Ben
Kylie slides into the passenger side of my sports car, looking as jumpy as a woman fearing she’s about to be kidnapped. Most of my dates start on a more positive note. “I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one. It’s different.”
“That does not fill me with confidence.”
“I’d think that a woman who could step into a boxing ring wouldn’t be afraid of a little outing with a sweet man like me.”
Her eyes narrow, but I can tell she’s intrigued. “I’m not afraid.”
“Good, because if you let yourself enjoy it, this will be fun.”
“Says every man always . . .”
I laugh and start the car. I like her snarky wit. “Are you?”
“What?”
“That tense in bed?” I know there’s a risk the question might offend her, but since I just pulled out of the driveway she’s trapped with me long enough that we can talk it through.
“It was a joke.” She folds her arms across her chest.
I pull out onto the main road. “Hey, not judging. Women are lucky. You have second thoughts, and you just say no. A man questions if he should actually sleep with his best friend’s ex and his limp dick says it for him.”
Her eyebrows arch. “Sounds like a problem.”
“Yeah, morality sucks.”
I glance at her in time to see her smile briefly. “I thought men could and would fuck anything and anyone.”
“Some men.” I wave at my cock. “We came to an agreement early to choose quality over quantity.”
“We?”
I shrug. I don’t know if women think of their pussies as creatures who have minds of their own. Men do for the simple reason we’ve been betrayed by that little bastard enough to not trust it. Hard-ons happen at enough ridiculous times that we can either hate our cocks for embarrassing us or befriend the fuckers, name them, and keep them contained.
I don’t tell women I have a name for my cock. There are certain things women don’t get because—they’re women.
Trust me, if they had dicks, they’d name them too.
I decide to change the topic.
“I’ll have you back in the office by lunch tomorrow.”
“Wait, where are we going? I want to be back at my place tonight.”
“You can be if you want to.”
“I hope work clothes are appropriate for this surprise destination because that’s all I have.”
“Penny packed you a bag.”
“She what?”
“She packed you a bag.” I repeat the words more slowly as if that’s what she required. I can’t help but grin at her growl.
“I already told you I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Sex. Sex. Sex. I have a mind too. You might try to pretend you’re interested in that as well.”
“You crack yourself up, don’t you?”
“Seriously.” I change my expression so she knows I mean it. “There is no pressure. I have something planned I think you’ll enjoy. Where it goes from there is up to you.” When she sucks in her bottom lip and her eyes dart away, my cock takes that as a yes and drains the blood from my brain. This is where the battle begins for a man. If allowed, that little bastard will reduce me to blubbering and begging. I imagine an error in a long chunk of code and all the ways it could elude me. Slowly, I regain control.
Take that, Mr. Closure.
I slept with a programmer once and tried to explain the name to her, but she confused the term with anonymous function which took all the humor out of the term. A named closure is not anonymous. I chose it to imply it works best in one environment. When a closure is exposed to too many variables, it can lead to messy garbage data. Any good coder would know that.
“I can’t believe Penny packed a bag for me. What sister does that?”
“She likes me.”
“She’s probably picturing us double dating with her and Dalton.”
“Would that be so bad?”
She still has those arms folded across her chest—about as tense as a person can get. I wonder if she’s like that for her pilot then regret letting my mind go there. I’m not a jealous man by nature, but the idea of Kylie with anyone else has me clenching my hands on the steering wheel.
“Penny and I have always been opposites. I want to have more common ground with her, but I don’t know if that’s possible.”
“Anything is possible. You look close whenever I see you together. Have you considered that you’re too hard on yourself? She loves you. You love her. With siblings that’s all that’s required.”
She sighs. “I wish I could see things the way you do. When I look at us all I see are the things that are still wrong.”
“I can understand that. My passion is hunting down errors and correcting them.”
“Is that why you’re with me? Do you see something wrong that needs to be corrected?”
