by Anne Marsh
“For now, yeah.” Where else can I go, really? Back on the road, sure, but the paycheck, however small, is desperately needed, and running out on the girls seems wrong. Besides, I like to think that the girls in the Break Up Club and I are friends, so I’d have to stop and say goodbyes there, too.
“Good.” He shuts my door. “Wouldn’t be the same without you, and that’s the truth.”
Now it’s my turn to be speechless. Does he… like me? What does that even mean? Rather than try to come up with something to say, I settle for driving off. Leaving Pick standing by the side of the road is unexpectedly difficult, and I regret every inch I put between us. I do it, though.
I’m not stupid.
That man’s every bit as dangerous to my peace of mind as Thad Hill.
10
SARAH JO
I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t.
I slipped away from Baby Bear Lodge as quietly as I could. Yes, I coasted down the driveway before starting the engine. I was in super sex ninja stealth mode. My fellow members of the Break Up Club would probably condone this little midnight field trip, but I’m not in the mood for their teasing. Not now. Somehow, what started as a camp game, a gentle tease, has grown into something more, but that more is between me and Pick. Just the two of us and no one else. I tried to figure out what it might be the entire drive from my cabin to camp, but answers eluded me.
Wrapped in sleep, the fire camp is dark and silent. Stars dot the night sky above, impossibly bright. I don’t even need a flashlight to see where I’m going. Pick’s RV is parked on the other side of camp, and the man inside draws me like a compass to magnetic north.
I don’t know what I was thinking, coming here. I have no invitation, just this… chemistry. I’m not even sure I can deal with seeing Pick. He mixes me up inside, making me feel all these things. Lust, need, embarrassment, confusion, aggravation, more lust—it’s a long list. Pick’s like a bag of chips, and there’s no way I stop until I’m licking the crumbs, still craving more. I can tell myself as many times as I want that I’ll stop after one. One kiss, one touch, one night of hook up sex. One big fat lie. One certainly hasn’t been enough for me so far.
So I get out of the car and make my way toward the RV. He hasn’t even bothered locking it. The handle turns easily beneath my fingers.
Pick
I have company. The door to my RV snicks open, light spilling in from the camp outside. It’s still dark as fuck, though, so I’m not certain who’s making free with my place. I lever myself up on one arm. Late-night visits aren’t usually social calls, and the red numbers on the alarm clock read well after one o’clock. My boys do like their practical jokes, though, so I pull a wait-and-see.
It’s Christmas.
Santa dropped the biggest, best-ever gift on my doorstop and I can’t wait to unwrap it. Her.
Because that’s Sarah Jo inching her way inside my door. Her oversized Hanes is rendered semi-transparent by the faint light behind her, exposing the curve of her waist, and Christ, her magnificent tits. I didn’t pay nearly enough attention to those tits when I had her spread out on that desk, and that’s a mistake I should fix ASAP.
“You need something, Sarah Jo?”
She hovers in the open doorway, rubbing one foot against the other. One bare foot against the other. I hope she dropped her shoes at the door, but I get the feeling she drove up here this way. I should take a look at her feet. The ground outside is rough. We’ve got sticks, pinecones, and a shitload of stones. She could be cut up. I should make sure she’s okay, offer to kiss it better wherever it hurts.
“I’ve changed my mind.” Her voice is low but sure. “If your offer still stands.”
Logically, I know she’s wearing a pair of denim shorts beneath that gigantic cotton shroud, but it’s no good. I should get up and take a cold shower. Or find me a nice mountain stream to soak in until I can think about something, anything, other than putting her in my bed and making her come. Again. Doing what I should do is a goddamn problem. I want this woman something fierce.
I find myself gaping like a hooked fish, my dick tenting the sheet over my lap. Hope to fuck Sarah Jo has really poor night vision, or she’s gonna think I’m making assumptions about what her presence in my RV means. At dark o’clock. Mostly naked.
She slams the door shut, pads forward, and stumbles over my gear bag. Guess that answers the question of how good her night vision is. She seems to be flying blind here, which makes two of us. I’m used to the dark, however, so I can see the way she holds her hands out in front of her, sort of feeling her way. I reach out and hook a finger in the hem of her T-shirt, tugging her in my direction.
