On Location

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On Location Page 23

by Sarah Echavarre Smith


  “Alia, did he say those exact words to you? He said he wasn’t interested in pursuing something serious with you?”

  I let out a breath, annoyed at how she’s still stuck on this. “After talking to his nephew, he said he was glad to be on his own. He said he was glad that he only had to worry about himself and no one else.”

  Haley shakes her head. “I don’t think that means what you think it means. To me, it sounded like he was glad he didn’t have a kid to worry about. I really don’t think he meant you. You should tell him how you feel.”

  “Well, I think that it’s better to just keep things the way that they are between us—casual and uncomplicated—rather than ruin the last week and a half of shooting with uncomfortable conversations about our feelings and expectations.”

  “It’s like I’m in high school all over again,” Haley mutters. “The way you guys communicate—two adults in their thirties—is fucking adolescent.”

  “I’m scared, Haley,” I quietly admit. “It makes this feel too real. And if this is real, that means we could hurt each other. It means I could get my heart broken. I don’t want that ever again.”

  Haley sighs before turning to look at me. “I get it. I really do. But is this how you want to live your life? Too scared to share your feelings with the guy you care about?”

  I’m kicking around her words in my mind as she pulls into the entrance of the park and stops by the park ranger’s station to show our credentials. Now that we’re in Capitol Reef, we’re officially on the clock and need to be focused for the shoot. I shove aside all relationship-related thoughts as we drive along the main road in the park to our scheduled destination. We make it to a lookout point that offers a sweeping view of the major attraction of the park: the Waterpocket Fold, a sixty-five-million-year-old geological landform that looks like a wrinkle in Earth’s surface. It runs for almost one hundred miles and creates a dramatic landscape of rugged cliffs, canyons, natural bridges, and arches.

  When Haley groans about her growling stomach, I open the glove box and pull out a packet of gluten-free rice crackers along with a fruit-and-nut bar.

  “That’s part of my job. To keep you from getting hangry whenever we’re on the same shoot.”

  Haley happily accepts the bag and bar. I start to turn to open the door, but her hand on my arm causes me to turn back to her.

  “And it’s my job as your best friend to give it to you straight. You always do the same for me, whether I’m venting about guys or family or work. It’s why you’re my best friend.”

  “I know,” I say quietly.

  “Just think about what I said, okay?”

  I nod, thankful to have a best friend who never sugarcoats. Her honesty is rooted in how much she cares about me.

  We get out of the car just as everyone else pulls up behind us. When they start unloading equipment, I catch a glimpse of Drew hopping out of his truck and walking toward the back. Rylan runs over to him and hands him a backpack containing all the clothes he’s set to wear for today’s shoot. He smiles a thanks at her and sheds the light puffer jacket he’s wearing before unzipping the bag and setting it in the bed of the truck to unpack it.

  That movement of him pulling off an item of his clothing captures my attention. Yeah, it’s shallow to focus on just the physical aspect of Drew, but it’s what I need to do in order to keep things in perspective. And if I can concentrate on strictly the physical, I won’t get caught up in emotions so much.

  I take a breath and walk over, tablet in hand, to go over the shot list with him.

  He slips off his shirt and raises an eyebrow at me. “How do I look?”

  “Ridiculously hot. Like always.” I keep my tone casual and cool.

  “Why do I have the feeling that if you were the one dressing me today I wouldn’t be wearing very much?” He pulls a long-sleeved hiking shirt from the pack and slides it over his head.

  I bite my lip and try not to laugh. “Because you know me too well. And I think I’ve made it very, very clear just how much I enjoy seeing you naked.”

  He leans down to grab one of the boots from the pack, skimming the shell of my ear with the stubble of his beard for a split second. “Almost as much as I enjoy seeing you naked, Dunn.”

  He straightens back up to his full height and checks the size of the boots before bending back over to slip them on. This time, I let myself giggle.

  I go over the schedule for today with Drew, then check the time. “Blaine hasn’t shown up yet. No surprise there.”