This is when I like Kylie the most. She’s lowering her wall and letting me in. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“I’ve been called mean, inflexible, obsessed . . .”
I take one of her hands in mine and simply hold it. “That’s not the woman I see.”
She doesn’t pull away. “Well, you haven’t known me that long.”
“It’s not how Penny sees you, either.”
Her hand tightens on mine. “Ben, if I could, I would—”
“You can, Kylie. That’s what you don’t see yet. You can trust me. You can let me in, and I won’t disappoint you.”
We ride along in silence for several minutes, hands laced, with only the sounds of light jazz and our breathing.
“Why do you sound so sure?”
“I analyze things for a living, look at them from every angle.” I toss her a smile to lighten the mood. “I’m not all muscles and good looks. I’m also fucking brilliant.”
She does smile now. “So sweet—such a big ego.”
“Bigger is better.” I wink.
She chuckles. “Is that supposed to turn me on?”
I bring her hand to my thigh, placing it just below the pulsing edge of my rock-hard dick. “Is it working? Because you have some angles I’d like to analyze.”
She laughs, and I get that buzz that only comes from making her happy. “You’re too nice for me, Ben, but you’ve been warned.”
“You can keep pushing me away, Kylie. But I’m not going anywhere. Save your energy for something more fun.”
“Like this?” Her eyebrows raise high as she slides her hand ever so slightly farther up my thigh. I swallow hard and sweat begins to bead on my forehead. I want to swerve this car to the side of the road and take her right here. She might be game for it, but then what? I don’t want to be the next man she talks about, without bothering to mention his name. I want more of her than that.
I take her hand and lace my fingers with hers. Down, Mr. Closure—we’re in this for the long haul. “It’s a long drive. Do you have any questions you’re dying to ask me?”
“Not really.” She smiles when she says it. Oh, she’s bad. She knows what she’s doing.
I sigh. “That’s a shame. Some people would want to hear about my life, my career, how I see technology changing over the next ten years—but if you’d rather just listen to music.” I reach to turn up the radio.
She stops me by laying a hand over mine. “Okay. I’m curious.”
“My life. My career. My ambitions. I’m a fascinating man. Ask away.” I lace my fingers back through hers. Come on, Kylie. Meet me halfway.
She’s quiet for a moment then says, “I would like to know your story. How did you get your first break? How do you choose your projects?”
My heart swells with pride for her. Some people open up to complete strangers while in line at the supermarket. It’s easy, but not as meaningful as each step Kylie takes with me. “When I was little I used to take everything apart. Everything. I got in trouble a lot because I didn’t always know how to put things back together. I took a coding class in high school, and something clicked—I finally found something I could take apart and put back together without getting grounded. And it made sense. I could see the code executing in my mind when I ran a program, and if I couldn’t I wanted to.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I scored a full scholarship to MIT, and then the real fun began. Suddenly I was learning from people who knew as much if not more than I did. I liked being challenged. As a course project, I came up with a search algorithm my professor thought was marketable. I didn’t have the resources to take it from concept to market, but I patented the idea and found a buyer who could. The money was insane. The people I met were amazing. A whole new world opened for me, and I just kind of stepped into it. One project led to another. I was offered more jobs than any man deserves, but I like the freedom of choosing my own path.”
“Do you ever see your work out there, making billions for someone else and wonder if you should have kept it for yourself?”
“Never.” I meet her eyes briefly. “I have more money than I know what to do with. How about you? You’re highly successful. How much more do you need?”
She attempts to withdraw her hand, but I hold on to it. “It’s not about the money.”
I keep talking, hoping it’ll show her I’m not here to judge her. “For me, it’s about the journey and the people I meet along the way. I’ve been incredibly lucky. I have friends in almost every industry and that keeps things fun.”
“Fun.” She repeats the word as if it’s not one she would associate with work.
“How about you? How did you get your start?”
The flash of sadness in her expression takes me by surprise. “Not the same way you did. Could we talk about something else?”
