Out of the Woods

Chapter Twenty

Twenty

“We’ve passed this tree at least three times,” I complain, reaching up to tighten my ponytail before bringing my forearm across my chin to dab the sweat away.

“We’re in the woods, Sar. A tree is a tree is a tree.”

“No, Cay, ” I throw back at him. “We’ve passed this specific tree. It has a nasty-looking orange mushroom at the base of it and the lowest branch looks like the letter W, ” I say, pointing. “I know this tree and, at this rate, this tree knows us. We are going around in circles.”

Caleb studies the large oak, his eyebrows twisting together as he blows out a long breath and holds up his compass again. “Yvonne said to head northeast…” he mumbles.

“Admit it, we’re lost.”

“?‘Not all those who wander are lost,’?” he says absentmindedly as he turns his body abruptly to the right, seemingly testing the compass’s capabilities.

“That’s nice and all, master Tolkien, but we definitely are.”

My husband throws me the proudest smile I have ever seen from him. “This stupid thing is broken,” he whispers, spinning on his heels again. “It’s stuck pointing north.”

“We have been walking for a biblical amount of time now…” I complain, mostly to myself as Caleb starts hitting the compass against his palm, glaring at it with all of his might. “Forty days and forty nights…” I add, falling back onto a large boulder as if it was a fainting chair. “I was warned about following strange men around the woods, but I didn’t listen.” Caleb seems to be looking for something to open the back of the compass with. As if a screwdriver will be conveniently under a nearby rock or leaf. “We’re running out of daylight.”

“It’s been less than thirty minutes,” Caleb replies dryly.

Oh, so he can hear me. “We could have done a lot in thirty minutes.”

That gets his attention…or, at least, half of it. “Patience, baby,” he coos.

“What is it, exactly, we’re looking for?”

“A waterfall.”

Okay, a waterfall would be nice…I’ll admit. To myself, that is.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m trying to get this”—he grunts, shaking the compass—“stupid thing to work.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I respond.

When he looks up at me, smugness radiates from him like steam wafting off of hot cement. “Nine times out of ten you say a lot more by saying nothing at all,” he says from a crooked mouth.

I can think of a lot better uses for that mouth.

“You don’t know me,” I argue mockingly, swallowing heavily in consequence to that look in his eye. The one that says if I keep acting up, I’ll get punished. This waiting isn’t exactly the punishment I had in mind, but who am I to criticize his tactics? Just kidding, I love to criticize and this is straight-up edging and stupid. “Now hush and get us where we need to be before I go rogue.” I lie back onto the rock, tilting to face him as I cushion my head with my forearm.

“Working on it…” he says, his eyes carving intention against every inch of my uncovered skin before he manages to pop the compass’s clear case off, revealing the instrument underneath. I close my eyes, listening to the sound of nature as I’ve become accustomed to doing over the past five days, allowing the sun’s glow to suffuse my body in its comforting warmth.

If I am not going to get laid, I may as well get a tan.

But after a minute—or possibly less—I cave. “You know, here would be just fine.” I open my eyes, peeking at my husband who’s, evidently, back in his little fix-it universe. “Or, anywhere…” I say, twisting in the opposite direction. “Actually, that tree does offer quite a lot of privacy.”

“I think it’s busted,” he declares, glaring at the compass in his hand before shoving it into his shorts pocket.

Yeah, sweetheart, I could’ve told you that. I prop myself up onto my elbows, determined to take matters into my own hands. And, by matters, I mean Caleb.

“So, I guess it’s time for a new plan,” I say, sitting up and twisting to place my feet back on the ground before walking over to him with one clear intention, easily communicated by the exaggerated sway of my hips and a devilish smirk. “How would you like to have your wife up against a tree?” I fist his T-shirt in my hand and tug his face nearer to mine.

“You wanted water…” His mouth barely brushes mine and yet it sends a shiver down my spine. Without conscious thought I find myself straining to reach him—my body seeking his without permission. “It’s more romantic that way,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine.

“What if I told you that I don’t want romantic?”

“What do you want?” he asks, toying with me as the tip of his nose traces my eyebrow in a path to find my hairline. He buries his face into the side of my neck, breathing me in with a low growl of appreciation from the back of his throat.

