Summer Loving

by Lise Gold et al.

  “Good.” She gave a decisive nod and came to stand next to me. “Brianna, by the way.”

  “Dean.”

  “So, Dean, what do we have here?” She placed her hands on her hips, making me think she was used to telling people what to do.

  “I don’t think it’s supposed to be all that complicated, but I seem to have left the directions at home.” I didn’t want her thinking I was one of those too-good-for-the-directions types. Hell, I was often the one writing the directions.

  “You’re in luck. I happen to own this exact tent.”

  The unspoken approval in her statement made me feel infinitely better. I might not know how to pitch a tent, but I knew how to buy one. It had to count for something with her. I hoped.

  The whole thing was up and staked in about five minutes. I tried to offer her a beer as a token of my gratitude, but she waved me off.

  “On the clock,” she said with a smile. “The boss frowns on drinking and fraternizing with park guests.”

  I tried not to be disappointed and failed.

  “You should check out the lake later, if you’re still awake. There’s a full moon and it should be a great view.”

  I couldn’t tell if she said that to soften the turndown or reinforce it. “I’ll do that.”

  She wished me a good night, reminded me to lock up all my food in the bear safe, and left me to my own devices. I managed to get a fire going—I’m not a complete idiot—and grill myself a sausage and some veggies. I bagged up and secured my trash and changed out of my cooking clothes. I might be playing the part of the novice, but that didn’t mean I wanted to entice any bears to my tent smelling like dinner.

  I had another beer—okay, two—and stared alternately at my fire and the stars. Something about it felt different from my other nights out in nature. Maybe it had to do with being solo. Or maybe it was knowing this place, generally if not this exact spot, would be home instead of just a field excursion. Whatever it was, it got me feeling downright sentimental.

  My thoughts turned to the life I’d just left behind. The city, yes, but also the inadvertent celibacy I’d been practicing for the better part of a year. It might be good for my blood pressure, but something told me moving from a major metropolis to a tiny town in the mountains wasn’t the smartest move for my dating prospects. I wasn’t looking to change my mind or anything, but that part of the move hadn’t really occurred to me.

  Just as I started to lament the thought of another whole year of not having sex, Brianna’s smile flitted through my brain. Well, her smile and her gorgeously long legs and the way her body filled out that otherwise drab park ranger uniform. She hadn’t shown that kind of interest, but damn.

  I might not be any closer to having sex, but now at least I was thinking about it. Perverse, perhaps, but an improvement.

  Maybe I’d take my thoughts about Brianna with me into my tent. Not as good as the real thing, obviously, but honestly, how long had it been since I’d even masturbated? Or even wanted to? Too long, that’s for sure.

  I spent a full minute debating between the walk to the bathrooms and peeing behind a tree. Experienced campers would do the latter, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. Not when there was running water to be had. My fire had died down enough that I didn’t worry about it setting my site on fire, so I grabbed my lantern and started the trek. It was close to midnight and the rest of the campground seemed tucked in and sound asleep.

  It was a gorgeous night, with a full moon, just as Brianna had promised. It bathed everything in a silvery glow, bright enough to cast shadows. I made it to the little building that housed the toilets and communal showers.

  After, instead of heading back to the campsite, I kept walking. I’d end up back where I needed to be eventually. And the loop would take me past the lake and the view Brianna said I should check out.

  I got to the part of the path that opened up to the small, sandy beach. Gone were the kids and their hovering parents. The water was so still, the moon reflected off its glassy surface, creating a mirror of the night sky.

  I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and had a flash of panic that I was about to come face to face with a bear. But as I trained my gaze in the direction of the lake, my pulse ratcheted up for an entirely different reason. It wasn’t a wild animal standing at the edge of the water. It was Brianna. Naked.

  Her skin glowed like a pearl in the moonlight. She waded in until the water was halfway up her thighs. Her hair hung loose, the waves falling past her bare shoulder blades. She looked like some sort of goddess, or maybe a siren. I was mesmerized.

  Without being entirely conscious of my actions, I started toward her, but almost as quickly, I stopped. I had no idea what to do or say in a moment like this. I didn’t want to startle her. And more, she probably wasn’t looking for company, especially of the hapless butch variety.

  She stretched her arms overhead and, even with her back to me, it might have been the most stunning sight I’d ever beheld. Her body curved and she dove in, disappearing with barely a splash.

  I waited for her to surface. When she did, I realized I’d been holding my breath. I let it out, but remained stock-still. I’d crossed the line into voyeur territory at this point and didn’t want to be caught.

  The second that thought passed through my mind, she looked my way. She hadn’t swum far and, even in the low light, I swear to God desire flashed in her eyes, along with a hint of challenge. My whole body, already revved up from thinking about her, responded.

  “The beach is closed after dark.” Her voice—that silky, sensuous voice—hit me before her words. When meaning followed a second later, it did nothing to calm the throbbing between my legs.

  “I…” I intended to apologize for sneaking up on her, explain that I was merely on my way back from the bathrooms. But all the blood in my body was now pulsing through my clit and my poor oxygen deprived brain couldn’t summon the vocabulary to string together a sentence. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should turn off your lantern.”

