Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
JOSH
Even though we’re going to be on the clock much of the weekend, driving to the retreat center in the Berkshires with Avery feels like skipping school. Especially when she starts reading the list of activities from the retreat center website.
“Zip-lining? Go Karts? Paint by numbers? What is this place?”
“You tell me,” I say. “I didn’t make the arrangements; the mayor did.”
“The mayor.”
When I glance over, Avery’s expression matches her tone: dread. But then her brow relaxes, and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “Is that bad?”
She chuckles. “The mayor is a bit of a matchmaker.”
“Are you saying that this whole thing was a setup?”
“Welll…” She raises both palms. “Could be a two birds with one stone situation. Maybe she really did want reps at this conference.”
“But she’s also playing Cupid?” Before she can answer, I add, “But with who?”
“What do you mean?”
I glance over at her. “She thinks Leia and I are going on this trip.”
Avery laughs. “I said she was a matchmaker. I didn’t say she was a good one.”
Whatever the mayor’s intentions, I’m thankful for the result. I’d much rather be taking a drive with Avery than with her boss. Or my boss for that matter. It’s not just the anticipation of finally getting a chance to get naked with her. Just being with Avery has me buzzing with all kinds of good feelings. Anticipation, hope… eagerness to get on with living my life instead of just existing.
As we’re getting back in the car after a pit stop for gas, coffee, and a snack, Avery draws a finger back and forth between us. “We should keep this private at the conference, right?”
I sift through the many possible motivations behind her question before leaning across the console to give her a kiss as full of promise as I can make it. When I sense her relaxing, I pull away just far enough to meet her gaze, keeping a hand on her cheek. “I will do whatever makes you most comfortable.”
When her shoulders rise toward her ears, I add, “We don’t have to decide right now what to tell people. But in my book, my status isn’t ‘complicated.’ It’s ‘in a relationship.’ With you.”
Her cheeks pink up, and she grabs my face with both hands to kiss me again.
“Okay, okay,” I murmur when we come up for air. “Unless you want to make another stop at a rent-by-the-hour hotel, let’s get there already so we can make the best use of our time.”
“Fine,” she says, falling back into her seat with an exaggerated groan. “But we need to get naked the minute we check in.”
After we cross the Hudson, we take roads curving through the Taconic and Berkshire hills into Massachusetts. When we arrive at the address, however, Avery asks, “Are you sure this is it? The sign says it’s a camp.”
“The car navigation says so, but it’s not always right. Should we check the website again?”
Avery pulls out her phone and taps the link from the confirmation email I’d sent last night. After she scrolls through the site for a few moments, she says, “Ohhh, I see.”
“Are we in the right place?”
“Yep. This place used to be a summer camp. They repurposed it.” She looks out the window as I continue up the driveway bordered by forest on one side and open fields on the other. “It’s kind of perfect. I mean, what better place to learn about recreation?”
After being greeted and directed to parking by smiling young people in what I’d bet are artificially faded Camp Wildwood t-shirts, we head up to the main lodge. We’re a bit early for check in, so it’s quiet in the lobby until the woman in front of us lets out a groan. “Are ye sure, lad? I’ve been registered for this conference for months.”
The clerk taps away at a keyboard for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. We don’t have a reservation with that name. Is there a business or organization it might be under?”
As they confer, I turn to Avery and raise my brows. “Should I…?”
She nods, her grin impish. “Works for me.”
“Excuse me,” I begin, catching the clerk’s eye. “Sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but overhear.”
The woman turns to face me, her expression apologetic. “I just can’t believe they don’t have a cabin for me. I came all the way from Dublin for this.”
“We”—I draw a line in the air between Avery and myself—“have two cabins reserved, but can make do with one.”
“There was a last-minute change and we’re here in place of our bosses,” Avery explains.
“Are ye sure? Ye wouldn’t mind sharin’?”
If I weren’t already planning to spend every free moment naked with Avery, the older woman’s Irish accent would’ve charmed the room out of me. “It’s no problem.”
“None at all,” Avery echoes.
The woman darts a look between the two of us before smiling broadly and stepping to the side. “Let’s see if we can get this sorted, then.”
While the clerk and I consult, Avery and the woman introduce themselves. By the time I hand each woman a key, they’ve made plans to meet up for a drink during the cocktail hour.
“Frances O’Leary,” the woman says, shaking my hand. “Least I can do is buy you a pint.”
After studying the campus map, we’re encouraged to take one of the golf carts to our cabin, since it’s located on the other side of the lake.
“Did you ever go to summer camp?” she asks, her tone soft as we drive along the path.
“I did for a few years.”
She turns to me, brows up. “Did you have a camp sweetheart?”