  Drew makes a scoffing noise as he pulls on a puffer vest.

  “But there’s no telling if and when he’ll arrive. So if he does, let’s just go with the same excuse we’ve used before. We’ll tell him you’re demonstrating the shots for him, and then we’ll film him like usual. But still, I want to get in as many shots with you as possible.”

  “Got it. I’m ready.” Drew holds his arms out and does a spin. “How do I look?”

  “Like you have to ask.”

  “Aww, shucks, Dunn.” A sly grin tugs at Drew’s lips.

  “It’s exactly like you said,” I say, my voice low and my eyes still directed at the tablet. If I’m going to keep this conversation in the realm of hot and heavy, we need to at least appear professional if anyone happens to look over. “I always, always prefer you with your clothes off.”

  I glance at him, wondering if he notices the fire in my eyes. I can feel it in every cell of my body as I speak to him.

  Even though we only connect our stares for just a couple of seconds, I can tell just how well I’ve set him off. A small smile appears on his face; then he leans over, pretending to squint at the tablet screen.

  “I think we need to do something about that, Dunn. Tonight.”

  “Does that mean if I text you later tonight when everyone else is asleep in the condo, you’ll answer? And be up for what I want?” The rasp in my voice makes it sound like I’m pleading.

  “I’ll have my phone on me the entire night. I’d better hear from you.”

  The low growl of his words sticks with me long after he walks off to Wyatt to get mic’d up for the shoot. I’m left buzzing with anticipation for all the naked things we’re going to get up to.

  * * *

  • • •

  When I wake up in my bedroom of the condo, everything is pitch-black. For a moment, I’m in that confused, foggy-headed space where you’ve napped for way too long and forget where you are.

  I sit up and check the clock on my nightstand. It’s almost midnight.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself.

  Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, I let out a soft groan. The entire condo is quiet—that means everyone’s asleep. That also means I slept through my rendezvous with Drew.

  I swipe my phone from the nightstand and see that two hours ago I missed four texts from Drew.

  Drew: Just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight.

  Drew: I’ll head to my room and just wait for your message then.

  Drew: My guess is that you fell asleep.

  There’s a sad emoji at the end, then another text.

  Drew: Just kidding. You must be exhausted. Sleep well.

  He ends that text with a kissing emoji. It makes my heart flutter. I quickly text him an apology and an explanation.

  Me: I’m sooo sorry! I only meant to nap for an hour when we came home from the shoot today . . . and four hours later here I am texting you. Can I make it up to you?

  I rub my face with my hands, wondering what I’ll do now. There’s no way I can fall back to sleep after a nap like that.

  I glance at my phone sitting on the bedspread. Drew is probably fast asleep now too. Maybe I should just hop in the shower and catch up on emails, or—

  My phone buzzes.

  Drew: Don’t worry. Glad you got som
e sleep. You’ve been working so hard.

  Me: Sorry if I woke you up.

  Drew: You don’t ever have to be sorry about waking me. You’re the only person I want waking me up right now. Or ever.

  I bite my lip, my skin heating at just how much his reply makes me glow.

  I try to think of a cool response, but he replies first.

  Drew: Are you planning to go back to sleep?

  Me: I don’t think I can . . . That nap screwed up my sleep schedule for the night I’m afraid.

  Me: Would you be up for meeting up now? I know it’s late . . .

  Drew replies with a gif that’s a cartoon mouse nodding excitedly.

  Drew: Meet me at the hot tub in the center of the condo complex in ten.

  Me: ???

  Me: It’s the middle of the night.

  Drew: And?

  Me: You want to go swimming at midnight? When the hot tub is closed?

  Drew: No, I don’t want to go swimming

  My stomach flips.

  Me: Oh . . . I see

  Me: I don’t want to wake everyone.

  Drew: Then be extra quiet

  Drew: Come on, Dunn. Didn’t you ever sneak out when you were a teenager to meet up with your high school boyfriend?

