Wait With Me

by Amy Daws

  “I don’t know about this, Miles,” I whine, cranking the handle and reeling the line in inch by nerve-wracking inch.

  He grabs the fishing net behind us and shuffles down the boulder to get closer to the water. He looks up and gives me a thumbs up. “You’re doing great! You look so fucking hot!”

  “Really?” I smile a little, then frown at how shallow that is to make me happy at this moment. I need to read more literature.

  My face contorts when the end of my line pops out of the water at last. “Are you kidding me?”

  Miles’s raucous laughter echoes off the fucking mountains as he leans out to scoop my catch into the net. “Babe, you did it! You caught something!”

  He pulls my catch up onto the rock, and he’s laughing so hard, he can’t speak. He keeps starting a sentence and then stopping, his body buckling over with hysterics.

  I’m not laughing.

  My tone is flat when I say exactly what he’s trying to say. “I caught a fucking bicycle tire.”

  He’s roaring now, dropping down on his haunches and covering his eyes with his hands.

  I’m glad he’s having such a great time because I am pissed. Really frickin’ pissed. “A tire? What the hell, Colorado? Way to keep it classy!” I shout to no one in particular. “God, I thought this was some great outdoors experience, and I seriously just reeled in a lousy old tire. My hands hurt!”

  My last comment sets Miles off again, and I start to worry about him getting enough oxygen during his fit down there. Finally, he swipes tears away from his eyes. “Babe, how can you not see the irony of this moment? It’s a tire! You’re a smut writer who writes in a Tire Depot. This is fucking kismet.”

  Well, when he puts it like that, I can’t help but see a little silver lining. I set my pole on the ground and move down the boulder to inspect my catch. I look up at Miles and ask, “Think I can mount this in my new office?”

  He nods and smiles. “Fucking right, you can. I’ll help.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me about this new book you’re writing that requires all this painstaking research?” I ask Mercedes as I scrape away the remnants of our burgers on the grate over the fire.

  It’s dark out now, the night air full of the sounds of nature. Crickets chirping, owls hooting. The wind rustling the trees in the distance. Occasionally, you can hear the gentle waves lapping on the shore of the lake. And with the way the wind is blowing, I can’t even hear the other campers at their sites, so I get the illusion of complete and total privacy. All-in-all, a perfect day off work.

  Mercedes and I went camping.

  And fuck me, it was fun. She’s got a great attitude about pretty much everything. She even tried to bait her own hook at one point. She failed, but at least, she tried. We had some lunch, then went for a hike and worked up a sweat. Then we worked up another sweat back in the tent. We napped after that, and honestly, it was just one of those perfect summer days that you never want to end.

  But looking at her in the lawn chair next to me, her red hair out of her braids, face glowing in the campfire light, cold beer in her hand, full moon above—I think the nighttime is shaping up pretty perfectly as well.

  “It’s about a mechanic,” she answers finally.

  “Your book is about a mechanic?” I ask, my eyes wide with total disbelief. “You’re fucking with me.”

  She shakes her head. “Nope. The idea just sort of hit me.”

  “When did it hit you exactly?” I ask, taking a sip of my beer while blatantly baiting her. She blushes, full-on blushes, and I feel a strong desire to pull her onto my lap just to feel the weight of her on top of me. “Tell me,” I urge.

  She rolls her eyes. “I, um, was maybe ogling at you in the shop one day.” She covers her face with her hands and pulls her plaid shirt up over her cheeks to hide her mortification.

  “Which day?”

  She shrugs. “It was before you and I started…friends with benefitting. You looked so hot and sweaty, and suddenly, this character exploded in my head, and before I knew it, I had outlined a new story.” She pins me with nervous eyes.

  “So it’s about me?” I ask, brows furrowed cautiously.

  “No.” She scoffs. “It’s just about a mechanic. Get over yourself. Not everything in my life is about you, Miles.”

