Chapter Five
“ We're under the stars. Might as well make a wish.”
Skye
I'd meant for it to be a quick kiss. A thank-you-for-saving-me, sorry-for-invading-your-life kind of kiss. Light. Brief. The kind that would leave room for polite goodbyes and no regrets.
That plan lasted approximately two seconds.
The moment Leif responded—his hand sliding into my hair, pulling me closer—any pretense of a casual kiss went up in flames. His mouth was hot and certain against mine, the slight scratch of his beard sending shivers down my spine. I made a sound I barely recognized as my own, somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
"Skye," he murmured against my lips, and just my name in that rough voice undid me completely.
The next thing I knew, his hands were at my waist, lifting me with ridiculous ease until I was straddling his lap on the log. The new position brought us flush against each other, and I could feel the hard planes of his chest through my thin tank top. The rough denim of his jeans pressed against my thighs, creating a delicious friction even through my yoga pants.
"This is—" I started to say, but he cut me off with another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my toes curl inside my sneakers.
When we finally broke apart for air, my heart was racing so fast I thought it might actually burst from my chest. Firelight danced across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw, casting his eyes in shadow. But I could feel the intensity of his gaze all the same, like a physical touch moving across my skin.
"This is not how science camp usually ends," I managed, slightly breathless.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "No?"
"Definitely not. Usually it's just star charts and juice boxes. The occasional stomachache from too many s'mores."
"Disappointed?" His hands tightened slightly at my waist.
"Do I look disappointed?" I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in until our foreheads touched. "We're under the stars. Might as well make a wish."
"What would you wish for?" His voice was so low I felt it more than heard it, rumbling through his chest and into mine.
In answer, I kissed him again, slow and deliberate, showing him exactly what I wanted. His response was immediate and electric, hands sliding up my back, holding me to him like he was afraid I might disappear.
"Inside," he murmured against my mouth. "My tent's set up behind the counselor's cabin."
I pulled back slightly, searching his face. "You planned this?"
"No." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture surprisingly tender. "But I wasn't planning to drive back tonight. Mandy offered the space."
"So thoughtful of her," I said dryly. "I bet she didn't have any ulterior motives at all."
Leif's low chuckle vibrated through me where our bodies pressed together. "Your friend's not exactly subtle."
"Subtlety has never been Mandy's strong suit. She once tried to set me up with the barista at our coffee shop by asking him, while I was standing right there, if he was single and if he thought science teachers were hot."
"Are they?"
"Are they what?"
"Hot." His hands slid under the hem of my tank top, calloused fingertips tracing patterns on my lower back. "Science teachers."
"This one is about to spontaneously combust, so I'd say yes."
That earned me another smile, small but real, and something fluttered in my chest that had nothing to do with physical attraction and everything to do with how rare and precious those smiles seemed.
He stood suddenly, lifting me with him as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, a squeak of surprise escaping me.
"Show-off," I accused, but I couldn't keep the grin off my face.
"Practical," he countered. "Faster this way."
"Worried I'll change my mind?"
His eyes found mine in the firelight, suddenly serious. "Will you?"
"Not a chance, Mountain Man." I kissed him again, because I could, because he was here and solid and real beneath my hands. "Lead the way."
We made it to his tent in a series of stumbling steps and stolen kisses, laughing quietly when we nearly tripped over a support line. The tent was simple but spacious—a two-person dome in dark green canvas with a sleeping bag already laid out on a foam pad.
"Very presumptuous," I teased as he unzipped the flap.
"I sleep outside most nights," he said, letting me slide down his body until my feet touched the ground. "Force of habit."
"Even in your own cabin?"
"Even then. Sometimes." He cupped my face in his hands, studying me in the dim light filtering through the tent fabric. "You're sure about this?"
"Leif," I said, placing my hands over his. "I've been sure since you caught me staring at you chopping wood this morning. Possibly since you found me in the mud looking like a drowned rat. Definitely since you fixed my tire and didn't make me feel like an idiot for getting lost."
"You're not an idiot."
"Tell that to my soggy sandals." I rose on tiptoe, pressing my mouth to his. "Now, are we going to keep talking, or...?"
He answered by kissing me with a hunger that stole my breath. His hands slid down to my hips, then lower, lifting me again and carrying me into the tent. The sleeping bag was soft beneath my back as he laid me down, his body a delicious weight above mine.
In the dim light, I could just make out his features as he looked down at me, his expression a mix of desire and something tender and almost wondering.
"What?" I whispered, suddenly self-conscious.
"You're beautiful," he said simply, as if stating an obvious fact.
Before I could respond—before I could crack a joke to deflect the compliment like I usually would—he was kissing me again, and thinking became secondary to feeling.