Campfire, I think to myself. His kryptonite.

“Honestly…” I whisper dryly, “I would take a dirty roadside motel at this point, love.”

“Hot.” He breathes out a laugh against my cheek, tilting my mouth toward his with the push of his jaw against mine.

“You know it,” I say, narrowly avoiding his kiss by ducking to the left. “But we have to get off this trail first…” I look toward the clearing behind a large tree nestled against a moss- and rock-covered cliffside. “Unless you’re suddenly into voyeurism.”

I inhale sharply when Caleb reaches for my tank top’s strap and hauls me back to his chest. His knuckles press into my collarbone as he tightens his hold. His laugh, in reaction to my involuntary gasp, is low and falls heavy against my skin. Goosebumps follow as I blink up toward him, finding a matching, weighted heat behind his eyes that pins my feet to the ground.

“I think you meant exhibitionism…and no, I’m not. Trust me when I say that the way I’m feeling right now”—his other hand moves to grip my hip, his fingers flexing as if he’s restraining himself from burying them into my flesh—“let’s just say I’d not be up for sharing.”

I giggle nervously as I slowly begin walking backward, guiding him toward the clearing with his hand wrapped around my shirt’s strap acting like a leash. We make it as far as the boulder I’d been lounging on before I trip, the back of my foot catching on a tree root, and almost fall backward. Caleb uses his hold on my shirt to catch me, quickly throwing his other arm around my lower back. “Careful,” he whispers, his heated gaze slipping for a second as a teasing grin takes its place.

I’m hanging in his arms like he’s about to dip me amidst a ballroom dance, hot and all kinds of bothered, yet all I can muster is another, uneasy, girlish giggle. I wish I could astral project out of my body and physically shake myself. I’ve read enough romance books to build my own library and yet all those clever quips, witty comebacks, and kiss-me-why-don’t-you phrases are evading me entirely.

“I—” Caleb says, his eyes held on me in earnest, cradling me like I’m something precious. “You—” He subtly shakes himself, his nostrils flaring slightly as he seems to center himself. “I love you so much.” The words are whispered but far from soft. “I love you,” he repeats, his chest rising as if he can’t catch his breath.

Caleb moves so fast; I blink and nearly miss it.

The moment he straightens so I can stand on my own two feet, he instantly bends down to pick me up, pulling my legs to wrap around his back and supporting my weight with his hold on the backs of my thighs. Then, finally, our mouths collide.

Our kiss is downright violent. Tugging teeth, fighting tongues, and shared, breathless gasps. Caleb bends down, balancing me on his legs as he readjusts his hold on me. His palms find my ass cheeks and squeeze to the point of near pain as his thumbs pull the material of my shorts into a makeshift thong.

“And…fuck you for these,” he says, bared teeth at my jaw as he walks us into the darkened shade of the oak tree. “I should spank you for even wearing these in front of anyone else. Do they even count as shorts?”

“Possessive much?” I tease as he buries kisses down the side of my throat, palming my ass in rhythm with each suck and pull of my skin into his mouth. God…he’s going to mark me all over. And I want him to.

“The other day after our fight,” he says, his lips pressing into my shoulder, “I was so scared of losing you and I played out all of these horrible scenarios, imagining someone else having you.” My back hits a tree trunk with a thud that I think I’ll be replaying in my fantasies for years to come. “It’s been driving me a little—”

“Wild,” I answer for him, admiring the slightly crazed look in his eyes.

His forehead drops to my shoulder, his shoulders rising on heavy breaths. “Sorry…” he mumbles.

“No,” I say adamantly, tugging at the back of his hair, driving my fingers into his curls. “I like it…” I whisper as our eyes meet. For one heady moment, there’s nothing else in the universe but Caleb’s hungry, cinnamon-colored eyes on mine. “Make me yours,” I tell him.

With that, his mouth finds mine again. His kiss is forceful and heated yet concentrated and precise like a blowtorch operating against metal. His fingertips pry at the crease of my ass, spreading and kneading in rhythm with the jutting of his hips, soliciting involuntary moans from my throat as my back grazes the bark of the tree. My hands fist in his hair, paw at his neck, grasp at his shoulders and every other inch of him available to me and god I feel as if I’m getting drunk on it. Like every swipe of his tongue is a swig of wine, or a shot of something far better than liquor.