“One o’clock and two feet,” I promise her.
She lets me guide her, moving forward slowly until she bumps against my bed. Should have gone to her, right? I have no idea what’s happening next, but I know I don’t want to hop out of bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, sporting a monster hard-on and a grin.
She plants a knee on the bed. “You promised you’d always have a pair of open arms for me.”
“Uh-huh.” Fuck me if anything more coherent is coming out of my mouth tonight. Her eyes roam over my face, looking for something, and I try to slap an expression on my face that’s more welcoming than ravening beast, but I totally want to eat her up. A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Okay. She seems to like what she sees, so that’s good.
Just to test that hypothesis, and not because I’m dying to touch her (liar), I wrap my hand around her knee, urging her forward. Sure enough, beneath that too-big T-shirt, she’s all long, bare legs wherever I touch. Those have to be the shortest shorts in all creation, and I’m a fan.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She grins and shimmies out of her shorts. My head and my dick vie to see which will explode first, but before I can decide, she’s swings a leg over me, straddling me until we’re face-to-face. My head (one guess as to which one) promptly engages in a little mathematical exercise and determines that there are exactly three things standing between my dick and her pussy. One sheet, one pair of boxers, her panties. And a few scruples. I should get busy removing those, right?
The scruples, not the panties.
Or maybe I do mean the other way round.
“This is unexpected. But good.” I put my hands on her waist. That’s nice, neutral territory. Better than palming her tits or asking if she’d mind if I ate her pussy for my midnight snack.
“Make it better,” she demands, and I bite back a smile. She’s so take-charge. It’s downright adorable. Since I want what she wants, however, there’s no problem. I tug the T-shirt up and she helps me, grabbing the hem and yanking. Okay. So we might not want exactly the same things. She’s clearly in a rush—again—and I’m in the mood to take my time. Since I’m bigger and stronger, I end up in control of the T-shirt ascent, exposing her body in a slow, sexy striptease in the night-lit RV. First, her panties. Some kind of silky purple material this time, with little white polka dots and thin ribbons crisscrossing her hips. They’re pretty fucking amazing, although the woman in them is even better.
Then she treats me to the soft curve of her belly and higher as the T-shirt clears her shoulders and disappears over her head. Her breasts are goddamned beautiful, perfect handfuls, the nipples a sweet dark rose. I’d look all night if she’d let me, but she swings the shirt over her head and lets it fly. It disappears somewhere into the shadows and good fucking riddance. She doesn’t need to cover up around me. She makes a face, hands flying to her hair to pat and smooth. She’s tousled, but I’m just going to mess her up even more.
Where to start? She’s pretty much riding my dick through the sheet. It reminds me of how fast and hard we went at in the storage cache. She loved it when I ate her pussy, and I absolutely want to do that again, but I want other things, too. I can’t stop thinking about what I haven’t had a chance to do yet. Like fuck her gorgeous tits. Lick and suck those pretty nipples
and see if she can come that way for me, too. I run my hands up her sides and palm her breasts, working my fingers over those delicious curves.
“Come here.” Pretty sure my voice comes out more growl than request, but I’m hungry for her mouth too, and feeling greedy. She leans right into me, onboard with my new plan.
“Mmmm,” she whimpers. “Definitely better.”
Playful Sarah Jo is fucking amazing. She’s not too quiet, either—I’m gonna catch hell from my teammates tomorrow but she won’t get any complaints from me. She can come riding my face, my dick, my fingers and scream that news to the entire camp if that’s what makes her happy. Fuck, not as if I don’t love everything about her. She’s stubborn and mischievous to a fault, but I look at her and all I see is Sarah Jo. I’m counting my lucky stars that she came to me tonight, so whatever she wants, it’s hers.
She may be basically dry-fucking my dick, but our kiss starts out surprisingly sweet. Mouths closed, lips on lips while I give into temptation and finger her nipples as I take her mouth. She rocks gently against me and then harder, the sexy roll of her hips picking up speed as she breathes harder. She’s practically panting when she pulls back from our kiss.