“Sure.” I ask her what she likes about living in Boston. The conversation turns to an easy chat about the vibe of the city and our favorite haunts.
She traces one of my knuckles with her thumb. “When I graduated from college I used to go to the Museum of Fine Arts and order a bottle of wine and a cheese plate. I thought I was being incredibly sophisticated.”
“I totally get that. I hung out in coffee shops with my laptop and a latte imagining I was the epitome of coolness.”
“I miss those days.”
“So let’s do it. Let’s go to the museum when we get back. You can get me drunk and explain why a black dot on a white piece of paper is art.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not all like that.”
“Prove it when we get back.”
“You’re on.”
The rest of the ride we chat easily. The farther we get from the city the more relaxed she becomes. By the time we pull up to our destination her shoes are off and her feet are resting comfortably on the dashboard as she taps them to the beat of the music on the radio.
“Where are we?”
“In the winter it’s a ski resort.”
“And this time of year?”
“A buddy of mine bought some of the property on this side of the mountain. He’s made some upgrades. He gave me the keys to the kingdom today.”
“Interesting.” As we step out I hand her the bag Penny packed, and I love that she opens it immediately. I bet Christmas at her house tested her patience each year. I hope she brings the same impatience to our bed.
“We’ll change in the bathrooms and then we can start climbing.”
“A hike?”
“A journey with a destination.”
“Mysterious.”
“Like me.”
She rolls her eyes but chuckles. “Sure.”
I can’t wait a moment longer. I pull her to me and kiss her smiling lips. I tell myself to keep it light, but as soon as her body fits to mine I’m on fire for her. Her mouth opens for mine and I’m lost.
Her hands dig into my hair. I can’t get enough of her. Oh, God, one more minute of this and I’ll fuck her right here. I raise my head. She looks as dazed as I feel. “We should go change,” I say in a strangled voice.
She nods and looks around for the bag she dropped to the ground. I hand it to her and wave toward the building with the bathrooms.
After a quick change, a splash of water on my face, and a stern inner lecture, I’m back outside waiting for Kylie. She steps out in a tight-fitting pair of jeans and a low V-neck sweater that shows just enough cleavage to make me sad she won’t be facing me during my surprise for her. Why the hell did I think we should wait?
“Are we honestly going for a hike? Do you have supplies? A compass? I have hardly any phone service up here. Do you know how many horror movies start this way?”
“I love horror movies. See, we have something else in common.”
Her brows crease, and it’s my clue she’s had enough. This is where people don’t get her. She’s not annoyed, she’s worried. She’s a planner. She needs questions answered before she can relax and breathe. I don’t want to change her—just show her how we fit together.
“I have supplies, and I know this path like the back of my hand. I promise you have nothing to worry about. Our cell phones won’t work, but I have this fully charged walkie talkie should we need to get in contact with anyone. You can trust me to get you there and back just fine.”
“Trust you?”
“Have I let you down yet?”
“Yet being the operative word.”
“It’ll be fine, Kylie. I’ve got you.” I extend my hand, and though it takes a few extra beats, she takes it.
“Water. A compass. High protein food? Water proof blanket? You have those kinds of supplies? I don’t like camping but I like dying in the woods because I’m unprepared even less.”
“We’re not sleeping outside.”
“A cabin?” She lights a little with relief.
“Have a little faith in me.”
“I’m trying.” She’s smiling as we head up the path toward what I hope will be something special. “It’s really serene here.”
“I’d suggest this as a place to meditate, but I doubt we’d keep our clothes on long.” I kick a hot glance her way and love the desire I see in her eyes. I might be suffering, but she’s right there with me.
“I don’t have the right shoes if we’re going to rock climb.”
“The suspense is killing you isn’t it?”
“A little.”
“The wait is over.” I point to a clearing on a ledge as we approach. “You’re about to get one hell of a view.”
“A zip line?” Her hand flies to her mouth in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to try one.”
