God, he’s in the tent, zipping it back up. His breathing, almost silent, has my spine tingling. Then, I hear his clothes come off, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t know why.

Rustling… He’s in the sleeping bag beside me.

I can’t take it anymore. I roll over to my back at the same moment as he leans over me. His hand slides beneath the sleeping bag, across my stomach, and grips my waist. Heat floods my body, pent up from the entire day with him, and my lips part as his mouth comes down on them. We both moan. His tongue curls against the tip of mine. Desire surges so hard in my hips, they rise, desperate for his touch.

He pulls back. “You taste so fucking good.”

“So do you,” I breathe.

His mouth dips to my collarbones, to the sensitive skin between them. I’m so tired from the day, but I don’t feel any of it now. His hand drags down and slips into my sleep shorts. No, I think I could stay up all night—if he can go that long.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” he rasps.

My thighs fall open. Overhead, there’s a faint sound like a rush, then gentle rain across the top of the tent. Neither of us bother with it.

He’s circling my clit with two fingers, slowly, then with rising intensity. Pleasure rises in a hot, driving itch that I couldn’t deny even if I wanted. He dips down, mouth brushing mine, but not giving me his tongue the way I need. It’s a soft curl of heat alongside the taste of him, mingled with the gentle pressure of his fingers.

“Oh God,” I gasp.

My body rises, spine curving.

“Let it out for me, baby.” His voice is a faint rumble, somewhere distantly below me. “That’s my girl. Come on my hand.”