“I need more,” I say between feverish kisses. “Put me down.”

He groans, as if he’d rather die than do just that. As if any change will force us to leave the perfection of this moment behind. But I know what’s best for us both. I want—no, I need— our clothes off. At least some of them. Enough of them to take what I want.

“I said put me down,” I command, my hand gripping tightly on his jaw.

His beard skates across my palm as he slowly twists out of my hold and retreats a step, unpinning my hips from the tree. He backs away, putting his hands up as if he’s dropped a weapon of some kind between us. Or, maybe, I’m the weapon.

I reach down to the hem of my tank top and tug it off, revealing the simple white bra I have on underneath. Caleb keeps backing away until his back hits the jagged cliff’s edge. His hands explore the wall as his eyes remain raptly focused on me, and eventually he finds a ledge large enough to sit on. I walk over to him, undoing my bra as I go.

I expect a wave of nerves to follow, baring myself to him under the shaded daylight where any hikers could pass by if they find themselves off the trail—but my hands remain steady. And that fills me with even more confidence. Even in the privacy of our bedroom I’ll often want the lights to be off before we get undressed. But there’s something about being out here in the open that makes me feel recklessly alive. The vulnerability and the sweat and the grime and the earthiness of it all. Something about that indisputable desire in Caleb’s expression that removes all possible insecurity.

I feel beautiful. I feel wanted. I feel loved. I feel so seen by him.

“Baby,” Caleb says, dragging a hand down his chin as I place my shirt and bra on a nearby tree stump. I smile back at him, closing the distance between us. “Are we really doing this?”

“I think we are,” I say, settling into his lap. I’m greeted by two large hands finding the center of my back, spread wide and reverent. He tilts me backward by lifting his hips and cradles me in his arms as my back arches. His lips make quick work of finding my tits, his tongue circling my nipples as he murmurs wordless praises against my skin. He licks from the hollow of my chest to the underside of my chin and it’s not long before we’re kissing again—just as animalistic and yet somehow still as tender.

We kiss and kiss and kiss. And it’s as if I can feel our shared focus. Neither of us is imagining how to shed some more clothing. Neither of us is one step ahead. We’re present, in this together enjoying every glorious second.

“Is it me or—”

“No, this is insanely good,” Caleb says, in an almost-bitter laugh as he completes my exact thought.

I grind myself against him, twisting my hips to seek more friction. More, more, more my body chants.

“It’s always been—” Caleb says, moving his hand to tighten around the base of my neck. “But this…” His hand is clasped there as he brings me back in for another heady kiss.

This, my thoughts agree, echoing my body. I pull my mouth away from his and the action is met with a ragged, agitated moan.

“Trust me,” I say, rising off his lap to stand. I look down, admiring the hard lines of his cock outlined by his shorts. I bend over, each hand on one of his knees, and push them apart as I lower to kneel.

“Baby,” Caleb whispers. The word somehow represents both halves of my husband that I’ve come to love. The doting partner who is audibly concerned about my comfort and the lust-filled man, praising me. “Your knees…” Again, it’s as if both halves agree on the words but not the tone in which he speaks them. “Fuck,” he whispers, in concern and celebration.

“I’m sure you’ll bandage them up later,” I say, reaching for the tie of his shorts. I tug on the loose end, undoing the knot with unwavering eye contact shared between us.

“Fuck yeah, I will…” he says, assisting me by lifting his lower half as I make quick work of pulling his shorts down past his thighs. I smirk in satisfaction as my husband’s dick springs free, rock hard and flushed with need.

“I missed this,” I say, licking my lips at the sight of him. My knees dig into the hard, unforgiving earth as I bring him into my mouth, taking every inch until he hits the back of my throat. I moan around him, and he shudders on a ragged whimper.

“Sarah,” he pants, the muscles in his thighs tensing under my palms at the same time he moves to grip my hair. He fists my ponytail, straining and loosening his grip with every movement of my mouth. “Baby, slow down,” he begs as I swirl my tongue around his tip before bringing my lips back down his shaft. “Oh my god,” he says, voice tight. “Sar…I need you to stop.”