  Me: Possibly . . .

  Drew: Everyone’s dead asleep. I can hear Wyatt snoring through my wall. If we’re quiet when we slip out, we’ll be fine.

  Drew: I’m not going to be able to sleep either with the thought of you awake in your bed, in those sexy tiny shorts you wear to sleep. Let’s do something about it.

  Drew: Pretend I’m your high school boyfriend. Do it for old time’s sake

  I bite my lip as I grin, my thumb hovering over my screen while I think about what he’s asking me to do. A bit of quiet, sneaky hot-tub time with Drew sounds a million times better than lying in bed battling restlessness the whole night.

  Biting my lip, I take a breath and reply.

  Me: You’ve convinced me. Meet you there in 10.

  * * *

  • • •

  I stand at the edge of the hot tub, wrapped in a towel, gazing down at the water. We agreed that I would slip out of the condo rental first, then quietly make my way to the hot tub. Drew would follow a couple of minutes later.

  In the dark, even without the lights on, the water glows blue. I rub my hand against my neck, thankful for the higher temperatures southern Utah is experiencing now that it’s late April.

  I crouch down and touch the water, smiling at how warm it feels. I look up and can barely make out the stack of lounge chairs in the corner. Behind me I hear the soft shuffle of footsteps.

  My heart races even though I know it’s Drew.

  I turn around and see his tall, broad figure walking toward me with his phone on flashlight mode in hand. In his other hand is a towel.

  Now that he’s close, I can see he’s smiling.

  “You came,” he says softly.

  “I would never ditch you.”

  Thanks to the glow of his phone, I get a decent view of his body. He’s wearing these swim trunks that hang low on his hips. The shadows from the harsh glow of his phone create a million defined lines. My eyes scan above, and I see the hard planes of his stomach and chest. My mouth waters.

  “Look at those lines.” And then I cup my hands over my cheeks at what a dork I sound like. “I mean, you look nice.”

  He lets out a soft chuckle. Then he drops his towel and reaches for me, then slowly peels the towel away before tossing it on the pile.

  He pulls me against him, his hand with the phone slowly moving along the length of my body.

  “You’ve got some damn fine lines of your own.”

  Gripping his shoulders, I blush. “I don’t know about that.”

  His hand gives my waist a gentle squeeze before he runs his fingers along my hips; then he cups my ass cheek.

  “I’m a pretty big fan of these lines, Alia.”

  “Those aren’t lines,” I whisper, my breath ragged. “Those are curves.”

  He skims my mouth with his. “Call them whatever the hell you want. They’re hot.”

  I lean up, gently pressing my mouth against his in a light, teasing kiss. His tongue slips in my mouth and I moan softly, reminding myself that I need to be as quiet as possible.

  He steps back, his hand falling away from me. He turns the light off on his phone before dropping it on top of the towels. With my eyes finally adjusting to the darkness, I observe him as he quickly loosens the drawstring on his trunks and slips them off. A grin splits my face.

  “How do you feel about skinny-dipping?” he says, pulling me against him once more.

  Closing my eyes, I savor the warmth of his skin against mine. “Is this what you got up to when you snuck out of the house in high school?”

  “I wish.”

  I chuckle softly; then I tug off my top and bottom. “I’m definitely all for being naked in the water with you.”

  He takes me by the hand and guides me to the edge of the hot tub, where there’s a metal railing along the steps.

  I grip my other hand on his shoulder as I follow him into the water. The sudden wetness draws a soft shudder from me.

  “Here.” He steps to the middle, careful to move slowly to keep splashing to a minimum.

  Then he turns around and pulls me against him once more. Immediately the warmth from his naked skin on mine has me hot all over.

  Now that I’m this close to him, I can make out his face in the darkness just fine. His chest heaves slightly with a breath. And then I feel him harden against me.

  He smirks down at me. “Is this okay?”

  “Very.”

  I slide my palms slowly up his torso and rest them at his shoulders. I can just make out his eye color in the surrounding pitch blackness.

