“Was that okay? You didn’t come.”
I sit down on my shorts, which are draped over the log, and lift her so she’s straddling me again. My wet cock rests against the inside of her leg, the head pressed up against the bathing suit material.
“I didn’t come because I didn’t want to.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to?”
I kiss her puffy, wet lips. “I want to be inside you for that. I want your mouth on mine when I come.”
“But it was okay?”
“You were a million times better than okay.”
Her smile is more radiant than a sunrise.
I pull the ties on either hip and the front folds down, exposing her pink slit. I slide a knuckle low, rubbing her clit as we kiss. When she starts making those soft noises, I slip one finger inside her and then another to make sure she’s ready.
And then I remember I don’t have a condom with me.
Again.
Motherpucking fail.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LOG RIDE
I keep moving my fingers and kissing her, trying to come up with a way to make this work. I wanna get inside her so bad I can taste it. I can smell her, not in some weird creepy way, but my fingers are in her pussy, and she’s wet. I kinda want to go cookie diving for a while, but the log is rough, and there are bugs, so that’ll have to wait until later.
But I can pull out.
Maybe.
No.
I shouldn’t.
Pulling out is a bad idea. That’s how people end up having fourteen kids and being all, “I don’t know how that happened!” Except Sunny told me she’s on the pill. And I saw it in her medicine cabinet when I stayed there last weekend—right between the toothpaste and her face wash.
Sunny’s responsible. She doesn’t forget things like I do. Still, it’d be safer to dome up. I figure I can keep going like this and get her off, then we can go back to the cottage and have some super-gentle sex to avoid prolonging the recovery of my balls.
“Miller.” Sunny’s hand covers mine. She pushes my fingers deeper and shifts her hips, helping me out.
“That feel good, baby?”
“Mm-hmm.” She winds her other arm around my neck and bites along my jaw. It’s covered in scruffy, unkempt beard, so I can barely feel her teeth. “I want you in me.”
This is one of the things about Sunny that I appreciate. She doesn’t use trashy words the way the bunnies do, like they’re trying to impress me with sluttiness. Sunny is her sweet self, and she doesn’t try to be a porn star in bed—or on a log in the forest.
“I want the same.” I move my fingers faster and circle her clit with my thumb, trying extra hard to get her off. I don’t want to leave her hanging before I propose going back to the cottage to finish things.
I go with some toned-down dirty talk, because it might help me get her there quicker. “All I could think about this week was how good it was gonna be when I could put my hands on you again. I missed the way your skin tastes.”
She moans and grinds herself harder on my hand.
“I love those sounds you make when you’re getting close, and how soft your mouth is, and that thing you do with your tongue when we’re kissing. I wish you could see how amazing you look, naked like this, ready to come on my fingers. When we get back to the cottage I’m gonna eat your—”
Sunny groans and crushes my mouth to hers. Every muscle in her body vibrates with tension. She keeps shifting, riding my hand until she goes lax, then she slumps against me. I rub her back and kiss her shoulder, smiling with private satisfaction.
Sunny lifts her head and gives me a dopey smile. “I think you’re my orgasm soulmate.”
“I’ll be whatever kind of soulmate you want, Sunny Sunshine. I told you I’d make you feel better, didn’t I?”
“Uh-huh.”
I slowly withdraw my hand, sad that I’m not going to be putting another part of my body into all that tight, warm, and wet. Usually I’m sly about wiping my hand on the sheets, or in the case of immediate post-fingering sex, using it to lube up my dick before I roll on a condom. Here all I have is the log and some moss to work with, neither of which is very covert. Once we’re dressed I can always wash them in the lake, I guess.
Sunny clearly has a very different idea about what’s going down. She grabs my cock with one hand and uses my shoulder to hold herself up with the other. Her actions don’t register fully until she runs the head of my cock over her clit.
“Sweets, we’re gonna have to wait until we’re back at the cottage before we take this any further.”