I lick up the hard vein on the underside of him, bringing my hand in to fist the base of his cock. “Why?” I ask sweetly, smiling up at him.

“Up,” he says, his jaw tenses as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“I’m having fun.”

“I know, gorgeous…But I haven’t come in over a month and when I do again, it won’t be in your mouth.” Over a month?

“Cay…” I eye him skeptically. “You’ve not touched yourself?” I knew we weren’t having sex since our fight at the fundraiser but surely he hasn’t—

“I tried,” he says. Caleb’s throat flexes as he swallows, his eyes measuring the distance between his dick and my lips. “But every time I had to rely on my own imagination, I just thought about how upset you were and I…I lost it.”

“That night in the shower? When I walked in on you?”

“I had been trying to, but I couldn’t…I don’t know. It didn’t feel right.”

I tilt my head to wrap my lips around the side of his hardness, pressing delicate, teasing kisses. “I love you,” I say, lowering my mouth onto him once again. He cries out, his hand shaking against my cheek, as if he’s fighting to gain control or, rather, to not lose every semblance of it.

And fuck if that doesn’t turn me on even more. I love bringing him right to the edge and testing what that exact line is. I love any time I’m given the chance to steal my man’s sanity while on my knees. Especially when it’s so easy to take.

Caleb stands, robbing me of him. “No more, baby.” He reaches down, tilting my face up to his. “Come here.” He holds out his hand in offering to help me and I reluctantly take it. Once I’m standing, Caleb’s heated gaze drops down my body and with one swift tug, my shorts land on the rocky ground.

I smile knowingly, watching my husband’s expression shift. He licks his teeth behind closed lips, as his brow furrows to an almost comical point. “You cannot be serious,” he chastises.

“We don’t exactly have laundry out here.” Though, my availability of clean underwear has nothing to do with my lack of panties. That’s all for him.

“You wore those shorts all day with a bare pussy…” He circles around me, purposeful in each movement. I look over my shoulder to see him stop behind me, licking his smiling lips as his hands find the curve of my lower back, his thumbs pressing into my tailbone. “You are something else, woman.”

“Impatient?” I offer. “Desperate?”

“Wild,” he answers. “Put your hands on the rocks….”

I turn forward and place one hand on the cliff’s edge, and then the other, doing my best to avoid sharp stones. Naturally, I bend forward to do so, arching to the point where I can feel his upper thigh graze against my ass. God, I’ve never been this needy. “Like this?” I ask, twisting to press against him.

“Yes, perfect,” Caleb says, pressing a kiss onto the wing of my shoulder blade. His arm wraps around my waist and his hand finds my left breast, then he does the same with his right hand too. For several bliss-filled moments he plays with my tits, grasping and pinching and plucking as he grinds his cock against my ass and lower back.

I’m preening for him, little gasps and moans pouring out of me as I fight to keep my grip on the wall in front of me. I can feel myself dripping with need for him, coating the insides of my thighs as he curls his body around mine from behind, kissing the back of my neck and shoulders. “Are you ready, baby?” he whispers against the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“Yes,” I plead, gulping for air. “Please.”

He drops his hand from my breast and caresses his way down my abdomen with the backs of his knuckles. Once he gives my pussy a quick stroke, he reaches between my legs to take a hold of himself and notches against my entrance.

“Fuck,” I tremble, feeling the wide tip of him press into me.

“God, the feel of you,” Caleb says in a heavy whisper. He slides himself into me and my eyes roll back into my head as his hands find my tits and begin molding me in his grip once again. We both gasp once he’s fully seated inside of me. Nothing has ever felt this good. Every single one of my nerve endings, every pulse point, is awake and aware.

Caleb stills, planting kisses at the top of my spine as his nose presses into the base of my hairline. But I begin writhing against him, unable to help myself.

His arms cross over me in a tight hold, one hand wrapped over my chest and the other around my lower belly. “Stay still, baby.”

“I need you,” I whine, shutting my eyes tight as I tilt back into him.

“ And I need to not lose it right away.”

I bite my lower lip as it turns into a smile. “What happened to the grown man who knows how to take his time?”

Smack. Before I’d even fully finished my question Caleb’s arm loosened around my belly and his palm found my left ass cheek.