“That would be a no. I was like eight, nine, ten years old.”
“You didn’t have crushes on girls back then?”
“I did. But for one, I went to a boys’ camp. And for two, girls scared the bejeezus out of me.”
“No sisters, huh? Or too many sisters?” She sits back in her seat. “Wow, I don’t even know if you have siblings.”
“I know you have one sister, and she is my favorite because she’s staying with your parents right now.”
“I also have a brother, who now owes me,” she says with a contented sigh. “And you?”
“I’m an only. My parents wanted more, I think, but couldn’t have them for some reason.”
“That’s sad.”
When I glance over, she’s squinting, her eyes likely blinded by the bright reflection of the sun on the lake. “Do you need a hat? I might have an extra in my bag somewhere. Though it’s probably kid-sized.”
She shakes her head and smiles at me, blinking away moisture from her eyes. “It’s fine.” Looking down at the map, where the clerk circled our cabin, she peers ahead before pointing to the right. “I think we’re down there.”
The cabins look rustic from the outside, but after we punch in the code and haul our bags inside, it’s obvious they’ve been upgraded considerably from the days they were chock-full of bunkbeds. “This is nothing like what my camp cabin looked like, by the way.”
Dropping her computer bag on a table behind a sofa facing what looks like a working fireplace, Avery heads farther into the space, rolling her suitcase behind her. When I hear her gasp, I rush to catch up.
“Everything okay?”
When I enter the bedroom, she’s standing in the middle of it, turning in a slow circle. “I never want to leave this room.”
I’m sure it’s very nice, but in this moment, I can only take in one beauty, and that’s Avery. Stepping closer, I reach around to gently loosen her ponytail and then run my fingers through the soft-as-silk strands. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I first saw you.”
“I’ve wanted to do this”—her palms reach around to squeeze my ass—“since the moment I saw you.”
I mock gasp. “Avery Mills. What would the Playgroup moms think?”
She smirks. “They’d be right in line behind me.”
My eyes drink in her perfect features—wide-set, glacier blue eyes, apple red round cheeks, Cupid’s bow pink lips—while my fingers massage her scalp. She closes her eyes briefly, letting out a sigh. “That feels sooo good.”
“That’s my plan. To make you feel good.”
I feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that I’m about to make love to a woman who isn’t my wife. At the same time, I know I never felt as connected to Lisa as I do to Avery right now. “You’re the first—the only—person I’ve been with in a long time,” I whisper.
She blinks slowly, seeming to consider my words. “Thank you for telling me that.”
Drawing her close, I brush my lips over hers, teasing and tasting. Taking my time for once. “I’m glad we got here early,” I murmur between kisses. “I want to go slow. To get to know every bit of you.”
“Sure you don’t want to go zip-lining this afternoon instead? Little rock climbing?” Hands still on my butt, she pulls us closer so that my swiftly growing erection presses into her cleft.
“The only zipping I’m interested in is what it takes to get you out of these clothes.” Palming her ass, I lift her to my hips. “And you’re welcome to climb this rock as often as you like.”
Groaning, she laughs at my dad joke. “What about horseback riding?”
“I think you know the answer to that question.” Before she can taunt me further, I toss her onto the bed, stalking her as she scoots across it. When I pin her down with my torso, she squirms. I push away, thinking that I’m squashing her, but she loops her legs around my thighs. “I was just positioning myself for optimum…”
“Friction?” I finish for her.
“Exactly.” She bites her lip and glances between us. “Except I think we need less fabric between us.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Levering up to my knees, I pull my button-down and t-shirt off in one swoop, but when I look down, she hasn’t moved, so I reach for her zipper. “Okay?”
“I… just…” The pink on her cheeks spreads to the decolletage revealed by her blouse. “You said you didn’t have a six-pack! You’re jacked.”
My own cheeks heat at the compliment, and my abdomen shivers when she strokes a finger over its ridges. “Working out keeps me sane.”
When I reach for her buttons, she holds up a hand. “Just be forewarned. Things are far squishier under my clothes.”
“I plan to worship at the altar of this body and its softness.” Eyes on the prize, I make quick work of the shirt buttons before separating the flowery fabric to reveal a scrap of red lace cupping her breasts. Their pale curves are so inviting, my palms ache to replace the bra. As I trail a finger over it, I say, “I’m torn here—do I want you with or without lace?”
She squeezes my thighs with hers. “Maybe you should check out the matched set before removing it.”
“Excellent plan.”
“But first, there’s the age-old question,” she says, reaching for the button at the top of my khakis.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got condoms.”
She stills, blinking for a moment, before saying, “Well, that’s good. But what I’m wondering is, boxers or briefs?”
