Asher smiled as he woke. He rolled onto his side and lifted himself onto his elbow, propping his head up on his hand. His other hand caressed Ellie’s smooth hip beneath the blanket.

“You awake?”

“No,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper under the quilt on the bed in their room at The Notch B&B. The place was tucked deep into the trees of northern New Hampshire’s thousands of square miles of thick forest, hidden away from the entire world.

He glanced around the room, decorated, according to Ellie, in what she termed pre-revolutionary style. Which he supposed to make sense, based on the plank walls, the all-wood furniture impressively fashioned from pine and birch; trunks, interwoven branches and twigs, right down to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Small quilts and old-fashioned daguerreotypes hung on the walls.

In the dull glow of the morning sun, which was softening harsh edges and chasing shadows away, birds twittered outside. Other than that, silence. It was beautiful out here. After the events he and Ellie had been through, Jackson suggested that he take some time off to recuperate. And, since Ellie had agreed to come work for Jackson, she could keep him company, if she so desired.

She desired.

After spending another day at the hospital in Keene, where Asher’s none-too-happy surgeon inspected his wound to make sure he hadn’t damaged it, and Ellie stayed overnight for observation and hydration. He’d come up with an idea and, not surprisingly, Jackson had agreed.

He wanted to spend more time with Ellie, not as her so-called bodyguard, not running from danger. Their bonding had been more than just adrenaline-based. He knew it, and he was pretty sure Ellie did, too. She was in full agreement with his proposed experiment, as he called it. Secretly, he just wasn’t ready to be apart from her. Asher doubted he would ever be.

Plus, Ellie wasn’t sure she wanted to return to her Boston apartment, no longer as focused on her computers as she was on discovering whatever had bloomed between them while on the run. So, together, they’d decided to stay in New Hampshire for a vacation of sorts, a well-deserved vacation. They’d done some camping and had decided to stay the night at this cute little bed and breakfast just outside Franconia Notch State Park in northern New Hampshire. This late in the season, they’d been the only guests for the weekend. Today, they’d set out on a hike along a section of the Appalachian Trail.

She rolled over, the warmth of her naked body beneath the sheets reaching for him, warming his body from head to toe.

“Ready to go see the old man of the mountain today?”

“Who?” she squinted up at him. “What old man?”

“It’s a landmark. The Old Man of the Mountain. It’s on a rock face, but it collapsed years ago. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

She frowned and looked up at him again, eyebrows raised in confusion. “So, the old man’s face fell off?” He nodded. “And why are we going to see it . . . if nothing is there?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Because we can? It’s a beautiful hike from here. Besides, it’s still an iconic place, and very scenic, even if the old guy’s face is gone.” Memories flashed through his brain. His childhood. “I remember seeing pictures of it, from family friends. I remember staring at the photos of the side of the mountain, wondering what the hell they were talking about. And then I saw it, a cranky old face, a Roman nose, a strong chin, and realized that I saw more than just a bunch of granite rocks. I felt so thrilled, full of awe and wonder . . .”

“Kinda like standing on the U.S.S. Constitution in Boston Harbor . . .”

“Yeah . . . history. Anyway, after a collapse, and being such a great part of the identity of the state, someone came up with a unique idea. Not to restore the profile on the mountain, which was impossible, but to create a memorial down below. They put some kind of profile rods down at the base of the mountain from a viewing point. From what I’ve heard, if you step in certain places in front of those profile rods, you can look up . . . the top of the rods have outlines of what the face used to look like from different perspectives . . . .” He offered a half-smile. “Anyway, I guess it’s better than nothing, and it does keep the memory alive.”

She twirled her finger around his nipple and looked up at him again, her breath warm on his chest. “So you just want to see where it used to be, is that it?”

Her grin was infectious, and warmth flushed his cheeks. He knew that it was more than memories of the profile of the old man on the rock face that he saw up there. It was the memories of growing up, being surrounded by a loving family, laughter . . . and he wanted to recapture that again. With Ellie. “I know it sounds silly, but since we’re here, we might as well see it, right?”

She nodded. “I may be a novice at hiking, and my legs are sore, but I’ll tell you, Asher, I’m enjoying this . . . spending time with you, not worrying about running from somebody.” She slid her warm palm down his chest, resting it right above his heart.

He smiled. “What was this about feeling sore?”

Her grin widened. “My calves, my hamstrings, even my back feels sore from all this hiking and fishing and outdoor stuff that you’ve been making me do the past few days.”

“Hmmm,” he mused. “I wonder what I could do about that?”

She slid her hand lower and lower . . . he sucked in a breath and chuckled to himself. “Don’t you think you should conserve your strength for the hike today?”

“You let me worry about that,” she murmured.

She shifted position, moving her hand. He almost groaned in disappointment until he felt her fingers gently brush against his jaw line. Her fingers gently traced down his neck to the base of his shoulder. His dick came to life, desire running through his veins. The air felt cool against his skin but inside, he burned with desire.

They lay side by side, her fingers touching his body softly. He rolled onto his back and lay still, allowing her to take the lead. The only things that moved were his lengthening cock and his chest as he tried to calm his breathing. She was exploring, her fingertips barely skimming the surface of his skin, light as butterfly wings . . . then she lifted her head, close to his, her breath warm against his cheek. Her lips, so soft as they left little kisses, their warmth lingering even after she moved on. His dick hardened, making a tent out of the sheet and quilt covering him. He wanted to roll on top of her, to take her, to press his lips against hers and thrust his tongue between them, but he held himself still.

A surge of desire stronger than he’d ever felt before swept through him. He wanted to make love to this woman. Not just sex. Not just fucking. He wanted to make love to her.