“ He, ” Caleb practically growls, pistoning into me, “has been in withdrawal.”

“You missed me,” I say, pride flooding my veins as I sway my hips side to side within his hold.

“Baby, all I do is miss this pussy.” He moves to cup it in his palm, gliding two slick fingers around my clit.

I laugh softly, rotating my hips against him as best I can in his rigid hold. “Then, take it already.”

And take it he does.

With unrelenting thrusts, Caleb begins pounding into me from behind in rhythm with my quickened heartbeat. The relaxing sounds of nature that we’d previously been cocooned in transform into something far from it. Reverberating off the cliff’s edge is the indelicate rhythm of skin slapping against skin. A chorus of grunts and moans and shuddered breaths in a cacophony of pleasure.

Baby and fuck and yes and so good spoken into the charged air between us. Harder and shit and oh and oh and oh and Caleb all chanted as I come undone over and over and over again.

Even at our best, on top of luxury bed linens in hotels with million-dollar views, tipsy on champagne, fresh from rose-petal baths, giddy with endorphins, and surrounded by helpful little vibrating toys, Caleb’s never pulled so many orgasms out of me.

We’ve opened our hearts, let the ugly out, and welcomed each other’s darkness with kind regard. And this is our reward.

Caleb’s fingers work savagely at my clit as he slows his pace, his arm tensing around my waist as his breaths staccato. “I-I’m going to—” he stammers. “I’m close.” His hand finds the vacant space next to mine on the wall’s rocky surface and, hazy-eyed, I look up to watch the tendons in his arm flex as he supports his weight over top of me.

I lace my pinky finger over his thumb, shuddering out a long, anguished cry as I suspect what will be my final orgasm rolls through me. “Come with me,” I beg. “Please,” I whimper.

With that, my husband grunts and spills into me, a quaking “ Yes ” cascading out of him as he moves his hand from between my legs to my stomach, pulling me closer.

After he’s finished, I let my head roll back, resting on the column of his throat. His hand moves from my stomach, then both of his hands take gentle hold of my wrists. He brings them in, crossing my arms in front of my chest in an X, like a self-soothing hug and comforting hold from him in one.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, leaning into him.

Caleb whispers something indiscernible against my shoulder, pressing his cheek flush against my skin as he lowers to remove himself from me. Once he’s back and wrapped around me fully once again, I turn within his arms to hug him, pressing my face to his chest.

With a kiss on my forehead, he palms my ass, massaging with both hands. I tilt back to smile up at him.

“Happy?” I ask.

“There aren’t words,” he answers simply, his face stuck in exhausted wonderment. “Having you in my arms like this. Feeling you…feeling you come around me. Being out in the open. I think I’m dead. I think heaven might be real. I think it’s you.”

“This may have beat our night in Paris,” I suggest playfully, kissing him on the cheek before stepping out of his hold and turning in the direction of the tree stump where I left my shirt and bra. “Fuck!” I shout, putting my arms out in front of me as if I’m a blackbelt in karate and not the human embodiment of a couch cushion.

Sitting on top of my bra, really sort of cradled in my bra cup, is a rather perverted chipmunk.

Caleb can barely catch his breath as he laughs, struggling to pull his swimming shorts back on. “So we were being watched.” He forces the words out through winded laughter.

I pick up my shorts off the ground and shake them free of loose dirt and debris. “Fucking creep!” I seethe as I lunge toward Chippy as he sniffs at my bra’s strap.

“Don’t be so hard on him. I’d live in there too, if I could,” Caleb teases, picking up an acorn and tossing it at the ground near our new friend, who then scampers off. “There,” he says.

“My hero,” I reply dryly as I make my way toward my discarded clothes.

“Hurry up and put your tits away, Linwood,” he says, crowding me from behind as he tugs his shirt back on. “Or we’ll never get back to camp.” He places his hands on my belly, his thumbs grazing the underside of my breasts.

I step away from him, glaring playfully as I pull on my bra and clasp it. “We both know you don’t have another round in you, wonder boy. ” I pat his chest before throwing on my tank top and heading toward the trail. “Let’s try to find that waterfall. I really need to clean up.”

“It was worth the wait though, right?” he calls from behind me. “C’mon,” he shouts as I begin to jog away from him. “Admit it!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” I say, picking up my speed.