“Why? You haven’t come yet, and you look like you need to.”
This is true. I definitely need to come. The head of my cock is almost purple. All this holding off and waiting after the week I had is making my balls explosive.
“I don’t have a condom with me.”
“Oh.” Her face falls.
This makes me want to engage in bad decisions. “They’re in my bag, back at the car.”
She tells me what I already know. “I’m on the pill.”
“I get that . . .”
“And I’m good about taking it.”
“That’s great, but—”
“You could pull out. Then you don’t have to worry.”
Maybe we are orgasm soulmates, as she’s read my mind. It’s difficult to be rational with Sunny rubbing the head of my dick on her clit. It’s like a precursor to how amazing things could get if she went a couple of inches lower.
“Or we could go anal.”
She says it flippantly. There isn’t even a hint of smile or that devious twinkle in her eye.
Here’s the thing about a proposition such as this: every guy, I don’t care who he is, wants to go where no man has gone before—or in Sunny’s case, where her ex-boyfriend, who I want to kill, tried to go all the fucking time. But it’s one of those activities that needs to be worked up to, if it happens at all. Ever. I’m not delusional enough to believe it will. Contrary to popular male fantasy, anal isn’t is as prevalent in real life as it is in porn.
“Uh . . .”
Sunny’s left eye twitches; then she bursts into a fit of giggles. “Oh my God! Your face, Miller. So awesome.”
“You know . . .” I squeeze her ass. “You do an awful lot of joking about me getting in your ass.”
“This the only time I’ve joked about it. Last time I thought you were pulling a sneak attack.” She does the slip ‘n’ slide with my cock again. This time she sinks down a couple of inches. I watch the head disappear inside her.
“Sunny.” It’s not even a warning; it’s just me saying her name.
“You made me feel good. Why can’t we feel good together?”
I should be more responsible, but I don’t want to. I let her sink all the way down until her ass is resting on my thighs. She starts with the hip swivels. I want to say it’s awesome, and it is because it’s Sunny, but I’m still sore, so there’s some discomfort along with the pleasure. I wrap my arms around her and keep her nice and close to prevent vigorous bouncing. That I definitely can’t handle.
“Why is it always so good with you?” She pushes her tongue past my lips, making it impossible to answer.
I know exactly what she means. It’s better with Sunny than it’s ever been, even with things not in perfect working order. Her hands are in my hair and on my face, her warm breath washing over my lips with every easy stroke. When she’s getting close to another orgasm, I shift around to make sure she gets the friction she needs.
I’m holding off, trying my best to wait until the magic has happened before I let the cannon blast. Her mouth drops open, her eyes wide with familiar surprise before they flutter shut. I hold her hips, helping keep the rhythm as her muscles lock down. As soon as she stops clenching around my cock, I lift her off. Her boobs are right in my face. I want to suck on a nipple, but I’m too busy aiming my dick away from her to multitask. Instead, I mash my face into her chest and hold he
r tightly.
The orgasm is like an atomic detonation. It’s a week of pent-up insecurity, anger, frustration, and missed whack-off sessions rolled together with an argument and making up. Plus a spider bite. It feels good, and it hurts like hell at the same time. I’m panting and sweaty, but I feel a whole lot better when it’s over. Sunny settles back in my lap and wraps around me like a human blanket.
“Is sex always supposed to be this awesome?”
“I don’t know. I guess it won’t be this awesome when we’re eighty, but for now, sure.”
“Now I get why people want to have it all the time.”
I rub her back. I feel bad that Sunny’s experience with sex has been so meh before now. But I like that it makes me her orgasm savior.
“We should probably get back to the cottage before Lily murders Randy, or Randy murders Bushman,” I mumble into her neck.
“Bushman?”
“Sorry. Kale.”