  I chuckle at her eye roll but feel a sense of relief at her reply. “It’s going to be about a kinky mechanic. I like it.”

  “Actually, it’s not going to be heavy erotica like my Bed ‘n Breakfast series.”

  My brows lift. “No?”

  She shrugs. “No. I mean, there’s still going to be sex, lots of sex, but it will be sweeter sex. Like, maybe I won’t write anal in this book.”

  I mock gasp. “How will you handle that?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’ll probably still write it, but I’ll give it to my readers as bonus content or something.”

  I chuckle at that idea. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do something a little bit different.”

  “Okay, enough about me,” she states, shaking her hair out. “Let’s play a game.”

  “Like what?” I ask, looking around. “I didn’t bring any cards.”

  She rolls her eyes and props her head on her hands. “Miles, we don’t need cards to play Truth or Dare.”

  I sit back in my chair and take a drink of my beer. “Who goes first?”

  “Me, of course. I’m the guest, and this is all still in the interest of research, so…Truth or Dare?”

  I exhale heavily. “Truth.”

  She jerks back, seemingly surprised by my selection. She taps her finger to her lips and says, “Okay, do you ever get horny in the garage at Tire Depot?”

  Her question has me barking out a laugh. “What?”

  She smiles a sly smile. “You know, are you ever working on a customer’s car and your hands get really dirty and you’re really digging into a repair, and you pop a boner?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “I’m afraid not.”

  She looks dejected.

  “But classic car work, on the other hand…” My voice trails off as her eyes light up. With a chuckle, I add, “If it’s a classic car and I’m elbows deep in it, and I connect two pieces, and someone is behind the wheel, and I tell them to try to start it…and an old car that hasn’t run in fucking decades suddenly roars to life? Then hell yes, my dick totally gets hard.”

  “Ha-ha! I knew it! Perverts attract perverts. My writing makes me horny way too much.”

  I laugh at her and say, “Truth or Dare?”

  “Dare,” she replies instantly.

  I quirk a brow. “Oh, someone has secrets they want to keep in the dark. Interesting.”

  Her face seems to flush, even in the firelight.

  But I decide we’ve talked enough for one night. “Okay, I dare you to go skinny dipping in the lake.”

  Her brows shoot up into her hairline. “The lake that birthed my blessed tire? No way! Who knows what the hell else is in that thing?”

  I shake my head. “I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

  “Oh, and you would,” she grumbles back.

  “I’ve swum in that lake before. It’s not disgusting. One little bicycle tire doesn’t change my opinion on its cleanliness.”

  She pouts. “But it’s probably going to be cold.”

  I shrug. “It’s fine. I knew you wouldn’t do it. You’re all talk, no action.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep,” I reply, pinning my eyes to her.

  “Need I remind you who’s been sneaking into Tire Depot for weeks on end now?”

  I scoff. “You call that dangerous?”

  “I’m consuming those complimentary beverages without a service, Miles.” She waggles her head back and forth with some serious sass. “That’s basically just as bad as thieving.”

  I laugh at her choice of words, then narrow my eyes and reply through clenched teeth, “Such a cold, hard criminal.”

  She narrows
her eyes back at me, clearly not enjoying my sarcasm. “Fine, I’ll do it, but you have to do it with me.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because I’ll be naked,” she replies, taking her shirt off and flinging it at me. When the fabric falls down from my face, I see the complete outline of her nipple through the sheer pink bra she has on.

  When I see my hickey, my dick jumps to life. “Fair point.”

  I stand, and we both make our way down the path toward the water to our earlier fishing spot on the boulder. It’s a perfect jumping-off point.

  Mercedes takes a deep breath in and ditches her shorts and flip-flops, kicking them off behind her, her arms crossed in front of herself for warmth as she stands before me, slightly hunched in a matching pink panty set.

  I reach back and yank my shirt off over my head and toss it over by her shorts. She eyes me brazenly and waggles her brows at my package. “Jeans too, buster.”

