by Lulu Pratt
I manage to make it through the front door, get in my rental car, and pull out, with the lights off, before turning onto the street, headed for the lake. I’m not even looking to see if Harper has gone. I can only hope that she has managed to leave. Might be the first time she’s ever pulled the sneak-out routine in her life, I think with a smirk.
Technically, it’s against the law to be at the lake after dark, there are signs posted outside of the parking lot saying that trespassers will be fined. I turn in anyway, and look around to make sure there aren’t any cops hanging out. Of course, it’s not the most popular night of the week for people to go skinny dipping, and anyway the teenagers who would be the most likely to go to the lake late at night are in school still.
I shut off the engine and get out of the car, and all I can do is wait. I have less than twelve hours before I have to be at the airport, and I can’t let things stay up in the air with her.
We both need to figure out what’s going on between us.
Just when I’m starting to think that I’m out of my mind, that she decided not to come, I see headlights. Harper’s car appears under the safety lamps scattered around the little parking area next to the lake. I walk over to her car and stand there. She gets out but doesn’t say anything. For a few minutes neither of us speaks. We’re just sort of staring at each other.
“So, what are we going to do, Harper?”
Harper isn’t in the black dress anymore, instead, she’s in a pair of cotton pants and a T-shirt, but I can’t shake the image of her in it from earlier in the night.
“Obviously we have to do something,” Harper says, and she makes a face.
“What do you want to do?” I ask her.
Harper raises an eyebrow. “It’s going to sound absolutely insane, but I keep thinking about you, and about us being interrupted by Mom, and how much of a jerk she was about things… and how much I wish we’d done more. Maybe we’d have a better idea about whether this could go anywhere.”
It’s like lighting a match and dropping it into dry tinder. Just the fact that Harper is thinking about me, about wanting me, is enough to bring every thought I’ve been trying to push out of my mind since we last had sex right up to the fore once again.
“You’re sure about that?” I feel the heat building up along my groin, but I know better than to make a move without making sure that Harper’s not messing with me.
“I’m sure I want to,” Harper says, looking at me.
I take her by the hand and steer her away from the parking lot, towards the lake itself, stopping just short of the shore. I wrap my arms around her and lean in, and Harper pushes herself up onto the balls of her feet to kiss me as I’m trying to kiss her back. I start off slow. I want to give her plenty of opportunity to tell me to stop, to change her mind, but eventually I can’t help myself anymore.
I pull her down onto the grass with me, and we’re going at it hot and heavy in moments, like we did in my parents’ bathroom. We’re touching each other everywhere, hands slipping up under each other’s clothes. All I can think about was how fucking good Harper felt and how much I’ve wanted more ever since then. Even when we were talking about how we weren’t ever going to do it again, even when we were arguing or talking about putting everything on hold between us.
I pull back from the kiss, and Harper’s on top of me, like she was in the bathroom, but we’re both still mostly clothed.
“Are we really going to do this?” I ask.
“We may not get another chance,” Harper points out, her voice breathless. I can see the way she’s flushed, the pink in her cheeks. Her nipples are straining at the fabric of her T-shirt, and I know now there’s no bra underneath it.
“God, I want you, Harper,” I say, guiding her hand down to my crotch.
She gives me a squeeze through my pants and the throbbing, fiery ache there intensifies into a mixture of pleasure and pain that makes it almost impossible to think.
“Then let’s do it,” Harper tells me.
“Only if you promise not to get pissed at me afterwards,” I counter.
Harper laughs.
“I will only be pissed if you got me all turned on like this only to back out of it,” she says.
I kiss her again and reach down to find the hem of her T-shirt, haul it up along her back and over her head. I’ve been thinking about Harper’s heavy, full tits almost nonstop for days, since I saw her naked, and even more since we had sex.
She peels off my shirt, and then somehow we’re down to nothing at all without me even knowing how it happened. I tumble Harper onto her back and cover her body with mine. I know I’ve reached the point of no return. Unless she tells me to stop, unless she doesn’t want it anymore, I can’t hold back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
HARPER POLSEN
I don’t know what I was expecting when I agreed to meet up with Zane at the lake, but as more and more of our clothes begin to come off, it doesn’t seem to matter what I was expecting, all that matters is that I want more. All I can think of is how much I want to feel Zane inside of me again, and to be able to really, truly take our time and enjoy it.
Zane’s lips shift down from my mouth and to my neck, and I shiver against him as he nips at the sensitive spot just under my jaw, where I can feel my pulse fluttering. From there he drops to my collarbones and my breasts. I reach down between us, groping until my fingers find the hot, hard length of his cock. I can’t help but giggle breathlessly as my hand wrapping around Zane’s erection makes him moan, one of my nipples caught between his lips.
He moves from one breast to the other, worshipping me with his mouth, sucking and licking until I’m so wet I can feel my fluids along my inner thighs. I start stroking him more confidently, thinking not for the first time about how amazing it is that he was able to fit inside of me at all. I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t been with more than a few guys, and Zane makes the rest of them seem small by comparison.