The moment we reveal another bit red of lace on her and boxers on me, words in full sentences are no longer happening. All I can do is stroke and kiss my way from one end of her to the other. Her spine arches to meet my lips. Soft, pale skin shudders under my fingertips. But it’s the little sounds she makes that really get me going—tiny whimpers, moans, and kitten-like growls.
Once we’ve lost the final bits of clothing, I fall to her side and play while she tells me where to touch and for how long. When her legs go rigid, I double down on her clit until she cries out, release rolling through her.
Watching her come down, my palm resting on her belly, she’s so beautiful my throat tightens, full of so much feeling. Before I can ask if she needs anything, she swipes her hair out of her eyes and rolls on top of me.
“Where are those condoms? I need you inside me now.”
“Uh… in my dopp kit?” My voice goes up in pitch at the end as I try not to laugh at her commanding tone.
She rolls off me again and points in the general direction of the door. “Go get ’em!”
After saluting her, I jog to my bag, glad there’s a screen of trees and bushes outside the windows since all the curtains are wide open.
“And lube if you brought it,” she calls after me.
“Copy that.” Moments later, I’m back by her side with a handful of condoms and two kinds of lube. Holding them up, I say, “Water- or silicone-based?”
“I think water-based will work. I just want a little extra slipperiness. It’s been a while.”
She sits up, reaching for a condom and pressing a hand to my sternum. Following her lead, I fall onto my back and tuck my hands behind my head as she suits and then lubes me up. Draping her torso over mine, she balances on one arm while pressing my cock into her cleft with her other hand, rocking into me. My dick strains into her hand, begging for more, but before I can put words to its need, she shifts her hips and guides me to her entrance.
Holding my breath, I let her set the pace as she eases me in. “You okay?”
“More than okay. You feel so forking good.” Her words end in a growly moan when she lands, her ass kissing my balls.
The combination of her goofy word choice with the sexy-as-hell throatiness of her voice—not to mention the way her walls grip my cock—has me grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. I’ve never had so much fun making love to a woman. Instead of dwelling on my past, I dive into the sensation, needing to savor every moment I get to be naked with Avery.
Words aside, she’s not shy about finding her own pleasure, so when her fingers dip to her pussy, I egg her on. “I want to feel you come around me. Tell me what else you want.”
“Your mouth on my breasts,” she says, leaning over my torso.
My hands gather the soft globes, pushing them together so I can nuzzle between them before licking my way to one nipple while gently pinching the other.
“Harder,” she says, her voice breathy, her cunt gripping me, engulfing me in sensation. As my cock drives into her wet warmth, she moans and gasps and mumbles half words and, finally, my name as another orgasm rocks through her.
Needing more friction, to be deeper inside, I flip us so I’m on top. Before entering again, I push her knees to the side, so she’s spread wide for me. Just as I’m about to ask if she’s okay, she reaches for my ass to pull me closer, moaning, “Yes.”
And then I’m lost, unable to tell where she begins and I end or where the sounds of pleasure are coming from. I try to hang on to the feeling as long as I can, teetering on the edge. Wanting this to last forever as much as I want the release.
When climax comes, it’s the sweetest reward.
The last thing I want to do is leave this extremely comfortable bed, especially because the sexiest woman I’ve ever been naked with is sharing it with me. But when a notification sounds from both of our phones, Avery rolls out of the nest. When I groan, she also holds out a hand to me. “We can always sneak out, but we have to at least show our faces.”
Brushing wisps of her golden locks away from her face and cupping her cheeks, I lean in for what I truly intend to be a chaste kiss, but before I know it, my hands are roaming and my erection is back.
Until a very loud stomach growl echoes between us. “Was that me or you?”
She laughs, leaning away. “I don’t know, but I do know there’s food at tonight’s meeting.”
“I guess I could also use sustenance.”
After patting me on the chest, she takes a step back and wags a finger at me. “No more touching, or we’ll never get out of here.”
“Fine.”
After showering separately, we golf cart it to the dining hall where we’re handed branded notebooks, an agenda, and a themed cocktail called Patio Season, a blend of Aperol, nocino, and sparkling wine. “Looks like we’ve got mingling time followed by the keynote and dinner,” Avery says. “But I don’t see our Irish friend.”
I frown. “There’s a brainstorming session after dinner.”
Avery pats me on the arm. “Don’t worry, we’ve got the whole weekend.” Going up on tiptoes, she whispers in my ear, “Two whole nights. One cabin. One bed.”
I should be networking, but I just end up following Avery around. She manages to make three new buddies over cocktails, and more at our assigned table for dinner. Jealousy curls through me, not wanting to share her with these strangers, but she looks so happy, so in her element, that I tamp it down. As she said, we’ve got two full nights together.