“There are five. They weave their way back down the other side of the mountain, nearly to the bottom. We’ll take them together, and then I have something special waiting for us. You game?”
“What made you pick this?” She’s looking over the expansive landscape and drawing in a deep breath.
“Flying through the sky at breakneck speeds and conquering gravity is the only thing I could think of that would come close to how you make me feel.”
She frowns at me—then smiles. “I like that.”
“Plus if you get scared, you can hold on to me.” I flex to make her laugh. “I’ll protect you.”
“What you mean is I’ll cushion your crash.” She chuckles.
“Either way it’s a win-win for me.” This time she doesn’t laugh.
“And for me?” Her tone is surprisingly serious.
I’m tempted to joke that since it’s a day spent with me she’s already won, but that isn’t what she needs. I’m asking her to take a leap of faith—literally. “Trusting me is a risk, but life is about more than being safe—or it should be.” I cup her face and kiss her. She tastes like cautious yearning and fire. She didn’t get where she is in business by being timid. If I can bring that side of her to us—I’ll have the partner I’ve always wanted.
Her hands slide between us, exploring my chest, and I’m in heaven. Her tongue is bold—her caress confident. I want her so badly I forget where we are. There is only her and how she makes me feel.
God, a kiss shouldn’t feel as good as any fuck ever has, but hers does. I raise my head because I’m too close to taking her right here. I’m not the guy who fucks and walks away. Kylie matters to me.
Proving that to her is excruciatingly frustrating, but it’s also exciting as hell. “Ready?”
She looks up at me in bemused confusion. “For?”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Zip lining?”
After blinking a few times quickly, she nods.
A moment later she’s tight to my lap, and I loop a hand around her waist. It’s not a safety measure, but I need to hold her. Need. It’s beyond want. Every moment we’re not touching feels a little like death. Every place our bodies connect is blissfully alive—and blatantly hard. “Here we go.”
“If this doesn’t kill me, I may love it.”
“That’s a pretty good motto to live by.”
I release the brake and she lets out a sexy nervous yelp as we start our first decent.
“Are you all right?”
She only answers with a small nod as her eyes rove over the landscape below. “It’s beautiful.”
“Gorgeous.” I’m leaning forward and whisper into her ear.
She smiles over her shoulder at me then exclaims, “Look, there’s deer.” She points like an excited child. “This is amazing.”
“Yes, it is. I knew you’d like it.” I pull her in a little closer and breathe in the sweet smell of her shampoo.
“I do, but how could you be so sure?”
“Wild. Dangerous, but not deadly. Private. Breathtaking and bold. That’s all very you.” I don’t expect her to gush something similar. I’d be disappointed if she did. Not to brag, but women often see me as a good catch. I’m good-looking, funny, and successful. If my ego needs stroking, I can choose any of the women my sisters have sent my way. Some of them are so quick with the compliments they could have written PR release packets for me. I like having to try a little harder.
She leans her head back on my chest as we close in on the second platform. The sun is starting to sink low, turning the clouds varying shades of pink and red. I could not have bought a more romantic scene. We unclip. How can I not kiss her again? She meets me halfway, which makes Mr. Closure sure we can survive fucking right here on the platform. I am not as sure, so I tear my mouth from hers, hold her for a moment, then begin to clip her into the next harness.
While I’m doing up my own, she mutters, “Ben?”
I look up. “Yes?”
The caution is gone from her gaze. In its place is the same hot desire burning through me. She shakes her head. “Forget it.”
I grin. In my fantasy she was about to ask me to do what I just convinced myself we shouldn’t attempt. I’m all about dabbling in danger, but the full body cast I’d wear after falling from our perch would delay fucking her a second time, and I have a feeling once will not be enough.
I kiss her sweet lips one last time and spin her around to clip us together again. It’s one amazing ride, another toe curling kiss after the next until we finally reach the bottom. I try to summon work-related code issues, but Mr. Closure is temporarily in control. He’s filling my brain with vivid images of all the ways Kylie and I could be enjoying ourselves if we shed some of this clothing.
