“It’s incredible,” Parker says of the view from Atalaya Peak, looking out over Santa Fe.

Neither of us were too proud to carry our bikes a few times just to reach the top, but it is so worth the effort. This has to be the most difficult trail I’ve ridden to date. My legs are screaming at me, but when I see the joy on Parker’s face, I know I would do it again and again. We enjoy our snacks and water as we rest and take in the stunning view.

Parker wanted to visit his mom again this summer, especially to look in on her and how she’s doing with the at-home nurse. With my new boss being flexible as well as super sexy, kind, generous, and humble, we decided to make a vacation of it. We stopped first at Crested Butte, and spent several days enjoying the bike trails. From the jagged, snow-covered peaks to the fields of wildflowers, we spent every day exploring all the area had to offer.

Sante Fe was our next stop, and I’m enjoying it even more. Perhaps it’s the difference in culture more than the difference in nature. I may be biking and sweating for hours each day, but then we get to enjoy the art and the food ... Dear god, the food.

“Can we go back to the historic district for dinner?” I ask. “I want more of that green chile stew.”

Parker lifts his helmet from his head, leaving sweaty peaks pointing in all directions.

“How can you talk food at a time like this?”

“Because I just worked up one hell of an appetite.”

Although he’s right. If I tried to eat any of the spicy dishes from last night right now, it would be heave-city, all over Atalaya trail.

“Let’s get the selfies over with. I want to appreciate the downhill that I just climbed up.”

I smack Parker’s chest. “Please. Like you don’t love the pictures every bit as much as I do. But you might want to do something about the hair …”

Parker makes a triumphant sound and pulls a bandana out of his fanny pack. The fanny pack that I bought for him before we left on our vacation. He surprised me by actually wearing it. He slips the bandana over his head, covering the mess of hair. Although I’m sad that the adorableness of his crazy hair is gone, he does look damn good in a bandana.

“Stop eye-fucking me and get in the picture.”

“You know, I think it’s pretty quiet out here, if you want me to do more than eye-fuck,” I say, turning around as if to demonstrate that we are all alone out here.

“You are bound and determined to get us arrested for public indecency, aren’t you?”

“Interesting choice of words …”

I have no idea why I’m so horny. Actually, that’s not true. I did nothing but stare at Parker’s butt dimples flexing in hard work on the way up the trail, and I think they hypnotized me. I scour the area, and lo and behold, a nice flat rock behind a clump of, well, not trees exactly, but cover definitely.

I stretch out on the rock, legs spread while my elbows prop up my upper body. My hand drifts to the well-padded crotch of my bike shorts and starts to stroke.

“Mal,” Parker says with a warning in his voice. A deep voice that has gotten thick and husky. I’m so going to win this one.

“Just lay down, love, and I’ll take care of you. You won’t even have to do any of the work, if you’re too tired.” I unclip my fanny pack, but pull out a condom and travel-size bottle of lube before tossing it to the side.

The low rumble from Parker’s throat has my insides singing “We Are the Champions,” and within seconds he has me flipped over onto my belly on the rock.

“I think someone needs to be taught a lesson.” He reaches underneath me and pulls down my shorts. It’s not cold outside, but the sudden shock of air on my ass makes me shiver.

“Please,” I whimper, and he’s quick to give in to my begging. Or it could be that he’s nervous to get caught. Either way, it works in my favor as a slick finger pushes at my entrance.

“Ungh, seriously Parker, my ass is numb after all that riding. You don’t have to be so gentle.”

I hear the rip of the condom packet, and take those few seconds of freedom to adjust so that the sharp edges of the rock are nowhere near my cock. When the blunt edge of his dick prods at my hole, the short breather is over. Parker plows into me at a punishing pace. If it weren’t for the tender strokes of his palm along my spine, caressing my neck, I might think my exhibitionism pissed him off. But those gentle touches reassure me that he’s just as furiously into this as I am. And I’m not going to last long.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he moans as his balls swing into mine with each demanding thrust.

“Nngh.”

Thank god for gloves. They’re the only thing keeping me from scrubbing the rock clean with the front side of my body.

I feel Parker everywhere. My ass. My hips. The expanding euphoria in my chest. But the second I feel him on my cock, my world explodes and I see stars.

When my blood finally settles and I can think straight, in a manner of speaking only, I’m aware of Parker pulling my pants back up and gently tucking my dick back into place.

“Really, Mal? A condom and lube in your fanny pack?”

“I wanted to be prepared,” I mumble, still hugging the face of the rock.

“Ready for that selfie now?” Parker clasps my hands in his and pulls me to standing. His arm wraps around my front, and he kisses my cheek when he snaps the shot. All of Santa Fe is in the background, but all I can focus on is the blissed-out look still on my face.

“I think this is my favorite one yet,” Parker says proudly.

He settles his helmet back on top of his head, leaving the bandana in place, and sets off for the downhill ride of our lives.

“Wait for me, Dimples,” I call, trying not to wince as I sit back on my bike. I probably should have thought this one through a little more.

Parker stops and turns back to me. “I don’t have dimples.”

My shit-eating grin and eyebrow waggle turn his confused look into one of pure “Why do I put up with you again?”

“Because you love me,” I say in answer to his unspoken question, riding past him and blowing him a kiss. “And I love you.”

Santa Fe might not be the world, but I’ve got big plans for my love. And one day soon, I’m going to gift him with it all.