by Vivian Wood
But I want it too. My hands find his shirt, tugging on it. He drops one of his hands to my lower back, pulling me closer. I stretch my whole body and he covers it with his own, even though he is much too tall for the cot we are on.
I open my mouth more fully to him and hitch my legs up on his big body. He bucks against me, just once. I’m reminded of just how big his cock is when it is pressed between my thighs like that. With only our shorts on, it feels like there is nothing between us.
And yet, I want more. I know that he can give me an orgasm so good, it curls my toes and has me shouting his name. I yank at his shirt again and he pulls back to shed it.
Then he is on me again, kissing my neck. My hands have miles of bare skin to smooth over, finding the nooks and crannies on his hardened body echo the ones I remember. I find that he still has that incredible vee of muscle at his hips, pointing down below his dark shorts. His hand drops to my breast and I arch up into his touch with a gasp.
Yes. This is what I need. What I’ve needed since the first day I saw him in Whiskey Bend. I feel alive under his touch, in a way I haven’t felt in years.
It begins to rain outside, but even though the door to the cabin is still wide open, I hardly notice. I’m too busy inhaling him, drinking him in, taking Grayson any way I can get him.
I wriggle, needing my shirt gone. He’s only too willing to whip it off over my head. I’m not wearing anything underneath. He sees my tightened nipples and swears under his breath.
Grayson’s tongue and teeth find my nipple, his mouth hot as he kisses, licks, and bites my breast. I gasp again and arch my whole body against him, the movement fluid. His hardened cock almost touches my pussy and I bite my lower lip.
I need more.
He spends a minute kissing my breasts and feeling every inch of my bare skin. I am practically panting by the time he stands to take my sleep shorts off. I drink in the sight of him, shirtless, his eyes gone dark with arousal. I expect him to take off his own shorts, but he doesn’t.
He just kneels between my knees and kisses his way inward from my knee, torturing me. I shiver with anticipation, growing wetter by the second. He brushes his fingers along my core, dipping them inside me all too briefly.
“Please,” I whimper. I sit up partway, needing to see him. He smiles, suddenly cocky.
“Lay back, baby. Just enjoy.” He croons the words to me almost as if he is serenading me.
I forget what I was thinking a second later when his fingers part my pussy lips and his hot mouth lowers over my aching clit.
“Ohhh,” I cry, sinking back down. “Grayson… god, that feels good.”
He chuckles against me, which also feels amazing. Then he does figure of eights with his tongue against my clit. I’m already on the edge, I don't need him to hold back at all.
“I’m already close,” I whisper. Plunging my fingers into his short hair, I can feel myself moving closer to the peak. “Jesus, Gray. You are going to be the death of me.”
He closes his lips around my clit and sucks, gently at first and then more roughly. I hit my peak and then fall apart, calling his name as I come. He keeps working his magic tongue until I pull him away.
He reluctantly allows it, kissing his way up to my lips. I realize with a shiver of pleasure that I can taste myself on his tongue.
“On to bigger and better things,” I whisper, working my hand between our bodies.
I grab his cock, admiring how fucking huge it is, only to see an anguished expression overtake his face. He pulls away from my seeking fingers.
“I can’t.” There’s no real explanation other than that, but the look on his face is hangdog enough to make me want to know more.
“Why not?” I reach for his cock again, pouting.
Grayson pushes himself up off the cot, looking as tormented as I was earlier. His erection is obvious, so there is no problem there.
I start to lose my patience. “I’m sorry, but… what?”
He shoves his hand through his mess of dark hair. “I just… I just can’t. I think I should say goodnight, Rachel.”
Then he picks up his shirt and practically runs out into the rain. I feel gutted right now, totally bereft. I’m left pulling my shorts back on and wondering what exactly just happened.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Grayson
I barely sleep that night. Rachel’s scent and taste have soaked into every one of my senses. The little moans she couldn’t keep in as I was face-deep in her pussy, her legs splayed out before me, my hands under her ass. The entire time, my cock was so hard that I could barely think of anything else.
Leaving her cabin while the air still smelled like fresh sex was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And yet as I retreated to a shelter I made out of tarps, rain heavy on my face and body, I knew I was right.
I’m too weak to love her and let her go. Though every inch of me aches to be with her, to be deep inside her, I know that this is how it has to be.
I still know it, tossing and turning in my sleeping bag. Every single movement makes the tarps around me crinkle. I listen to the sound of the wind whistling through the tree branches and the trees creaking under the pressure of the raindrops. It almost reminds me of an angry voice, whispering the reasons I have made a terrible mistake. There are a thousand reasons why I can’t get involved with Rachel again. And yet here I am, having made a slip and touched her — tasted her — even though I know better.
Eventually I fall into a fitful half-sleep, dreaming of Rachel walking among the sand dunes. They are vaguely reminiscent of the ones I saw the day of the accident. She’s wearing a bright red sarong, the color catching in her normally brown eyes. She laughs and walks a few feet in front of me, glancing back seductively over her shoulder.