She’s talking but I can’t concentrate on much beyond the excitement in her eyes and the touch of her hand on my arm. Holy shit, I hope I brought enough condoms.
“That was exhilarating!” She’s breathless in the sexiest kind of way.
That’s one word for it.
“Hungry?” I ask. I’m not, not for food at least, but there’s something to be said to planning for stamina.
She looks around and her face lights up when she spots the surprise I arranged for us. The sun has set and the twinkling lights strung up in the tree branches look like stars. A beautifully set table, worthy of any fine restaurant, waits for us beneath the lights. If the staff is as good as my friend claims, that silver bucket of ice contains a bottle of Kylie’s favorite champagne. There are definite perks to having Penny on my side.
“You did all this?”
I shrug. “This isn’t how all ziplines end?”
With impeccable timing, soft music, activated by a motion detector, kicks on. I’ve never gone to this length to impress a woman. Will it work? “You like it?”
She steps away from me and to the table. “Is this how you treat all your dates?”
I turn her toward me. “What do you think?”
“I don’t need a man to sweep me off my feet. Romance is wasted on me. I don’t believe in it.”
I hold out a chair for her. She sits. I brush my lips over her ear and growl softly, “Really? Then humor me, because I do.”
I lift the champagne out of the ice and say, “Dom Pérignon, wonder if it’s any good.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I underestimated you.”
I shoot her a grin designed to wet her panties. “You have no idea.”
For emphasis, I pop the cork. As I pour a glass for her, I’m feeling pretty damn good about how the date is turning out. “There’s only one thing I couldn’t figure out.” I sit and fill my own glass.
“And that is?”
“How to time the food without having anyone else here.” I send a quick text to the staff waiting a short distance away. “So, keep your clothes on princess, at least until dessert.”
She opens her mouth and I can see her change her mind before she utters a word. Instead she takes a sip of her champagne and gives me a long look.
It’s enough to send all my blood southward again. “Unless you’re not hungry.”
Sadly, a man appears carrying two bowls of salad. When he places one in front of Kylie, I ask, “Can you bring all the courses now?”
“Now, sir?”
“Pile it all on the table. Salad. Steak. Cake. Coffee. All of it. Then you’re free to go.”
“Of course, sir,” the man answers. If he so much as smirks he can kiss his huge tip goodbye. Wisely, he doesn’t.
Kylie looks like she’s holding back a laugh. “I can’t imagine what he thinks is going to happen on this table.”
“I can.” I’m grinning at her like the smitten sap I am and I don’t even care. The man returns with another staff member and a large tray of food. They set it up beside our table and retreat as quickly as they arrived. I’ll make sure they’re well compensated. Later. Right now there is nothing more important than the woman who is smiling and shaking her head like she cannot believe this is happening.
“You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No reason not to be. I’m fucking amazing.” I would never say that to a woman who took me seriously. I wave my hand at the food. “Come on, admit it.”
She makes a show of looking from the hanging lights to the plates of steaks. “I’ve been on worse dates.”
“Have you?” I pick a roll off the tray and throw it at her. It bounces off her shoulder.
“Yes.” She picks one up and would have hit me with it if I wasn’t expecting it. I laugh when it flies by. My gloat is cut short when the next roll hits me square in the forehead.
We share a laugh.
“But have you been on better?” I challenge.
There it is—that serious look again. “No,” she says so quietly I wouldn’t have heard her if I hadn’t been listening with every fiber of my being.
We could skip eating and head straight back to the cabin. My stomach growls in protest. I switch out the salad for my plate of steak. Or at least cut down on the courses. I slice into the steak.
She digs into her salad, looking grateful I didn’t make a big deal out of her admission. She’s beginning to open up to me and for now that’s enough.
My steak is delicious. I offer her a bite. She opens her mouth, and I slide the piece in. The look of pleasure on her face has my heart pounding like crazy. I need to hold it together.