—

A little while later, we’re heading back to camp, having found the waterfall about ten minutes away from where we scarred that chipmunk for life. It wasn’t so hard to find once we ditched the broken compass and my brain was less distracted by horniness.

“It’s weird we fucked with only shoes on, right?”

“What?” I ask, stopping abruptly on the trail. Caleb keeps walking as if he’s tunnel-visioned in thought—no idea that I’m no longer beside him as he rambles to his own shadow.

I jog to take my place next to him, catching him mid-sentence. “—and not that it wasn’t fantastic, we’ve established that it was. But only shoes is weird, don’t you think?”

I blink at him, struck by equal parts amusement and confusion as to why he’s bringing this up hours after the fact. “I’m glad that’s what’s sticking with you…” I make no effort to hide my sarcastic tone, but it doesn’t seem to register with him as he keeps his gaze forward and brow furrowed in thought.

I, for one, have been perfectly without thought since we washed our weary, sex-spent bodies under the stream of the waterfall together during what must have been the most perfect golden-hour of sunlight to ever exist.

“I mean, I’ve fucked you while wearing shoes, obviously, but just not only shoes.”

“I understand.”

“But I guess you’ve been fucked in only shoes before.”

“Heels, yes.”

“Then, there was the slight exhibitionism element, but I don’t necessarily think—”

I reach out and grab his wrist, making him stand still long enough to search his eyes and quiet his words, if not his mind. “Are you okay?” I ask. “You seem to be… really thinking.” I offer a timid, half-assured smile. “Not that I don’t love that beautiful brain of yours but…what is it trying to do?”

“Sorry.” He shakes himself. “I think I’m getting a little bit of pre-emptive performance anxiety.”

“What do you mean?” I pick a piece of forest floor from his shirt’s sleeve and brush my hand over his shoulder, removing any residual dirt. He ducks his chin, resting his jaw along my wrist until his lips press my pulse point.

“I want you to feel that good every time,” he says, voice soft and low and shy.

“Me too,” I tease, though I’m cautious with my laughter. “Why is that worrying you, love?”

“I’m trying to figure out what it is that made this time so different, so that I can recreate it.”

Oh, my sweet man. I rise up to kiss him on the cheek, using a hand on the back of his neck for purchase as I lean on the tips of my toes to do so. “Cay.” I sigh, shaking my head. “It’s always good.”

He places the backs of two of his fingers to the spot where I kissed him and his soft, amorous eyes find mine, glowing amber from the light of the setting sun. It strikes me, not for the first time but powerfully nevertheless, that I lucked out beyond measure in the husband department. I, earlier than most, found a man who can fuck me senseless, whispering all sorts of filthy litanies as he does so, gets lost in the mechanics of it all—his brain needing to rationalize and explain every phenomenon—and who then also turns bright red with a simple kiss on the cheek.

That duality is possibly his greatest strength that I have overlooked for far too long.

“Maybe it’s just the air out here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “That forest magic you mentioned.”

My smile twitches. “I think that maybe sex is just better when you’re on the same page emotionally and physically…at least for us. Plus, we had to wait for it,” I admit begrudgingly.

He nods slowly, appearing deep in thought. Then, after a moment, a bashful, lopsided grin forms, slowly overtaking his features. “Well, thank you Yvonne and Helen then,” he snickers. “They should put that on the pamphlet.”

“You’re such a dork,” I say, pushing his shoulder. “I love you,” I add, intertwining my fingers with his. He answers with a kiss to the back of my hand, held in his, and another to my forehead.

“I love you too,” he replies as we begin walking. After a moment’s quiet, Caleb opens up his thoughts once again. “You know what song I haven’t been able to get out of my head since we got here? That one from the cartoon version of Robin Hood…‘Oo-De-Lally.’?”

“Excellent choice…The real question is, am I Little John or are you?”

“Oh, I’m definitely John,” he answers in a near scoff. “You’re always the main character.” I roll my eyes, my smile pointed at the ground as we trudge uphill. Once we reach the top, Caleb begins whistling the aforementioned, familiar tune.

I look up to the sky and wonder if it was too good to be true. If life could be this sweet and simple. If we’d be able to keep it this way once we returned home.