“God, you’re so hot, Harper,” Zane murmurs against my skin. I gasp as I feel his fingers sliding along my folds.
“Me? You. You’re hot,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice down.
I’m only barely aware of the fact that we’re technically in a public place, but I’m aware enough not to want to increase the risk of us getting caught.
Zane finds my clit by touch and begins to rub in tight little circles around the bead of nerves, and my hips move as if they’ve got a mind of their own, twisting and bucking to his touches.
We lie there for what seems like ages, kissing and touching and teasing each other until we’re dripping with sweat, until I’m soaking wet and my fingers are slick with Zane’s pre-cum.
“Ready for me?” Zane’s breath is burning hot against my skin, and it’s like I’ve been waiting for him to ask those words for hours. He slides two fingers slowly inside of me and I grab with my free hand at his shoulder, at his back, digging my fingernails in. It feels so good and at the same time it’s not enough.
“Of course I’m ready for you, you—” I bite my tongue, struggling to keep from screaming as Zane chuckles and slides his fingers out of me. I groan in frustration.
My insides churn with anticipation as he puts on a condom. But the next moment he pushes my legs wider and I feel the tip of his cock up against my mound, rubbing me slightly before he pushes slowly, oh so slowly, inside of me. My inner muscles flex around him in a spasm, my whole body hungry to feel him completely inside of me. Zane moans against my neck in reaction. He presses forward, letting me feel every inch of him sliding into me, filling me. I almost can’t breathe. It feels even better than it did the first time.
For a second neither of us move, instead holding absolutely still, and I can feel Zane’s cock twitching inside of me. I hear the harsh breaths against my ears as he struggles for a moment to keep from losing it, and I’m right there with him. I’m not a virgin, but I never imagined it could feel this good.
“Fuck, Harper. You feel so… fuc
king… amazing,” Zane says, as he slowly slides almost all the way out of me and then pushes back in, somehow managing to penetrate even deeper than he did the first time, or at least it feels that way.
We start moving together, slow at first and then gradually gaining speed. I can’t help but notice that we find each other’s rhythm right away, like we’re meant for this.
“You too,” I manage to get out as Zane reaches down between our bodies and his fingers slide along my folds just above where his cock is filling me, until he reaches my clitoris and begins stroking me in counterpoint to his thrusts.
It’s almost more than I can stand. I no longer care if we might get caught. It feels too good and the tension mounting, deep down in my hips like a rubber band stretching tighter and tighter, is overwhelming any sense of propriety I might have had.
I try to hold back, but between Zane’s fingers against my clit and the feeling of him inside me and everything else, it feels like it’s only minutes before I tumble over the edge, moaning against his chest as wave after wave of pleasure washes through me, making every muscle tense and relax in spasms that only seem to get more and more intense by the moment.
Zane keeps moving, and just as my climax seems to be coming to an end, I feel his whole body tense, feel his cock twitching inside of me even harder than before, and his cock pulses and throbs as he groans, thrusting hard and fast as he hits his climax. At once my orgasm intensifies again. My walls grip him tightly as I cling to him like my life depends on it, gasping and panting for breath between moans as we both give into it.
I don’t know how long we lie there on the grass recovering. It may be minutes or hours, but I don’t care.
Eventually, Zane pulls himself up to look down at me, and I can’t help but grin up at him. I feel so good all over, warm and relaxed in a way that I almost never get to feel, with the little bit of a dull ache that I love feeling because it’s related to that bone-deep relaxation.
I want to keep enjoying this delicious hazy warmth, but I know we have to come to some kind of conclusion, especially since, as I remember, Zane has to leave for base in less than nine hours.
“We should probably talk about what’s going on between us,” I say, and I hate myself for saying it.
“Better now than before,” Zane points out.
I laugh. I have to admit he’s right about that.
“So what, what is this? Between us? Are we going to hope to meet up whenever we’re both home and fool around like this, or is there something to it?” I try not to feel anxious about what Zane might say, and I don’t know what answer I’m actually dreading more.
“You said you thought I might be able to take New York,” Zane says, speaking slowly.
“Oh?” My heart beats faster and I feel like I’m holding my breath even though I know I’m not.
“I’ve become comfortable in the army. And yeah, I know I can get married there, but I don’t like the way I see serious relationships going on in there. Everyone’s always better off once they leave the service.”
I nod. I don’t really have anything to say to this, one way or another, I don’t know enough to have an opinion. “So what are you saying, then?”
Zane goes silent for a long moment and that dread wells up in the pit of my stomach once again. “I’m saying that I think I want to be out of the army, and I think, if you feel like I do right now, maybe I could try to see if I can find something in New York.”
For a second all I can do is stare at him. Is this really Zane? Does he mean it?
“You’d leave the army for me?” I both do and don’t want to believe it.
“I’d leave the army because I can, and because I want to see where this might go,” Zane says.
“Not specifically for me, though, right?” In my mind all I can see is how terrible it would be if Zane left the army to be with me, and then things didn’t work out between us for some reason, and it would be my fault if he lost years of a good career.