I pour a second glass of champagne for each of us. “What is your earliest memory?” I ask, both because I’m curious and because it seems like a topic that would put anyone at ease.
Between bites of salad, she says, “I don’t like to look back.”
“That’s not true. Your screen saver is from your childhood. Your password is too.”
“Okay. Then I guess I prefer to remember specific times in my life, but not my childhood in general.”
“Was it that bad?”
She places her fork down and chugs half her glass of champagne. “It wasn’t good or bad—it was what it was.”
“Is that how you’ve labeled that box?”
“What box?”
“The one you stuffed all of your hurt into?”
She finishes her glass. “I thought we were here to have fun, to relax.”
I stand, take her by the hand, and pull her to her feet. “Come on then.”
She looks wide-eyed and cautious until she realizes I’m leading her to a swing. It’s a simple wood plank and two ropes rigged up over a large branch. “Guaranteed fun.”
“I don’t know—”
“When’s the last time you were on a swing?” If I was certain the staff was gone, I’d suggest we get creative on it, but I’m trying to contain myself to simply return a smile to her face for now.
“I have no idea. But I know I wasn’t old enough to drink champagne.”
“Then you should definitely try it. The end of childhood shouldn’t also be the death of all that was fun from it. Who says there has to be a last time for going down a slide? Climbing a tree? We work too hard to not kick up our heels and laugh now and then. Don’t you agree?”
“On a swing?” She gestures at it, and I can see a flicker of interest. She takes another sip of her champagne before I grab it and place it by the tree. “You sure this is safe?”
“I’ll catch you if it’s not.” I pat the wood plank and watch as she slides on, the twinkling lights making her wide eyes sparkle. After a few tentative pumps she gives in to the momentum and nostalgia. Her head is tipped back. Her long hair flowing nearly to the ground as she leans back.
I go behind her and give a push that sends her soaring. She lets out a squeal and I laugh.
“I forgot how much fun this is.”
“How do you get off?”
She continues to pump while tipping her head to one side. “Excuse me?”
I chuckle. “The swing. Are you the type who lets it come to a natural stop, do you drag your feet to slow it down, or do you jump?”
She doesn’t answer, my guess is because she doesn’t like what her response would reveal. I hold out my arms. “Jump, I’ll catch you.”
“You’re crazy.”
I might be, but only for her.
She shakes her head. “Back up, and I’ll try to jump.”
“Which is it: Do you think I won’t catch you or that I can’t?”
Her silence is telling.
I simply stand there, holding out my arms. She frowns then on her next approach launches herself off the swing and at me. I move to catch her. I stumble beneath the impact of her body against mine and land flat on my ass with her straddling me.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a rush and attempts to stand.
I grab her by the hips and hold her to me. “Never been better.” With a roll, I change our positions so I’m above her. Our kiss is explosive. Her mouth opens to mine as her legs do the same. Our tongues dance, and I slide my throbbing cock back and forth against her hot sex. Dry humping in high school never felt this good.
Her hands are everywhere, grasping my back, slipping beneath my jeans and squeezing my ass. I could come from this alone, but there’s no way I’ll allow myself to miss out on how much better this is going to get.
Just down the path I have a cabin set up for our first time. I tell myself to end the kiss now. That doesn’t stop my hands from sliding up the back of her shirt and releasing the clasp of her bra. Her breasts fill my hands as perfectly as I knew they would.
I ease her up enough so I can whip her sweater over her head then toss her bra to the side. She rips my shirt off as well.
I pause long enough to appreciate the view of her puckered nipples begging for my kisses beneath the light of the moon. I roll onto my back, loving how they dance free above me as I do. She bends so one of her tits is just above my mouth, and I pull her the extra inch closer.
Better. Now my hands are free to explore while I tease her with my teeth and tongue. She arches closer and I tug the sides of her jeans down. When she doesn’t move to assist, I playfully slap her ass. She knows what I want.