“You going to undress for me?” She doesn’t stop riding me so I’m not sure how she expects a coherent answer. My dick has plenty of things to say for me, as it’s pointing out.
“You taking these off?” I counter her question with an important one of my own, hooking a thumb in the ribbons at the sides of her panties and tugging.
Her eyes darken. “I could be convinced.”
She slides off me, taking her sweet time to do so. When she stands up on the bed, her head almost brushes the RV’s roof. We don’t have a whole lot of room to work with here. I settle back and enjoy my new view as she slowly works those panties down her hips, over that sweet pussy and her thighs, before stepping out of them. Fuck me, but she’s killing me. The kick that sends those panties over the side of the bed, though, is pure impatience.
I take advantage of the moment to shove my boxers and the sheet down, looking my fill all the while. I’m putting my tongue right there, I decide, where I can see the dark shadow of hair between her thighs. I’ll be all over her, kissing and licking until she hollers and we set my RV to rocking something fierce. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but she’s apparently decided to green-light my fantasies for the night, and I don’t need asking twice.
“Shoot.” She sort of hops in place, which makes her tits bounce and I might be drooling. “The condom was in my shorts.”
It’s good that she’s come prepared, but I’ve got her covered. I’d never put her at risk. I slide open the bedside table drawer and fish out a foil square. I’m not even sure why I have these since the only action I’ve seen in months is fire action, but thank Christ anyhow. Her eyes follow my hands as I tear open the package and roll the latex down.
“Come on back?” I manage to make it a fucking question. Unless I miss my guess, my Sarah Jo likes being the one in charge, and I can work with that tonight. I lie back, head on the pillows. Besides, damned if it isn’t sexy, waiting for her to ravish me. I can certainly let her take charge once in a while. Her smile echoes mine, so game on.
She straddles me, cradling my dick right where he wants to be in the hot, wet valley between her thighs. When she leans forward to kiss me again, I slip inside her hot, sweet slit just the tiniest amount. She gasps. I groan. It’s the fucking best symphony ever, but we’re playing allegro when I’d planned on lento. I’ll just have to save the slow, long ride for later. We’ve got hours before the sun comes up and the camp gets busy.
Hot and fast now.
Slow and sweet later.
Her kiss grows hotter, more desperate, her mouth devouring mine as her tongue sweeps inside. I cup her breasts, thumbing the rosy tips. She returns the favor, her fingers finding my nipples and pinching erotically. She gives as good as she gets, my Sarah Jo.
She tears her mouth from mine. “You like that?”
Fuck yes, I do.
“Just as much as you like my touching those pretty breasts.”
“So we’re square.” Smiling impishly, she lifts up, sinks down, and does her best to take goddamned all of me in one fast move. Uh-uh. She doesn’t get to rush the ending. Putting my hands on her hips, I control her descent, matching it with my ascent, pushing in, giving her what we both want.
If it were possible to fuck ourselves to death, we’d be giving it a fair shot. The bed creaks, protesting each move we make. She takes me, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she works herself on my dick like it’s her own personal toy. And I… lose it. Lose control, lose myself in the hot, sweet wildness that is Sarah Jo. She rides me like a rodeo queen, rising up fast and slamming down hard. She drives me out of my mind, and she knows it. She watches me fiercely, gauging my pleasure. I’d bet my last dollar my Sarah Jo knows exactly how close I am to coming. That’s good, I have no complaints, but I’m not the only one in this bed, am I? This has to be even better for her. So I take control, flipping her over and pinning her to the bed beneath me.
I slam into her, long, luxurious, powerful strokes, seating myself deep inside her body. She’s small, I’m large, but somehow we fit together just right. She whimpers, fingers clutching at my shoulders, leaving red crescents.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she whisper-yells into my ear, biting down hard on the lobe. I grunt and hammer into her as her hips push up against mine, seeking an even deeper penetration, and I grab her ass with both hands and lift her. Stroke deeper and slower, then pull back and drive inside her again.
Yeah. Right there. I adjust and seat myself again, drinking in her little groans and breathy whimpers. Her fingers push and pull as she strives for the climax hovering just out of reach.
Dropping a hand between us, I find her clit and pinch.