His hands were everywhere, sliding beneath my tank top, tracing the curve of my waist, the underside of my breast. I arched into his touch, my own hands exploring the ridges of muscle beneath his shirt.
"Off," I demanded, tugging at the fabric. "Need this off."
He obliged, sitting back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head. The sight of him—all defined muscle and smooth skin in the dim light—made my mouth go dry. A thin scar ran along his left side, pale against his tanned skin, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.
"Your turn," he said, voice rough with desire.
I sat up, crossing my arms to grab the hem of my tank top, but he stopped me with a gentle hand.
"Let me."
His soft touch as he slowly lifted my top made my heart stutter. This wasn't the frantic undressing I'd experienced with previous partners—the race to get naked and get off. This was deliberate, almost worshipful, his fingers tracing each newly exposed inch of skin as if memorizing a map.
When the tank top finally joined his shirt somewhere in the corner of the tent, his gaze dropped to my simple cotton bra, nothing fancy or meant to seduce—just plain blue with a tiny silver star between the cups.
"You're staring," I whispered, echoing his words from this morning.
"Can't help it." His hands skimmed up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. "You're something else, Skye Dawson."
"You too, Leif Brannick." I reached for the button of his jeans. "And you're still wearing too many clothes."
We undressed each other slowly, between kisses that grew increasingly desperate. When we were finally skin to skin, his body covering mine, I felt a sense of rightness that I'd never experienced before—like puzzle pieces clicking into place.
"Skye," he breathed against my neck, his hand sliding between us. "Tell me what you want."
"You," I answered honestly. "Just you."
His fingers found me then, exploring with the same deliberate attention he'd shown to every other part of me. I gasped as he parted my folds, finding me already wet and eager for more. He circled my sensitive bud with agonizing precision, then slipped one thick finger inside me.
"Like this?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.
"Yes," I managed, clutching at his shoulders as he added a second finger, stretching me deliciously. "God, yes."
His fingers moved rhythmically, curling inside me until I was writhing beneath him, my hips chasing each stroke. His thumb pressed into my clit in maddening circles, dragging me closer to the edge until I could barely breathe, let alone think. My body felt like it was vibrating—like a star ready to collapse in on itself.
His cock was even bigger than I'd expected, thick and hard, and the thought of him filling me made my inner walls clench with anticipation.
"Leif, please," I begged, feeling the pressure building low in my belly. "I want you. Now."
He positioned himself between my spread thighs, the blunt head of his cock nudging against my slick entrance, teasing me with shallow thrusts that made my entire body arch toward him. I needed him deeper—all of him. The stretch as he pushed in was almost too much and yet not enough. My breath caught as he bottomed out, the sensation overwhelming, exquisite, primal.
"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. "You feel incredible."
I could only whimper in response, overwhelmed by the fullness, the slight burn giving way to pure pleasure as my body adjusted to his size.
"Okay?" he asked, holding perfectly still despite the tension evident in every line of his body.
In answer, I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his firm ass, pulling him deeper until he was fully seated within me. "More than okay. Move, Leif. Please."
He withdrew almost completely before thrusting back in, setting a rhythm that had me seeing stars—appropriately enough for an astronomy camp. Each deep, relentless stroke drove me closer to the edge, his rhythm powerful and unyielding. My fingers raked over his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as heat coiled tighter and tighter in my belly. When his thumb found my clit again, I shattered, crying out as my orgasm tore through me—blinding, raw, and so intense I saw stars behind my eyelids. He followed with a deep groan, his body tensing as he pulsed inside me, buried to the hilt.
"Cassiopeia," I whispered against his shoulder once I could form words again, biting gently at the muscle there.
He paused, looking down at me with confusion. "What?"
"The constellation." I smiled, tracing the W-shape on his back. "Five stars. Right here on your skin."
He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. "Only you would think of constellations right now."
"Occupational hazard." I rolled my hips, drawing a groan from him. "Don't stop."
"Wasn't planning to." He dipped his head to capture my mouth, resuming his movements with renewed intensity.
We moved together in the dim light, the only sounds our mingled breaths and the occasional creak of the tent. His hand slipped between us again, finding the bundle of nerves that sent electric shocks through my system.
"Leif," I gasped, feeling the tension building within me. "I'm close."
"Let go," he urged, his rhythm becoming more insistent. "I've got you."
And I did, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed over me. He followed moments later, his face buried in my neck, my name a prayer on his lips.
For a long time afterward, we lay tangled together, his weight half on me, half on the sleeping bag. I traced idle patterns on his sweat-slicked back, mapping galaxies in the dips and curves of his muscles.
"That was..." I started, then trailed off, unable to find adequate words.
"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "It was."
Eventually, he shifted to lie beside me, pulling me against his chest. The sleeping bag was barely big enough for both of us, but I didn't mind the close quarters. His heartbeat steadily beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, fingers playing with a strand of my hair.