I can’t take my focus off of her for very long, but I am filled with this feeling of dread, knowing that just ahead there is danger. I try to tell her, but she doesn’t listen. She just laughs and takes me by the hand, pulling me along to what is certain to be my death.
I wake up with every muscle in my body clenched tight. There is a pool of moisture underneath me, though how much of it is sweat and how much is leftover rainwater is impossible to tell.
At least the rain has vanished. The sunlight tells me that I’ve slept in a bit. Checking my watch, I see that it’s almost nine in the morning. I get up with a frown already on my lips.
Needless to say, I’m grumpy as fuck going into the morning. When I walk to the fire pit in the center of the camp site, I’m surprised to find a fire crackling. There is a pot of coffee bubbling away in the fire, too. Rachel comes out of the cabin where we keep the food, a couple of plates in hand.
When she spots me, she turns red. Lifting her chin, she walks over to me.
“Hey.”
I pause, exhaling. “Hey.”
“I made breakfast.” She sets down a plate of scrambled eggs and chicken sausages and a plate of hash browns.
I run my hands through my hair, scrubbing my scalp. “Listen, about last night—”
She looks up, a pinched and uncomfortable smile on her lips. “Forget it. I was just lonely. It won’t happen again.”
I scan her face, uncertain. But she seems to have moved on. My muscles loosen a bit.
“Alright.”
Rachel isn’t looking at me. She busies herself splitting the food between the two plates, handing me two thirds of everything. I trot over to the food storage cabin and return with two mugs, pouring the steaming coffee into them.
We sit at the table, eating in silence. The coffee that Rachel made is pretty weak, but I don’t say anything. At least the food is good.
“The hash browns turned out nice,” I comment.
She smiles briefly but doesn’t say anything. She’s still not meeting my gaze, either.
Now is the time for me to pull something good out of my hat. Something that is just for her, to show her that I still feel for her. I might not be able to act on it and I can’t seem t
o say it aloud, but I can show her. She just has to let me.
“Hey, I was thinking that we could take a break from collecting specimens today. Why don’t we hike down south a little way? There is something that I think you would like.”
She pulls a face. “I don’t know. Can you be more specific about what it is?”
I roll my eyes. “You’ll have to take my word for it. Can you trust me?”
Rachel chooses that moment to look up and pin me with her gaze. I want to say that the look in her eyes was trusting or even just well-intentioned, but no. From the quick glance I get, all I see is a mix of uncertainty and fear.
Then she looks away again. “Sure,” she mumbles.
I sip the last of my coffee, grimacing internally. She has every reason to be upset right now. I just wish I could make her stop feeling so unsure of me. There isn’t any way to do that without talking about it, though. And that is just not gonna happen.
Not today.
Not ever, if I get my way.
“I’ll clean up the dishes,” I offer. “Go get ready for today. You won’t need any of your overnight stuff, just snacks and water. Wear a bathing suit though.”
She crooks an eyebrow but just nods, heading to her cabin. I feel a pang of guilt, but I push it down inside, smother it with all the other pangs of guilt I have floating around my system.
When we meet back up half an hour later, I lead her south. I keep checking my compass to make sure that we are on the right path; the place we are going is straight up magical, almost to the point of disbelief. So the last time I was there, I made a point of learning the exact co-ordinates and how to get there from Lake Sutherland.
The day itself is bright and cheerful, the sun high and the skies perfectly blue. We slope gently downward. As we pass by, the trees start growing inward, blocking more and more of the path. The trail peters out pretty quickly. After that we have to hack our way through brush.
“There’s no hiking trail to where we are going?” Rachel asks. She steps over the exposed roots of a giant pine tree, looking distressed.
“No. But we’re not that far from it. Maybe two miles or so to go.”
When I look back, she is staring at the ground with a frown of concentration. Sucking in a breath, I push on. This will cheer her up, without a doubt. We are getting close to it now; I recognize this little hill that we are climbing. Closing my eyes, I can hear the sound of water rushing and crashing. With every step, it gets a little bit louder.
Just before we crest the hill, I stop. Looking back at her, I smile.
“I think you should go first.”
Her brow crinkles. “What? Why?”
“You’ll have to take my word on faith.” I grab her hand, encouraging her to go ahead. “You won’t regret it, though.”
Her lips dip down into a hardened frown, but she shakes off my touch and goes ahead. I hold my breath for a second, giving her a little space. Trailing a few feet behind her, I wait for her reaction.
It happens the moment she hits the top of the hill. She pauses and looks down. Her breath leaves her in a quiet gasp. Her hand flies to her lips. She looks back at me with wide eyes.
“Oh my god,” she says.
“They are there, then?”
I climb the last few steps until I am looking down into a valley. Before us is a broad expense of brown stone steps, built by someone unknown to me. They sweep down, following the river. Just here the two converge, water gushing busily down the steps.
The shallow, slower moving water attracts many forms of wildlife, but this particular clearing is big enough to draw in elk. And not just a couple of animals; the valley below us is filled with a number of them, probably twenty or so, including a few calves.