“Oh.” Sunny laughs. She leans back, her expression turning serious. She holds my face in her hands. “I’m sorry again that I used him to make you jealous. It was immature and stupid. I just . . .” She swallows hard. “I like you a lot, Miller. Like, really a lot. We fit, and that scares me sometimes.”
I pick up the end of the thin braid hanging in her face and brush the ends over my lips in contemplation. “I want this to be fun, not scary.” I put a hand over her heart. It also means I’m palming her boob. “I’m gonna do my best to keep this safe.”
It’s the closest I’ll get to telling her how I feel about her. For now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THAT GIRL IS POISON
I help Sunny tie her bikini bottoms before I put my shorts back on. She picks up her top and shakes off the dirt.
“That isn’t poison ivy, is it?” I point to the plants her bikini top was lying on.
She barely glances at them. “It’s Virginia Creeper. They look a lot alike.”
The Boy Scout in me wants to question that, but she’s been up here enough to know the difference. She ties the string behind her back and adjusts the cups so they cover her nipples.
My clothes didn’t get too dirty, thanks to the moss. My shorts are damp, probably from the sex, even though it was tame. I’ll have to change when we get back to the cottage either way. My shirt is in far worse shape. When I aimed my jizz away from Sunny, I managed to shoot it all over my T-shirt rather than anywhere else in the damn forest. I rinse it in the lake, along with my hands. We follow the trail back to the cottage with my soaked and jizzy shirt in my hand instead of on my body.
“When do you think Bushman and Benji are gonna leave?” I ask as the camping trailer comes into view, still parked in the driveway. “They don’t need to be here anymore. We can take you and Lily back to Guelph whenever you’re ready to go.”
“Benji won’t leave until he and Lily are back together.”
“Is that gonna happen anytime soon?”
Sunny shrugs. “Who knows with those two?”
I grab my bag from the rental. “Does this break-up thing happen a lot?”
“I guess it depends on what a lot is. They break up three or four times a year.”
That sure seems like a lot. “What’s the point of getting back together at all?”
“Lily says the sex is really good.”
Really good wouldn’t be good enough for me to put up with that shit, but I don’t say anything. Lily is Sunny’s bestie. If I know one thing about girls, it’s not to talk shit about their friends.
I peek inside the trailer as we pass. Benji seems to have gotten his ass up. The question is, where is he now, and how soon will he be leaving? His location becomes obvious when we walk into the cottage. Lily and Benji are in the kitchen having an out-and-out screaming match. Actually, Lily’s the screamer. Benji leans against the counter while she gets in his face.
Randy sits at the table across the room, eating a bowl of cereal and browsing a magazine like nothing is happening. The weird dick sculpture wearing the superhero cape is still on the table. I need to check that out later. Bushman is nowhere to be seen.
“We’re done, Benji! I’m not doing this anymore with you! How many times do I have to say it’s over before you get it?”
“You say this every time, and then we get back together.” He’s cocky about it, smirking like a jackass.
“Not this time!” Under all that anger are tears. She’s fighting them. I can see the tremble in her chin, even from across the room.
Benji laughs. Maybe it’s because he’s got an audience. Then again, maybe he really is a giant dick. “If I leave, you know you’ll be calling me in a couple hours, crying like you always do. So why don’t you take the bitch down a notch?”
Now Lily has been a serious pain in my ass where Sunny’s concerned. But no matter how I feel about her interference, I’m not cool with guys calling their girlfriends bitches. It’s demeaning. And he’s doing it in front of other people, which makes me wonder what he says to her when no one else is around. I’m about to say something, but Randy beats me to it.
He pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “The fuck you say to her?”
“Mind your own business,” Benji snaps.
Randy’s eyebrows lift, and he drops his spoon in his bowl. Milk splatters the table, his beard, and his shirt. He doesn’t seem to notice or care as he pushes his chair back. “Mind my own business?” Randy crosses the kitchen until he’s towering over Benji. Randy’s tall, but not as built as me. I tell him he’s skinny all the time. In hockey he’s lean; in the real world he’s intimidating, and he’s got about fifty pounds on Benji.