  Wait. That couldn’t be right. Surely, she’d scolded me or told me to leave. But that wasn’t what my brain registered. I stood there, unable to reconcile the words I’d heard with the ones I expected. And then I remembered her suggestion to check out the lake.

  She took a few steps toward me, exposing her breasts and her soft stomach. She folded her arms. “Unless you don’t want to join me.”

  I was pretty sure I was hallucinating at this point. That or I’d slipped into some alternate universe comprised of my every sexual fantasy. In either case, I didn’t want to know. Or to crash painfully back into the reality of my life.

  I closed the lantern, plunging my immediate surroundings into relative darkness. My eyes adjusted quickly and the scene before me—Brianna with her teasing smile and glowing skin and wet hair slicked back—came into sharper focus. Yep, whatever I’d stumbled into, I wanted to stay.

  “You’ll need to take your clothes off,” she said.

  “I will?” Not that I had a problem with that, but it was the last thing I expected her to say.

  “It’s the number one rule of breaking the rules. There’s no halfway.”

  On a normal day, I would have argued the point. Breaking the rules incrementally was how I rolled. It was the compromise people like me—uptight by nature but inherently annoyed with it—settled on. It was how we rebelled and still slept at night.

  “Does breaking the rules make you nervous? Or taking off your clothes?”

  Uh, both. But as quickly as the answer popped into my head, so did the knowledge that it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to say. I didn’t want to be the dork who couldn’t put up her own tent. I didn’t want to be the high-strung engineer from the city trying desperately to find a slower pace and a different lifestyle. I wanted to be bold. I wanted to be flirtatious. And perhaps most of all, I wanted to be whatever she wanted me to be.

  I set down my lantern and untied my boots. I toe
d them off and started pulling off my clothes, attempting and probably failing to look graceful doing it. Seconds later, I stood there, completely naked, and it occurred to me I hadn’t gone skinny dipping since I was about twenty.

  “The water is chilly, but once you get over the initial shock, it’s nice. I promise.” Her voice held this combination of assuring and teasing that I found irresistible.

  I waded in. The temperature sent a shiver through me, but it was no match for my desire to be closer to Brianna. Not to mention under water and not on complete display for any passersby. “It’s a beautiful night.”

  She smiled at my attempt at small talk. “It is.”

  “So, do you break the rules often?” Given her comment earlier when I offered her a beer, I was curious how she’d answer.

  She tipped her head ever so slightly. “Selectively.”

  She could have been talking about the activity or the company, but I didn’t really care at this point. “I can appreciate that.”

  “You?”

  I let out a breath. For some reason, it felt like a loaded question. “More of a bender, I guess.”

  She smirked. “Ah. Are you wishing you still had your clothes on?”

  Now that was a loaded question. “No.”

  “Good.”

  She dove under again and I followed suit. Now that I had adjusted to the chill, the water felt like a full body caress. I surfaced, only to find Brianna watching me with a mixture of curiosity and desire. At least I hoped it was desire. Because I wanted her with something akin to desperation and if she didn’t want me at all, well, that would be a sad state of affairs.

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and her gaze moved from my eyes down to my mouth. That look alone was enough to make my clit throb.

  I thought she might make conversation, flirtatious or otherwise. Instead, she inched closer and closer to me until less than a foot separated us. “How do you feel about public displays of affection?”

  I quirked a brow. “Well, there’s no rule against it, is there?”

  “Just public nudity, I think. But we are under water for the most part.”

  Who knew being teased could be such a turn-on? “See? Bending.”

  She smiled and waited a beat. I thought she might laugh and swim off, but she didn’t. She kissed me. Like, really kissed me.

  Unable to resist, I slid my hands up her sides, over her shoulders, and into her hair. Her skin was cool and her mouth hot. The combination did wicked things to my libido and left me wondering how far she’d go. Under water or not, it was still a public place. Where she worked, no less. When her legs came around my waist, it was all I could do not to slide my fingers over her, into her.

  She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. “Want to go back to my place?”

  I nodded. There wasn’t enough blood flowing to my brain to formulate words.

  I clumsily tugged my clothes on, the cotton sticking to my wet skin and making me feel silly. She wrapped a long length of fabric around her body and tied it behind her neck. Realizing she’d come to the lake with every intention of swimming naked made me wonder if she’d considered the possibility of company, too. Again, I remembered her invitation.

  “I’m this way.” She nodded to a narrow path I wouldn’t have noticed had she not pointed it out.

  Her cabin was small, but a massive upgrade from the tent she’d helped me pitch earlier. The room was a perfect square, with a bed, a tiny kitchen, and a sitting area dominating each of the corners not taken up by the door. A string of fairy lights, draped haphazardly around the window, cast a romantic glow over the space. “Cozy.”

  Brianna raised a brow. “Complaining?”

  “Oh, no, no.” I backpedaled so fast I nearly tripped over myself. “It’s cute. And it has a real bed.”

  She laughed then. Not a polite, all is forgiven sort of laugh, either. This one came from her belly and it was full and sexy and glorious. “Afraid you’re going to offend me and not get laid?”

