Chapter 2
Dean
The first night I spend wrapped around Paisley isn’t ideal, but when I wake up with her hair in my mouth I can’t help but grin. The ground isn’t any less hard than when we went to sleep and the fire died out before sunrise but it’s still a great day to be alive.
My cock is so hard it aches, but I’m not surprised.
It’s been semi-hard since she smacked me with that paddle.
The temptation to sneak away for a moment to take the edge off is almost irresistible but the memory of her being scared for her life yesterday dulls my desire.
I don’t want to risk her waking up alone and afraid I’ve abandoned her.
My cock can wait.
Paisley’s still not graceful on the water. We carry our kayaks a little ways until the river opens up and we get past the worst of the rapids. She almost flips once we kick off the embankment, but after a bit she starts to get the hang of it.
“Go more left,” I call out.
She shoots a glare over her shoulder at me.
“Are you always this bossy?”
“I get it from my mom,” I reply with a grin.
She narrows her eyes but the smile she tries to hide is impossible to miss. We continue down the river, slow and steady, and when we take a break in the afternoon, I break out the fishing rod again, only this time Paisley tries her hand at it.
“Don’t laugh,” she growls at me in warning.
“I’m not laughing,” I promise holding my hands up in surrender.
She gives me a suspicious look before casting. The line sails out beautifully and I actually open my mouth to compliment her.
The rod jerks suddenly and her eyes widen.
“I got one!”
“You did?” I ask, echoing her excitement.
“I did!”
She starts reeling in her catch, completely focused.
I grab my own rod and set it aside, watching as she fights whatever is on the other end.
“Keep the tip up.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Sure, about that, Paddles?”
“Dean.”
“Paisley.”
The struggling fish isn’t the problem.
She swings the rod too quickly and I watch the line break free of the river. She’s lost her fish, but my little troublemaker doesn’t come up empty-handed. She hooks another catch only this time it isn’t a fish.
It’s me.
I look down at the hook caught in my shirt then back at her horrified expression and laugh.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.”
Paisley drops the rod in the kayak as she covers her face with both hands.
“I can’t believe I just hooked you.”
I glance at her then at the hook.
“Careful, Paddles. Someone might think you came out here trying to catch a mountain man.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Was that supposed to be charming?”
“Yes.”
“You failed,” she replies reaching over to help remove the hook.
“I don’t think I did,” I reply with a grin, before capturing her hands and tugging her closer for a kiss.
After a lifetime of avoiding anything that might pull me away from this mountain, I’m standing here letting Paisley reel me in.