Despite his efforts at silent self-control, a groan escaped his throat. She placed her lips on his, and it was over after that. To hell with self-control. The moment their lips met, heat exploded in his body. Desire and passion . . . not just the so-called survivor sex, not just the desire to cling to another human being after a traumatic experience. No, this was something else. This was a yearning to meld, to blend, to disappear into her, to become a part of her.

He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but tomorrow was forgotten. He’d live in the moment, surrender for the moment, feel in the moment. They would take what each offered, and tomorrow would come soon enough. He wanted to give her everything she desired. To provide comfort, peace, support. Whatever she needed, he would give. It was a chance to reaffirm their survival, to feel safe, and even more importantly, alive.

Ellie slid her hand back under the covers and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, stroking him leisurely. He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to punch his hips forward and instead just enjoyed the feel of her hand on his cock, slowly and sensuously sliding along its length. Her thumb twirled over the top of his head, and Asher nearly exploded, but kept himself still, watching her through half-closed eyes. He forced himself to lie back, to allow her to set the pace.

She threw the covers off as he lay on his back and she on her side, one hand still stroking his cock, stirring sensations that warmed every cell in his body. Several moments later, she grew bolder, lifted herself over him, and kissed him, her breasts brushing against his chest. Her lips caressed his just before her tongue dipped inside. Her tongue teased his, playing tag while she gently sucked on his lower lip.

Ellie lay mostly on top of him now, her nipples pebble-hard as they pressed against his chest.

With extreme will-power, Asher lifted his hands and folded them beneath his head, giving her access to all of him. She lay on top of him, the length of her hot, warm skin pressed up against the length of his. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her, to flip her onto her side of the bed, spread her legs wide, and dive in.

Her hands explored his body, though she should have every inch of it memorized by now. His erection throbbed, and his balls grew heavy and firm.

“Asher . . . touch me . . .”

He did, his hands reaching for her shoulders, then sweeping down to cup her delicious breasts, thumbs skimming her nipples. She groaned and then straddled him, her wet pussy pressed against his lower abdomen as she leaned forward, offering him her breasts. He lifted his head and pulled one of those nipples into his mouth, suckling gently while his hands stroked along her back, down along her waist, stroking the soft flare of hips and down her thighs.

Ellie ground against him, and her wet slickness made him nearly burst. She shifted her body again and slid downward. And she gave as good as she got. She nestled between his knees, pressing them wider as her mouth found his nipples, first one, then the other. Moments later, she slid lower, her breasts now jiggling against his belly. He continued to gently tug, stroke, and tweak those nipples until she slid lower still.

Hot liquid oozed from the head of his dick, and his focus shifted to merely controlling himself. He wanted to come when he was deep inside her, but God, the vision before him had him hard as a rock.

Her tongue traced a path down the center of his chest, aiming for his belly, and then lower still. His cock hardened still more, blood pulsing, making it wiggle against his belly. That gifted tongue of hers drifted down further, and he spread his legs wider.

She slid further, her tongue nuzzling his hip, then slid ever closer to his groin, along the inside of his thigh. His balls tightened further, and he sucked in a breath and wrapped his fingers through her hair, holding back a groan of pleasure. Her mouth enveloped the head, and a hiss escaped his throat as her tongue swirled, prompting another surge of hot precum to leak from the tip. He held his breath and forced himself to hold still as she suckled, one hand wrapped around his shaft, the other cupping his balls, gently squeezing . . .

Asher panted for control, and she chuckled, taking him deeper into her mouth. Her lips tightened, and she sucked harder, and dammit if his hips didn’t begin to move of their own accord. He couldn’t hold on, couldn’t . . . at that moment, she released him and looked up. It didn’t take a word for him to grab her shoulders and compel her to lie beside him, her lips still glistening from his wetness. In a matter of seconds, he had switched position and hovered over her, smiling down at her flushed face, grinning at her dilated pupils.

His tongue traced the same path that she had taken on him, and though his cock pulsed with impatient desire, he held off as he took his turn suckling and worshiping her hard, round nipples. Low noises escaped her throat, and he reluctantly moved on, tracing a path down her stomach, her abdomen, then lower. She spread her legs, planting her feet, and offered herself to him.

Asher didn’t need any further invitation. He dipped his head and focused on her pussy, on lathing his tongue around her clit, sliding one finger into her wet pussy, deep, then deeper still. Her hips jerked upward. He wanted only to pleasure her, his tongue circling while his finger rhythmically dipped into her tight wetness, her hips lifting faster. He needed her closer still.

He quickly shifted, weight on his knees as he lifted her legs and wrapped them around his neck. Ellie reached her hand down and groped, then latched onto his dick like her life depended on it, an impressive feat considering the new position. A single stroke on his cock and Asher was done. Her legs still resting on his shoulders, he moved fast, and in one long thrust, pushed deep inside. Ellie gasped as her pussy throbbed around him and the sensation nearly had Asher coming in seconds. He grit his teeth and withdrew, then thrust deeply again. Then again. As his strokes lengthened, she writhed with pleasure beneath him, crying out his name.

He knew the moment she reached the peak, pulsing around him and drawing out his own orgasm. He thrust once more inside her and held himself there, as deep as he could go, as he groaned his release.

Sometime after, when the world returned, he collapsed on the bed next to her, arms wrapped around each other, breathing hard, exhausted, covered in a sheen of sweat. He reveled in the aftermath. Never had he felt this way. Never.

Ellie pressed her body closer, and he held her tight. He’d take his time, no rush. They had time. Plenty of time.

He pulled her closer, smiled, and rested his chin on the top of her head, her face tucked into his shoulder, her hand splayed against his chest.

Yes, this was right. This was home.

Thank you so much for reading Asher and Ellie’s story. to be the first to know when the next DARC Ops books is published.