There is a full waterfall just a little way upstream. Because of some strange acoustics it seems like the sound of the water rushing fills the space we are in. It also masks our natural noise and sort of hides us from the elk.
They are pretty damned majestic, standing together and drinking from the river.
Rachel grabs my arm, her voice dropping to a whisper. “They are so beautiful!”
I smile. “They are, aren’t they?”
She nods, her eyes still wide. “Yeah. Should we find somewhere to sit and watch them for a bit?”
“Lead the way.” I wave my hand.
She takes my hand and pulls me down the hill a few feet until we’re in a grassy spot. We both sit, watching the elk as they stalk around the clearing below. I take off the light day pack I’m carrying and pull out a bag of trail mix and a bag of dried apricots. Opening the two bags in the space between Rachel and me, I graze and look down on the elk.
With so much water noise, there isn’t really any need to talk. Rachel pulls a floppy purple sun blocking hat out of her bag, donning it silently. We just sit and enjoy the warmth of the afternoon sun in silence.
Rachel nibbles on a couple of the dried apricots. I reach for a handful of trail mix at the same time as she reaches for another apricot. She looks away, turning red.
How are we in a place where last night I devoured her pussy and yet today she blushes when our hands touch by accident? I feel like it’s two steps forward and one huge step back with us.
After we’ve been sitting for a while, the afternoon sun grows hot on my face. I look up at the waterfall. I keep thinking how good it would feel to plunge my whole body in the water.
“You ready to get wet?” I ask.
She blushes bright pink. “Maybe?”
I stand up, brushing myself off. “Come on. We can put our stuff down on one of the big rocks by the waterfall and then cool off in the water.”
She trails behind me as I hike the short way uphill. I get a better view of the waterfall. It’s about twenty feet tall, with a gush of water leaping off a little cliff. The water lands with a soft splash at a spot that has been worn smooth over time. There are many big boulders clustered around the pool formed at the base of the waterfall. A testament to the way that water can cut through stone if ever there was one.
Here, the sound of the water is more intense. I drop my bag on one of the boulders and peel off my shirt. Rachel takes off her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a bright white bikini. My first instinct is to grab her and pull her into the waterfall. To kiss her and tell her to forget about what we said this morning.
But I don’t. Instead I wade into the water. Looking back, I beckon her. “Come on.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I should have brought a sample tube with me.”
Shaking my head at her, I walk under the spray. It’s icy, but I don’t mind. For a second I’m blind. Or rather, I can only see the rushing water as it pours over my face. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, letting the water wash over me.
This is one of the things I use as a tool of meditation. When everything is too crazy in my life, I sit and focus on the memory of the water rushing over my face. Of how clean I feel. I know it’s just a waterfall but for a moment, standing just here, I have lived a blameless life. I let it all just wash away with the currents.
The feeling is hypnotic, almost. Numbingly cold too. It’s only when I feel Rachel disrupting the flow of the water that I come out of the trance. Stepping out of the water, I run my hands over my head and my hair.
She ducks her head under the waterfall, coming back out with a shocked expression. “It’s freezing!”
I grin at her. “For a hydrogeologist, you are easily surprised by the temperate of water.”
She reaches down and splashes me. “You talk a lot of trash for a park ranger.”
My grin widens. “I’m glad you’re here.”
My look of surprise after the words escape my lips wars against hers. They just slipped out.
Her cheeks go pink but she doesn’t look away. “Me too.”
I want to kiss her, but I can’t do that. So instead I splash her again. She cracks up and retaliates, soaking me with a slosh.
For the first time in a long ti
me, I don’t worry about Rachel. I don’t try to guess what she is thinking or feel guilty about our past. For a period of time we’re not even Rachel and Grayson, a complex couple of people joined by a dark and twisted past.
We’re just a guy and a girl who are enjoying sloshing around in the water and splashing each other. With matching grins on both of our faces, we don’t talk about anything substantial. We simply are.
And that’s enough for right now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grayson
Four Years Earlier
Taking my first deep breath since I left the hospital, I try to steady myself. I stick my head out of the passenger window, enjoying the sunlight, and gulp down the air over the Hudson River. It reminds me of nothing but home. Well, nothing but Rachel, more like.
I haven’t talked to her in almost a year. I feel an intense yearning every time I picture her face. But then I picture telling her about where I’ve been, why I’ve been absent.
Specifically, I see her face falling when I tell her what I did.
That I wasn’t good enough.
I fantasize about witnessing her realizing that I’m not good enough for them or her or anybody.
And I just can’t take that risk. I think about it now and my whole body breaks out in shivers, even though it’s hot as fuck in the truck right now. It’s almost enough to make me tell Aiden to turn the truck around.
Almost.
I try to focus on something nice about the day, instead of being terrified about the future.
It’s beyond nice to be free of the hospital. Free of all the medications and all the whacked-out people sitting around, staring at the walls. Tripping on the meds, essentially.
From the driver’s seat, Aiden looks at me.
“You doing okay, man?” he asks. “You need anything?”
I smile at him. “Nah. Just taking in the city air.”