"That this is not how I expected my emergency camp counselor gig to end." I tilted my head to look up at him. "But I'm not complaining."
"Neither am I." His expression was softer than I'd seen it before, the hard lines of his face relaxed in the aftermath. His eyes, usually so guarded, held a warmth that made my chest tighten.
"Do you do this often? Rescue damsels in distress and then seduce them on starry nights?"
He snorted. "You're the first damsel. And I'm pretty sure you seduced me."
"Joint effort." I replied lightly, marveling at how comfortable I felt with him despite the newness of it all. "But seriously. Why me? You don't exactly seem like the type to go for..." I gestured vaguely at myself.
"For?"
"Well, chatty teachers who get lost in the woods and can't change a tire."
His brow furrowed. "You think that matters to me?"
"I don't know what matters to you," I admitted. "That's kind of my point. We're practically strangers."
"Not anymore." His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. He brought our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. "And for the record, I don't do this. Ever. Not since..."
He trailed off, and I felt him tense slightly beneath me.
"Since what?" I prompted gently.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then, so quietly I almost missed it: "Since the fire."
I waited, sensing there was more, giving him space to continue or not. My thumb stroked the back of his hand in silent encouragement.
"Pine Ridge," he said finally. "Lost a member of our crew. A good man. Another almost didn’t make it—he’s alive but his scars run deep."
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer as if seeking comfort from my presence. "It's just... after that, I needed space. Quiet. Control."
"And I'm basically chaos incarnate," I said, understanding dawning.
"Beautiful chaos." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering. "Unexpected. But not unwelcome."
I raised my hand to cup his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard against my palm. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one." His eyes held mine, a vulnerability in them I hadn't seen before. "I've been alone a long time, Skye. By choice. But with you..." He paused, seeming to search for words. "With you, it doesn't feel like I'm giving something up. It feels like I'm finding something I didn't know was missing."
The confession, so quietly spoken, stole my breath. I kissed him then, pouring everything I couldn't yet say into the gesture—my wonder at finding this connection, my fear of its fragility, my wish for it to last forever.
We fell silent after that, the only sound our breathing and the distant chorus of night insects. I felt myself drifting, lulled by the warmth of his body and the exhaustion of the day.
"Skye?" he murmured, his voice already thick with approaching sleep.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for getting lost."
I smiled against his chest. "Thank you for finding me."
Sleep claimed us both then, wrapped in each other's arms beneath a canopy of stars we could no longer see but knew were there.
***
I woke with a start, disoriented in the unfamiliar darkness. A warm weight pressed along my back—Leif's arm, draped over my waist. His steady breathing told me he was still asleep, each exhale a warm puff against my neck.
Carefully, I extracted myself from his embrace, shivering as the cool pre-dawn air hit my bare skin. I fumbled for my clothes, pulling them on as quietly as possible. The digital watch I'd left in my pocket read 4:37 AM. The kids would be up in a couple of hours, eager for breakfast and more activities.
The reality of the situation settled over me like a physical weight. I'd just slept with a man I'd met less than 48 hours ago. A man who lived alone in the woods by choice. A man who, by his own admission, had spent years avoiding human connection.
What had I been thinking?
I hadn't been thinking—that was the problem. I'd been feeling. And it had been wonderful. Electric. Unlike anything I'd experienced before.
But now, in the quiet darkness before dawn, doubts crept in. What did this mean? What did he expect? What did I want?
I needed air.
As silently as possible, I unzipped the tent flap and slipped outside. The camp was still and peaceful, the only sound the soft rustle of wind through the pines. Above, the sky was a tapestry of stars, clearer than I'd seen in years, the Milky Way a bright swath across the darkness. The air was cold and crisp, carrying the scent of pine and wood smoke from the now-dead campfire.
I hugged my arms around myself, not from cold so much as uncertainty. Last night had been... magical. There was no other word for it. But magic wasn't real, was it? It was just physics and chemistry. Reactions. Impulses.
I settled onto a large rock near the tent, tilting my head back to take in the enormity of the sky. The stars always helped me think, put things in perspective. But tonight, they only reminded me of the vast differences between Leif and me.
He was rooted here, in this wilderness, by choice and by pain. I had a life in Missoula—students, friends, an apartment with glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. We existed in different worlds that had briefly, unexpectedly collided.
A comet suddenly streaked across the sky, bright and fleeting, leaving a faint silver trail that faded almost instantly. I made a wish before I could stop myself, a childish impulse left over from nights spent stargazing with my father.
I wish...
But what did I wish for? A summer fling with a gorgeous mountain man? Something more permanent? Both seemed equally impossible.
Leif Brannick wasn't the kind of man you got to keep. He belonged to the wilderness, to his solitude, to the life he'd carefully constructed away from people like me.
Right?