  “Buster,” I mimic her word with a shake of my head and push the denim down off my legs and kick it off along with my shoes.

  She reaches back and unclasps her bra, flinging it over with the rest of our stuff. She’s no longer hunched and hiding now, though. She’s standing proud and poised, perfectly at ease with herself as she bends over and slides her panties off.

  When she rights herself, my jaw is slack. The moonlight, the sound of the water, and the view of her completely naked, red hair blowing in the night breeze…it’s too much. It’s too sexy. It’s fucking dream-worthy.

  “Come on now. We’ve come this far,” she says, pointing down at my boxers.

  Mindlessly, I push them down, my eyes still completely locked on her.

  She glances down. “Is that going to hurt when you jump in the water?”

  I shake my head. “Not if you hold it.”

  She laughs, and Jesus Christ, she actually gets more beautiful at this moment. And without a look back, she runs and jumps off the boulder and into the water.

  No graceful dive.

  No demure leap.

  She fucking cannonballs like the original, magnetic, real girl she is.

  I dive in after her and take three hard strokes to get to her. I pull her into my arms, her hard nipples brushing against my chest as she wraps her legs tightly around my hips.

  She folds her hands behind my neck and kisses me sweetly, giving me just a tiny sample of her tongue as I tread water and turn us in circles. She pulls back with a smile and lets go of my shoulders as she stretches her upper body backward to float. Her arms are fanned out wide. Her bare, beautiful breasts shiny in the moonlight. She’s stunning.

  My bare dick is hard and pushed up between us, but I’m not thinking about fucking her right now. All I’m thinking about is how quickly I’m liking this girl. About how confusing these feelings are for me because even though she’s so cool and awesome and sexy and fun, I still don’t know if I’m ready for more. My heart and my head are at complete odds with each other, and I don’t know which one knows best.

  My heart says, yes, take more, take a lot more. She’s perfect!

  But my head says, as soon as you do, everything will change, and you’ll be inviting drama right back into your life. Just like before.

  “Mercedes,” I husk her name, and her head lifts up from the water, all her strands slicked back perfectly, her blue eyes wide and curious. “Do you feel like—”

  “Did you feel that?” she asks, her face bending in a weird, pained way.

  “Feel what?” I ask, hopeful that maybe she’s having the same confusing thoughts as I am, and we can talk them out together.

  And then the floodgates open.

  Literally, it starts pouring rain on us.

  “Oh my God, that rain is freezing!” she squeals, unwrapping her legs from me and sinking down into the water as deep as she can so only her face is out.

  “No shit.” I squint, looking up at the sky. “I never saw rain in the forecast.”

  “Should we just stay in the water until it passes?” she shouts, because the downpour on the lake water is deafening now.

  A flash of lightning illuminates us both in the darkness, and I shake my head. “Bad idea. We gotta get out.”

  She nods, and we both swim to the shore and pad carefully up the rocks to our soaking wet clothes.

  She struggles with her soaked clothes, then shouts, “Fuck it, let’s make a run for it. No one will be walking out in this.”

  I nod and place my hand on the small of her back to guide her through the trees and back to the trail we walked down on. It’s a muddy, slippery mess, but we manage to make it back to our tent without taking a tumble, thank fuck. That would have hurt, being butt-ass naked.

  We rush inside the tent, and the rain is still deafening as it pounds against the thin nylon. But we’re kneeling in front of each other so close, we can hear our ragged breaths, heavy and labored from our climb. Adrenaline coursing through our bodies from the storm outside.

  It’s overwhelming in the smallness of the tent. It takes up all the air and space and funnels in tightly around us like a spring-loaded coil, ready to explode.

  Our eyes meet, and just as there’s a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning, we slam into each other, like two storm clouds colliding in the starless sky.

  My arms wind around her waist, and I kiss her with my tongue as deep as she can take. Her hands are all over me—on my face, my arms, my head, my back. She can’t get enough. It’s like she’s trying to feel every square inch of my body, and I want to give it all to her.