  “So you got me all the way out here,” I say, my voice a hair above a whisper. “What did you have in mind?”

  His smirk doesn’t budge, even when he raises his eyebrow. “This.”

  His mouth lands on the side of my neck, and my mouth falls open. Thankfully I remember that I need to be quiet, so all that falls out of me is a hot, silent breath. I shiver at the feel of his hot tongue teasing that spot right above my shoulder.

  “Drew . . .” I whisper-groan, my eyes fluttering at the heavenly feel. It’s like a pleasurable, orgasmic, ticklish feeling.

  “Yeah?” he says quietly, his mouth on my skin.

  Again my brain short-circuits the longer his tongue plays along that patch of skin. Eyes rolling to the back of my head, I let out a soft moan and run my fingers through his hair.

  He pulls his tongue away but keeps his mouth against my neck. “This seems to be a very important spot on your body.”

  I yank his head back and plant my mouth against his, leading him in a hungry kiss. He responds with a low moan and a smile I can feel against my mouth. His hands settle on my waist while I grip his bearded cheeks in my hands.

  My head spins trying to process all the sensations around me. His hot skin against my hot skin, the smell of spice from his cologne, the taste of his tongue in my mouth. The hard feel of his muscle against the softness of my hands. How silky and thick his hair is.

  We stay in that rapid kissing rhythm, our hands flying everywhere, for what feels like minutes. And then we break apart to catch our breaths. Before I can say anything—before I can think of anything to even say—Drew’s mouth lands back on the side of my neck; then he glides a hand below the water.

  I gasp once more when he makes contact with my most sensitive spot.

  “Shh,” he whispers through a chuckle.

  I nod and clamp my mouth shut. But the circles he’s making with his fingers against me threaten my ability to keep silent. Because Drew’s magic touch and eve
n more magical rhythm are going to break me.

  I’ve never been much of a fan of manual stimulation with other men. But Drew? Drew is a master tradesman with his hands. He moves confidently and quickly. His touch is firm but gentle. He keeps a steady rhythm that has me clawing at him and struggling to keep my voice contained to my throat. Right now his hand is delivering untold amounts of pleasure through my body.

  The heat building between my legs slowly spreads to my core, then my arms and fingers and toes.

  When my chest feels like it’s on fire, I open my eyes. Drew’s gaze is locked on me. Even in the darkness, I can see that his eyes are dilated and glazed over. His jaw is set tight. I shiver at his carnal expression. He seems to like watching me get all hot and bothered. After a minute, a muscle in the side of his jaw twitches.

  “God, you’re sexy,” he mutters.

  I can’t help but chuckle softly, my eyes rolling back, my head falling back.

  He stops circling, then presses his palm against me. The change in sensation is a delicious shock to my system.

  My head snaps up and I gasp. Then he starts those divine circles once more.

  My head lolls against his shoulder as the sensations intensify throughout my whole body.

  “We have to be quiet,” he whispers in my ear.

  I press a hand over my mouth to muffle myself.

  “Use my shoulder,” he growls softly.

  Two pants later, my mouth is on the meaty part of his shoulder. A soft, low moan sounds from his throat.

  “I love it when you do that,” he whispers.

  “Do you really?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Mouth open, I quietly pant against his hot, wet skin. “I just . . . I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You could never. Bite harder if you want.” He speaks in a growled whisper that sets my heart racing.

  His fingers pick up speed, and my legs go wobbly. If I were just standing on land while doing this, I’d crumble. But the water helps support me as my knees give.

  Through a silent gasp, I clamp down on Drew’s shoulder. He lets out a grunt, then a satisfied hum. The pressure between my legs builds and builds. Every nerve inside my body, every goose bump on my skin, goes haywire. One of my hands is tugging at the back of Drew’s head, where his hair is the thickest. My other hand is wrapped around his shoulder, clutching at that endless wall of skin and hard muscle and warmth.

 

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