She shifts to a position that allows me to slide her jeans along with her panties to her knees. She takes it from there, kicking off her shoes as well as the rest of her clothing.
I take advantage of her spread legs and delve my fingers into the folds of her sex. She’s so wet, so ready. I count to fifty and fight for control. Her mouth is raining hot kisses on my neck. I thrust my middle finger into her while settling my thumb over her clit. It’s a move I learned in college that has served me well many times. If done just right I can reach—
She gasps and clenches around my finger.
Found it. The magical spot that drives women wild. I really don’t know why college courses don’t cover this. The world would be a happier place if all sex started with a better understand of anatomy.
She closes her eyes and braces herself by placing her hands on my chest while I pump my finger up and down, deeper and deeper. I play her clit with the skill of a man who has done his homework on this subject as well.
A beautiful red flush spreads up her chest and she calls out, “Oh, God, Ben, don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
I don’t know what kind of douche she’s been with that would make her think she needs to make that demand, but my intention is to make her come before, during, and after I do. I’m a gentleman, after all.
Her eyes fly open, and she shudders and whimpers while looking directly into my eyes. It’s so hot my cock aches in my jeans.
The next kiss wipes all thought clear out of my head. There’s no longer technique or counting. She undoes the clasp of my jeans. I lift my hips to allow her to slide them down. She tosses them to the side.
She kisses her way down my bare chest to my stomach, and I stop her there. I want her mouth on my cock more than I want to breathe, but that’s not how I want to come for the first time with her. I halt her and make a side grab for a condom in my pants. It’s a pause neither of us welcomes, but part of not being a dick is respecting the big picture—and her.
College should also teach a course on that—maybe they do. Fuck, I can’t think straight anymore. I slide the condom on and dig a hand into her hair. One more roll and her knees are around my waist and the tip of my cock slides across her slit.
Her eyes are closed again, so I wait. I tease her with just my tip and whisper, “Kylie, look at me.”
She does, and I thrust into her. She gasps and opens her legs wider for me. I kiss her deeply, then thrust myself, balls deep into the glorious wet glove of hers. Again and again. Deeper and deeper. Fuck, she clenches around me with a strength I knew she’d have.
Her hands are magic. They’re everywhere I want them to be with a skill that, although it doesn’t surprise me, pleases me. I don’t want a virgin—I want an equal, and I’ve found one.
I pound into her, wilder and wilder until I hear her breath catch and she starts to warn me not to stop again. Don’t worry, baby, there’s no chance of that now. I hang on until she begins to whimper and shudder beneath me, then I release my load with one final thrust.
Holy fuck.
I ease onto my side and remove my condom, tossing it on the ground behind me. She collapses against me, and I hug her to my chest. Her lips brush across my neck. “Wow.”
“You can say that again.”
We have a moment or two of absolute afterglow bliss then she sits straight up. “Are we alone?” She reaches for her sweater as she asks.
“I’m seventy-five percent certain we are,” I joke.
She pulls the sweater on and reaches for her pants. “Oh, my God, what were we thinking?”
“I can only speak for myself.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and am rewarded with a glare. I laugh. Pretend anger all you want, honey. I reluctantly reach for my jeans.
She throws my shirt at me. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s also not a tragedy. Worst case: we just gave someone a lesson on how to do it right.” I put my shirt on.
One of my shoes flies by my head. I laugh again. “Unless you think you weren’t up to par and then we could do it again.”
She waves my other shoe at me. “You’re so lucky I don’t actually want to hurt you.”
I take the shoe from her hands. “Lucky, that is exactly how I’m feeling right now.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her until the fight leaves her and she winds her arms around my neck.
When I raise my head, she asks, “Do you know what doesn’t help a CFO? Pictures of her naked getting busy with a boy toy.”
My chest puffs. “Boy toy? I’m flattered. What can I call you?”