“Not specifically for you, but you inspired me and that’s a fact,” Zane says. He kisses me on the lips. “I can’t let the girl next door be braver than me, can I?”
I have to laugh at that. “What are we going to tell my mom? Or your dad?”
Zane shrugs. “I think for now, we tell them nothing,” he says.
“How’s that going to work?” I raise an eyebrow at the idea.
“We’ll both be so far away from our parents that it won’t matter what we’re doing to each other until the next time there’s a big family get-together, so I think we can hide this,” Zane says.
“And then… I guess, by the time that happens, we would already know if there’s something to it.” I say.
Zane nods. “That was my thinking. By the time it’s even an issue for anyone, we can either tell them we’re together, period, or that nothing really happened, and it’s none of their business,” he says.
He kisses me again, and I can tell the difference in it. I can feel his cock starting to harden again. Now that I’m recovered from my previous orgasm I have to admit that just lying there with my body pressed up against Zane’s is enough to make me want to go again, as many times as we can before we need to be back at our parents’ homes.
“How much time do we have?” Zane chuckles.
“I think we can fit in one or two more rounds. But this time you’re on top.” He tumbles over onto the grass and maneuvers me onto him and starts kissing me again — my lips, my jaw, my neck.
“That’s fair,” I say, leaning in for a kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ZANE LEWIS
FOUR MONTHS LATER
My head is killing me as I walk out of the gate and towards the flow of traffic through the terminal, looking around.
Where is she?
My parents expected me to come straight to them as soon as I accepted my discharge paperwork, but I told them I had a job interview to get to first, and they didn’t question it. They were too proud that I already had a potential job to worry about it that much.
It’s been months since I saw Harper in person, and I’m worried for a second that she might be running late, or something might have gone wrong in our plans at the last minute. As I make my way towards the baggage claim, I try to decide if it would be worth it to text her or call her to make sure she’s actually at the airport.
Just when I’m about to take my phone out of my pocket, I spot her. For a couple of seconds I stop mid-step and just stare at the girl I’ve flown so far to see, to be with. The girl I lied to my parents about, who lied to her parents about me. She looks just as hot as ever, dressed in nothing more than a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair pulled back out of her face.
Before I know it, I’m almost running to her, through the other people. It’s been hard on both of us, being in different time zones, trying to keep things going, figuring out what we’re both going to do, and all I’ve been able to think of for the last five hours has been how good it will feel to have Harper in my arms again.
I pick her up off her feet and pull her body up against mine and kiss her. It’s almost like we’ve never kissed before, but also somehow like we’ve done nothing but for the past four months. Harper makes a noise just as our lips connect, and she melts against me, her arms tightening around my shoulders, her tongue wriggling against mine, her lips on me like she’s been starving for weeks and wants to devour me, and I know I’m doing the same to her.
I finally get to the point where I can make myself put her down, make myself pull back from the kiss, and look at her for a second. Just kissing her has made me start to get hard. I can’t wait to get her alone.
“You took tomorrow off from work, right?”
Harper laughs, her cheeks taking on a cute pink flush at what I’m implying.
“I did, actually. Told them after the last minute rush I need a sick day for my mental health,” Harper tells me, finding my hand without even looking at it and slipping her fingers in between mine.
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“Good. Then we can spend all day just…” I give her a little look and give her hand a squeeze, and Harper’s blush goes darker while she looks away.
I smirk and start walking towards the baggage claim, pulling her a little closer to me. I don’t even really want to have to share her with the rest of the people watching us. After all the texts we’ve sent each other, after the pictures and the little thirty-second videos back and forth we’ve used to keep things hot between us, I’m almost ready to boil over.
“Let’s see if we can’t make it out of here without getting in trouble with airport security first,” Harper says, and I laugh again.
“I’ll flash my army creds and they’ll leave us alone. Nobody’s about to give too much trouble to a member of the military who’s finally out,” I tell her.
Harper rolls her eyes. “Oh! I meant to tell you before we get too involved in making up for lost time — I might have a job lead for you,” Harper says as we stop at the baggage carousel and wait for the luggage to start coming down.
Everything I own, except for what’s still at my parents’ place, is down to one big duffel bag. After being in the army for better than six years, I’m not exactly surprised by it, but Harper has been asking for weeks if I’m sure I don’t want her to go ahead and get things for me for the apartment.
It’s a risk, moving in together right away, and we both know it. But for the first few months, at least, assuming I don’t get a job right off the bat, I’m going to be spending almost as much time back at home with my parents as I am with Harper, especially since they don’t know about us yet.
“What kind of job?” Part of me is irritated, for a second, at the thought of getting a job through my girlfriend, instead of on my own. But after that flash reaction I realize how thoughtful it is that Harper’s been on the lookout for me, knowing one of my bigger hesitations about leaving the army was the fact that I didn’t know what I could do for work outside the military.
“It’s with my publishing company, but in the shipping department, not anything at all to do with me,” Harper says.