  We’re a mess of rain, mud, and lake water, but it doesn’t stop me from falling back onto the mattress pad and taking her with me. Her thighs are shaking under my hands as they spread over the top of me. My red, throbbing cock bulges up between us as I put my hands on her ass and squeeze her to me.

  “Take me inside you, babe,” I state, voice ragged, nearly lost in the rain. “Take me as deep as you can.”

  She nods and looks over in the dark at the tipped over box of condoms we left out this afternoon. She shakily grabs one and opens it up to roll it down my length.

  Rising up on her knees, she positions me perfectly before dropping down and impaling herself in one, glorious motion. My fingers bite into her hips, and she uses my wrists for balance as she grinds into me, waiting for her body to adjust to the fullness.

  She rears back and slams down again, crying my name as she throws her head up to the sky.

  It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

  Her wet hair and naked body, her arched back and flushed skin. It’s all more beautiful than the lake and the mountains. The trees and the moon. Mercedes riding me is more beautiful than pretty much anything I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  You know that saying, rode hard and put away wet? Well, that’s me when I wake up the next morning to birds chirping and the sun shining. The tent is about half as warm as usual because I don’t have a huge hulk of a man sleeping next to me. But I can hear Miles outside, making the noises of breakfast, so obviously he’s not hemorrhaging blood from chewing his arm off or something.

  That thought makes me giggle, so I quickly tuck my head under the blanket and bite back a squeal of excitement.

  Yesterday was amazing. Last night was even more so. The way Miles looked at me when we closed ourselves inside this tent and away from the storm outside.

  We were the motherfucking storm.

  We were thunder and lightning, and we created the most beautiful swirl of passion I’ve ever experienced with a man.

  Like I’m talking three orgasms.

  To top off an already perfect day, we cuddled. We cuddled good. We stayed completely naked and let the delicious skin-on-skin comfort lull us into the best sleep of my life. It felt like I was meant to fit on his chest and his big arm was meant to wrap around me and keep me warm. It was magic.

  This camping trip is shaping up even better than I could have hoped for. In fact, I think I might actually like camping!
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  I mean, sure, Miles still doesn’t know my real name yet. And yes, technically, my ex-boyfriend still lives with me and is coming back eventually, and Miles has made it crystal clear that he has issues with jealousy.

  But beyond all of that, he knows what’s important. He knows what I’m passionate about. He knows how I take my coffee and how to tease me. He knows where my G-spot is, that’s for damn sure! Dryston never found that even with explicit directions.

  Surely, the whole different first name thing is a minor detail that won’t have much relevance when I do, in fact, tell him. I mean, we’re genuinely connecting, so surely, that’s what’s most important. Not what first name he calls me.

  I quickly dress in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, opting to let my air-dried hair run wild. I slip out of the tent and note that Miles has packed up a lot of our stuff already and loaded it into the back end of his pickup.

  “Good morning,” I say brightly as he flips a couple of eggs on a portable skillet.

  “Morning,” he replies with a shy kind of smile, almost as if he can’t make eye contact with me.

  Is he feeling weird about last night? God, if he is, that could be so bad. I need to defuse the situation. I need to be casual Mercedes again, so he doesn’t think I’m like falling in love with him or something.

  I walk over to where he’s working on the picnic table and grab his arm tightly. “Whew! It’s not a prosthetic. He didn’t have to chew it off, folks!” I shout to no one in particular.

  He shakes his head, and his shyness falls away instantly. “Still very much intact. But I didn’t bring any pancake mix, so don’t read into that, all right?”

  I smile and nod, then look around with a big stretch. “You’ve been busy this morning.”

  He looks back over his shoulder at his truck. “Yeah, it’s going to be a muddy mess all over today. I figured we may as well leave early.”

  I nod and pull my lip into my mouth, feeling a bit of disappointment over that. But since I need to play it cool, I reply, “Well, I’m starving. How can I help?”