She opens her mouth to tell me, but I kiss her before she has a chance. It’s probably better if I don’t let her say something she’ll want to apologize for later.
When I lift my head, we’re both breathing raggedly again. Time for the cabin.
We finish getting dressed. I toss my condom in the trash. See, gentleman through and through.
Back at her side I can’t contain my grin. She’s trying to appear composed and in control, so I don’t mention the grass in her hair or the freshly fucked glow on her face. “The cabin is right down this path.” I hold out my hand to her.
She takes it.
There’s no need to rush. She’s mine. Now I want her to see that we can enjoy each other, and it doesn’t have to be awkward.
“Is that water down there?” she points to a clearing and cranes her neck to see better.
“It’s a little pond.”
I guide her down the path that leads to the water. The cabin can wait. The moon lights the way, but the little solar lights the staff put in don’t hurt either. I tell myself they did it before they left.
“The moonlight on the water is incredible. You don’t see this in the city.” When we’re close enough to fall in she stops.
I bend down and pick up a stone. A flat round rock with smooth edges. It’s sheer muscle memory that pulls my arm back just right and releases it with a flick of my wrist. The rock skips across the smooth surface of the water.
“Was that three times?” Kylie asks as she bends to find her own stone. “I used to be able to—” She stops and frowns.
“What is it?” I turn her toward me.
“Nothing.”
I tip her face up so she’s forced to meet my gaze. “I like you, Kylie. Not just because of what we shared back there. It’s your choice to believe that or not. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change that.”
“Really? You know what I was thinking? That I could skip it six times. Like that matters. Like beating you at rock skipping matters. That’s who I am, though. Sure you want to know the real me?”
“You’re competitive. News flash, everyone knows that. Yet here I am. Give it your best shot. I’m not afraid to lose to you—because we’re on the same side. If we do this right, anyway.” I take a step back so I can get a good view.
She looks around and chooses a stone. She does pretty well the first shot, it skips three times just like mine, but she’s not satisfied. She chooses another. “I used to try to get Penny to do this with me all the time, and she said I was so competitive I sucked the fun right out of it.”
I pick my next stone with more care and flick it. Five skips. “When I run I don’t pace myself against a walker. I like the energy of someone who just might be faster than I am.”
“Because you want the rush when you beat them.”
“Because even if I don’t, I’ve challenged myself beyond where I was before. It’s the same way in my job. I choose projects that matter to me, ones that teach me something or force me to recognize how much I have left to learn.”
“I like that.” She skips another stone and this time it matches my number. “What this really needs is a wager,” I tell her casually as I toss another one in, this time not even attempting to skip it across the surface.
“Does it?” She skips the next stone and this time it goes six full hops and nearly crosses the entire pond. Now she’s happy. “What do you have in mind?”
“Winner plans the next date.”
Her mouth rounds. “Next?”
“Or the next fuck. I’m open to either.” I toss another stone without even trying.
“How do you plan a fuck?”
“Someone always determines the when and where. If not, it just happens, for example, in the woods where anyone could see.”
“Funny.” She tosses another perfect six. “Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for another win-win scenario.”
I choose my next stone. “Scaredy cat.”
“What did you say?”
In a low tone, I say, “Bock, bock, bock.”
“You’re an ass.” She presses her lips together and my cock springs back to life.
I think it was six skips. Who knows? All it took was the word ass for my eyes to be drawn to hers as she bent down for her throw. Down boy, how am I going to win if I drain my ability to concentrate?
“Shit,” she said. “Four.”
I rub a hand over my chin. “I choose planning the next fuck as the prize.”
I bend over to toss a rock.
She whispers, “Don’t mess up, because I’d love to taste that cock of yours tonight.”
The rock hits the water with a plunk. I swing around and pull her to me. “Cheater.”
Her eyes round in feigned innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”
A laugh rumbles out of me. She joins in.
I lift her in my arms and carry her up the path.
“Hey, I won,” she protests, but she’s still laughing.
“Then start planning.”