Randy thumbs over his shoulder at Lily. “You’ve been following her around the house like an untrained puppy for the past twenty minutes, needling the shit out of her right in front of me. Maybe it’s time you take a fucking hint and leave like she’s been asking you to.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You sure about that?” Randy cracks his knuckles.
“I have a brown belt in karate.”
“And I have a black belt in kick your fucking ass.”
Then the weirdest thing in the world happens. Lily grabs Randy by the shoulder, spins him around, and suctions her mouth to his.
“Is there a full moon?” I ask Sunny, who looks as shocked as me.
She doesn’t even have to think about her answer. “It’s not until next week.”
Randy’s hands are up in the air. His eyes are as wide as Sunny’s—and Benji’s. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so fucked up.
“Fuck you, Lily!” Benji yells and stomps off.
Lily breaks free from Randy’s mouth, covers his ears with her palms, and shouts, “No. Fuck you, Benji!”
He turns around to say something else, but Lily glues her lips to Randy’s again. Benji slams through the front door in a snit.
At this point it’s safe for Lily to disengage, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. Eventually, Randy takes her face in his hands and unlocks their mouths. Both Sunny and I are still staring.
“I think you proved your point, honey.”
Lily blinks. “What?”
“I think he got the message. You’re good.”
She shakes her head. “Oh. Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean. Shit.” She lets go of him like he’s a grenade without a pin.
“Unless you wanna keep going. I’ve already seen you naked, so we’re halfway there, right?” He grins and winks.
“Ugh. You’re a pig!”
Randy laughs as she pushes past him and heads for the stairs, her face an interesting shade of red. “I like your friend, Sunny. She’s fun.”
Randy laces his fingers together and stretches his arms over his head as he watches Lily run up the stairs. “I think I’m gonna go for a swim.”
It’s hot, and I smell like sex, so joining him seems like a smart plan. “I’mma do that, too. You coming?”
Sunny scratches the underside of her boob. “I’m g
onna change my bathing suit first. I think there might be pine needles stuck in this one or something. I’m itchy.”
“You want help with that?” I slide a finger under the fabric and graze her nipple.
“Later I want help with a lot of things. I should check on Lily first.”
“Sure thing, sweets.” I kiss her and then wait until she’s up the stairs and out of sight before I search my bag for a pair of swim shorts. I strip in the middle of the living room and change while Randy cleans up his mess. He’s already in swim shorts, so we go down to the dock together.
The camping trailer isn’t in the driveway anymore. Maybe that means Bushman is gone for good. Things are finally looking up.
***
We spend what’s left of the afternoon down at the dock. According to Sunny, the khaki twins have gone home for good. She called Bushman and told him, over voice mail, that they’d only ever be friends, and she hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression. I almost feel bad for him. Except he’s an asshole.
When the sun hangs over the tree line and my stomach starts to rumble, we go back up to the cottage to make dinner. While Sunny prepares some stuffed pepper deal, I check the fridge for animal products to go with it. I should know better—it’s full of tofu and fresh produce. The only item that isn’t plant-based is a container of non-dairy creamer, and that’s synthetic junk. If we’re going to stay a while, Randy and I will need to pick up some bacon and burgers at the very least. When I check the freezer, I find lobster tails and crab legs. If I’m going to eat Waters’ food, it might as well be the expensive stuff.
We don’t eat dinner until almost nine, which Sunny tells me is typical at the cottage. As long as there’s lots of food and it tastes good, I don’t care about timing. Lily comes down and surveys the table. It seats eight comfortably, but the only unused place setting is beside Randy. None of us—apart from Sunny—has seen her since the blowout with Benji and the face sucking with Randy. She doesn’t so much as look at him, but her face is red again, and she’s uncommonly quiet.
PUCKED Up Page 24