  When she invited me back, I’d hoped sex might be on the table, but I knew better than to presume anything. Now, with her putting it out there almost casually, it was all I could do not to let my tongue roll out of my mouth and land at her feet.

  “You’re pretty easy to tongue-tie, you know that?” She’d stopped laughing, but her eyes continued to dance with humor.

  “I might be at a loss for words, but I assure you my tongue works just fine.”

  I’d just started to congratulate myself on the cleverness on the line when she licked her lip and lifted her chin. “Noted.”

  I might be clever, but I was completely and utterly under her spell.

  “I take it you’re better at sex than setting up camp?”

  I was too aroused to take offense. Well, aroused and way more confident in my ability to please a woman than put up a tent. “Let’s just say I have more practice.”

  “You’ll have to show me.” She ran a finger between my breasts and down my torso. Then, just like in the water, she kissed me. No hesitation, no gentle warmup. She was all in.

  This time, I had no doubt the kiss served as both consent and an invitation. Now that I had both, and we weren’t somewhere we might be seen, I didn’t hesitate to take things to the next level. Or to take charge. My fingers worked at the knot of fabric at the base of her neck and the sarong slithered to the floor. I knew she wasn’t wearing anything under it—I had already seen her naked—but the sight of her perfect breasts still managed to take my breath away.

  “You should get out of those wet clothes.”

  I looked down. My T-shirt was plastered to my chest, my erect nipples straining against the fabric. Not that I was shy, but any illusion of modesty vanished. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and, before I even got it over my head, her fingers were undoing the button and zipper of my shorts.

  In a matter of seconds, we were both naked and I was desperate to have all of me touching all of her. I guided her slowly toward the bed. I kissed her neck; she nipped my shoulder. We tumbled onto the mattress together.

  The bed creaked under our shared weight, an old but sturdy sort of sound. Her sheets were soft but they had nothing on her skin. The feel of her under me was like a drug. My hands roamed and her sighs turned into these perfect little moans. It wouldn’t take much to become addicted to that sound.

  I let my mouth wander where my fingers had been. The line of her jaw. The subtle dip above her collarbone. When I took one of her perfect pink nipples into my mouth, she arched into me. The press of her body, all soft skin and need, just about sent me over the edge.

  “Patience.” I said it for myself as much as for her.

  She let out a sound that was half laugh, half groan. Given the events leading up to this moment, it gave me immense satisfaction to be the one running the show. Yes, I liked being in control, but it was also the sense of finally being in my element.

  I continued my exploration of her body with every intention of taking my sweet time. Pleasuring a woman was as much about my own enjoyment as hers and I was more about showing than telling. A caress here, a pinch there. As far as I was concerned, I had all night.

  She squirmed under me, arched into me. She sighed and let out these tiny moans that seemed to have a direct line to my pulsing clit. I ached to be inside her, but I was having too much fun to rush. Her noises took on an air of impatience, her fingers gripped my arm tightly. Without speaking, she made her desires clear.

  I shifted back so I could stroke her legs. I loved the way her muscles moved and shifted under me, almost as much as I loved the velvety softness of her inner thigh. I closed my eyes, knowing the next place I touched would be even softer.

  “Are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to beg?” Her voice was light but her eyes were dark with wanting.

  A beautiful woman begging to be fucked might be one of my favorite things, but only when it was a game, when she already knew I’d give her exactly what she wanted. “Oh, no. No begg
ing required.”

  I grazed my fingers over the soft patch of hair and into her wetness. She arched again and let out another moan. Despite my every intention to take my time, I slid one and then a second finger inside her. She closed her eyes and clenched around me and my whole body tightened in response. I eased out and thrust in with a bit more force.

  She opened her eyes and fixed me with an intense stare. “More.”

  I reminded myself to breathe and did as she requested. Her body opened for me, yet molded around my fingers each time I filled her. It was hypnotic and perfect and I never, ever wanted it to end.

  I got onto my knees and stroked her clit with the thumb of my other hand. It was swollen and hard and I’d swear I could feel her pulse beating against me. In addition to better access, the change of position also gave me a stunning view: the way her head rolled side to side, the movement of her breasts as her breathing intensified.

  Her eyes closed tight and her hands fisted in the sheets. She started to mumble encouragement, interspersed with expletives. I wanted her to say my name, but it was hard to complain about the sounds she was making.

  “Just like that,” she said. But then she opened her eyes and smiled. “But harder.”

  My own body tightened at the command, at the idea of giving her exactly what she wanted. I fucked her harder and she met me, thrust for thrust. Her body began to quake and heat poured from her, coating my hand and pooling beneath her. I gasped. I’d never made a woman come like that before.

  She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, signaling me to stop. I reluctantly pulled away. She pressed her thighs together, opened her eyes, and smiled. “Wow.”

  I collapsed next to her, as spent and happy as if I’d had my own orgasm. “Something like that.”

  She rolled onto her side and looked me up and down. “You’re a better lover than you are a camper.”

  I laughed in spite of myself, the insult overshadowed by the lust in her eyes. “Why do I get the feeling that isn’t much of a compliment?”

  “Oh, it’s a compliment. A low bar, perhaps, but a compliment.”