Keynote speakers at this kind of thing are rarely worth paying attention to. In my experience, it’s either someone trying to sell you on something or an aging corporate leader who lost relevance years ago. I’m prepared to zone out and savor Avery’s presence next to me, even if I can’t pull her into my lap like I want, but the speaker’s words eventually make it through the fog of lust.
“The dangers of a publicly owned and operated organization becoming dependent on a single privately-owned entity cannot be underestimated or ignored. Because private companies are subject to changes in leadership or corporate organization, even failure, public institutions cannot rely on a single private benefactor for support.”
I’m wishing Eli were present, even as I note that it’s probably a good thing that CPR seeks other funding sources.
When he talks about the benefits of collaboration and mentions social and environmental performance, I jot down a few notes. We’ve floated the idea of using the design of Trede’s campus as part of a B-corp application. Perhaps a community partnership can be another piece of that puzzle.
He pauses meaningfully before wrapping up. “This kind of relationship should not be entered into without careful thought and planning. Plans should establish clear boundaries, build on a foundation of trust and shared goals, while maintaining openness to new possibilities.”
I glance over at Avery, wondering if she’s getting the same message I am. That we might learn some things about how to avoid pitfalls for our personal relationship here too. But before I can ask, she’s off to the powder room with a few other women, telling me that she’ll meet me in our small group session.
The session is specifically geared toward first-time PPP participants, and its leader—a tall woman with chestnut brown skin and a kind smile—encourages us to bring up anything we’re concerned about. “What you’re going through or worried about may be just what another person needs to hear,” Regina Lowell says, her deep voice a balance of command and compassion.
After a few members of the group make comments, Avery raises her hand. As she did with the other individuals, Regina asks her to introduce herself and any colleagues present and to give the group a brief rundown of the project.
Avery does as asked, but when she’s prompted to share her concerns, she side-eyes me before speaking. “There is an issue I’ve been avoiding.”
“I’d love to facilitate this discussion, if you’re willing,” Regina says.
It takes me a moment to realize that she’s talking to me. “Um, sure. Of course.”
At Regina’s urging, Avery continues. “We’re collaborating on a reorganization at our rec center, and one of the programs I run is on the chopping block.”
I can’t suppress my responding wince, and Regina obviously notes it. “Mm-hmm. Is this coming from the corporate side or the community side?”
“Both, I suppose,” Avery says with a quick glance at me. “The numbers don’t support keeping the program. It takes up a large chunk of my time, and enrollment has dropped steadily over the past five years.”
After nodding slowly for a moment, Regina turns to me. “Can I assume that you’ve been part of the discussion?”
“Yes,” I say, wishing I’d made time to tell Avery my plan for Playgroup. “The budget is tight as it is, and there are some disagreements among stakeholders regarding prioritization.”
“Always a challenge,” Regina allows.
“But there are positives to Playgroup that you can’t see in the numbers,” Avery argues. “That you’ve experienced personally.”
After teasing out the details of my experience and getting more input from Avery, Regina turns to the large pad of paper resting on an easel next to her and uncaps a magic marker.
“Let’s make a list.” She circles a finger around the room. “Working together, we might be able to find other ways to foster these elements.”
Other members of the group begin throwing out ideas and Regina writes them down as she encourages us. “There are no dumb or wrong answers in this room.”
“I also want to say that I’ve resisted cutting it because my mother started the program,” Avery says at some point. “She’s no longer able to lead it due to health issues.”
“Personal attachment can make discussing change difficult.” Regina gives Avery an empathetic smile, before turning back to the group. “Perhaps we can find a way to hang on to the spirit of the program without bringing down the whole ship. To mix metaphors horribly.”
“We should also consider…” The woman looks back and forth between me and Avery. “That as you’re a couple on either side of this fence, as it were, that can bring additional challenges.”
“Oh, we’re—” Avery begins.
“Well aware of the challenges,” I cut in, taking her hand. Avery’s eyes narrow slightly, maybe trying to figure out what I’m up to. I’m not sure why I just outed us in front of these strangers, but I bring her hand to my lips for a quick kiss, hoping she’s okay with it. “But we both want what’s best for the community.”
“And that’s why we’re here.” Regina taps the easel. “Our goal is to create a sustainable architecture, so Climax Parks and Rec is not dependent on Trede in the long term. On the other hand, we want Trede and its stakeholders to feel their investment is being put to use wisely. And inclusively.”
I’m pretty sure Trede’s primary stakeholder wouldn’t put it that way, but I would, so I nod. “I’m open to all suggestions. I want to make this work.”