“Let go for me, honey.” My next stroke forces the palm of my hand hard against the top of her pussy and she stiffens, legs quivering. Her body comes around mine, and that’s my green light. I go over the edge right behind.
11
PICK
Two hours after she bangs me into happy oblivion, Sarah Jo sneaks away. Or attempts to. Since we fell asleep naked and tangled up together, she’s facing a logistical challenge if she wants to make a getaway, and clearly she doesn’t want to go panty-less. After she wriggles out from beneath my arm, she sort of ninja-crawls across the floor, sweeping around for her clothes. I’d like to point out that some shit gets easier if you turn the lights on, but Sarah Jo’s a big fan of hiding. She might actually have a coronary if I shone a light anywhere near her. So I enjoy the show she’s giving me. Fucking sucks she’s about to cover up that fantastic ass, although not as much as her need to leave me alone and in the dark does. I consider letting her know I’m awake and that she doesn’t need to sneak.
Yeah. Don’t think that would go well, and I won’t stop her if she wants to leave. I’m not fooling myself, either. Sarah Jo’s not worried about the rest of the camp learning that we’ve hooked up. Sure, we’ll come in for some teasing, but the Rogues won’t push too far. Not once I make it clear that Sarah Jo’s feelings matter.
And when the fuck did that happen? She invited herself over. We should be firmly in hook up territory, and her leaving shouldn’t come as any kind of surprise. I’ve been pretending I’m down with whatever she wants, but the truth is that I’d like more. I’m ready to all Oliver Twist on her cute ass and ask for some more, please. And it’s not just the sex, although she’s amazing and I’d never want to go without sex. It’s that she matters to me. You know how you hit the grocery and you get flour, eggs, and a bag of other crap that you line up on the kitchen counter? By themselves, that shit’s just groceries. Mix it all together, however, and you’ve got cake and that’s something out of the ordinary. Sarah Jo’s my triple-layer fudge, my red velvet goodness, a cupcake with mile-high frosting and a hell of a lot of substance underneath all that sweet. I
like her. Okay. Fuck that. I more than like her. She’s snuck up on my heart, and boom, there she is, front and center in everything I’m doing and thinking.
This is not a great state of events seeing as how she clearly doesn’t feel the same way. My big clue? The way she’s sneaking out of my place before the sun comes up and I can get a cup of coffee into her because she doesn’t want to say anything. Good morning is apparently too complicated for her, which is too damned bad. I have plenty of things to say to her.
She steals my T-shirt and shimmies into her shorts bare-assed. There’s some muttering, a jingle of keys, and then the door opens with a quiet snick; a flash of night sky fading fast into dawn, and she’s gone.
“Bye,” I say to the empty RV.
Fucking sucks. I roll over and punch the pillow.
I’ve never been in a hurry to settle down or marry up—but I’ve generally avoided one-night stands, too. I’ve never been a fan of sticking my dick anywhere with frequent flyer miles because I’m a special fucking snowflake about feeling special. I like my girl to know who I am, and I like to know her. If you can’t have a conversation with someone wearing clothes, how are you gonna do any better naked? So maybe I haven’t always had love, but I’ve definitely had like. Nothing about Sarah Jo screams permanent or keep me. She’s a temporary fire camp hire who’s made her intentions of moving on after the summer all too clear. So if quickie sex isn’t what I want—and my dick points out that parts of us are way okay with it—Sarah Jo should have been off-limits. Over and done with. No thinking about her, pining after her, or trying to get her into bed. I can’t have it in my mind that it’ll happen again.
Yeah. Right.
Non-naked talking isn’t on Sarah Jo’s to do list. We won’t be having long conversations about our favorite fucking movies or taking romantic walks by the lake. Not that that’s all bad because a mountain lake is freezing cold even in July, and I like my balls non-shriveled, thank you very much. No talking. No getting to know her. No anything. But some things don’t need words. Have you ever noticed that? So while I wait for her to come round and open up, I’ll just have to keep an eye out and watch over her some. And if that sounds stalkerish, just give me credit for having good intentions. Just watching her is a joy. Her laugh lights up a room. And trouble is definitely riding her ass.
