28. Becca
My entire body is on fire. Every touch of Miller’s hands ignites a new flame that courses heat through me, settling between my legs.
His strong arms surround me as he moves me exactly where he wants me, maneuvering our bodies until I’m on my back on the couch and he’s positioned over me. His hand skims my side while his lips caress mine.
I gasp as he bites down on my lower lip, just enough for a hint of pain to blossom before his tongue soothes the area.
Miller’s hand reaches the hem of my yellow Camp Winnie t-shirt, and I wish yet again that I was wearing something… prettier, maybe. Sexier.
But my thoughts about my wardrobe vanish as his fingers slip beneath the fabric and trace a line along my abdomen.
All of my thoughts vanish, honestly. The few times I’ve hooked up with a guy it’s been awkward, both of us fumbling while all I can think of is what I should be doing with my hands or feet or elbows.
This is the farthest thing from awkward. Our bodies know one another. It’s like a dance we’ve done thousands of times before as his fingers find the sensitive patch of skin just above my hipbone, the place where my waist dips inward at my side. His other hand cups my jaw, fingers skimming my hairline as he kisses me slow and long and languid.
We’re both fully clothed and haven’t done more than kiss, but somehow it feels a million times more intimate and erotic than a makeout session on an old couch should be.
Miller’s hips pin me to the sofa, his erection pressing between my legs. I lift my hips, needing more friction, and I’m rewarded with a groan.
“Fuck, Becs,” he says, his jaw tight. He slides his arm around my back, and then suddenly he’s lifting me off the couch and to my feet, twirling me around until my back is pressed up against the wall.
He holds me in place with one hand on my hip, the other pressed to the wall next to my head, and brings his lips to mine, harsh and demanding.
His thumb draws circles on my hip, fire blazing outward in a spiral from his touch.
When he slips his hand beneath the waistband of my shorts, my breath comes in short pants, and I’m fairly certain I’m about to spontaneously combust.
My head falls back against the wall as his fingers explore, slowly moving toward my center. So, so slowly.
I moan and push my hips toward him, needing more, but my movement only makes him stop.
Miller smiles against my mouth. “Patience, Becs.”
I have no idea how he’s holding back. His erection is obvious against his pants, and yet he’s the one taking this at a snail’s pace.
When he finally slides my underwear to the side, he groans. “Fuck, Becs. You’re so wet.”
He traces a line along my slit, and all words escape me. The world shrinks down to encompass just the two of us, just this moment.
Just the blaze of pleasure that’s building between my legs.
And right as I’m about to start begging, he slips a finger inside me, and I gasp. Then he adds another, pressing his thumb to my clit, and I’m a complete goner. I have no shame, my hips moving wantonly against him, fucking his hand.
My body tightens, the sensations overtaking me as my vision goes black and I see stars. The only sound is the rushing of blood in my ears, until his voice breaks through.
“Come for me, Becs. Come on my fingers.”
And I shatter, clenching around him, every muscle taut as I fall over the cliff.
* * *
I barely remember making it back to the couch, but as I finally come back to reality after the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life, I find myself curled against him on the worn cushions.
“That was beautiful, Becs,” he says, gently running a finger along my cheek.
I reach out, tentative, needing to do something for him too, but he shakes his head as he covers my hand with his.
“Tonight is about you.” Miller presses a kiss to my forehead, then takes my hand and pulls me to stand. “You ready?”
I”m not sure what else he has planned that could top that climax, but I follow him nonetheless as he leads me out of the barn, walking past two rabbits in a cage who look like they’re scarred from what they just witnessed.
Miller locks the barn and slides the key into his pocket, then takes my hand again and guides me toward the woods, back toward the Sports field and the cabins. The sun is below the horizon now, but there’s still enough light to see.
This twilight is my second favorite time of day, after the magic of the pre-sunrise morning. There’s an almost ethereal glow to the world as the day slips away. I breathe in the pine-scented air as we step onto the dirt path.
It has to be at least 8:30 p.m. if the sun is going down, which means campers are safely tucked in their beds. We don’t need to worry about being caught together.
The trees open up to the Sports field, broad and empty. We’re halfway across the grass when Miller stops and points upward. “Look.”
I follow his finger to see the moon already shining bright. It’s a thin crescent tonight, its white light stark against the darkening sky.
“Come here,” Miller beckons, and I follow without question as he sits on the grass and lies back. “You can see a ton of stars from here. Look.”
When I first peel my eyes away from the moon, all I see is darkness, but as my eyes adjust and the last bits of light slip away, the stars shine brighter. I try to count them.
“Look at that!” I gasp, as something grabs my attention. Miller follows my direction as I point out the shooting star.
“Make a wish.” I can hear the smile in his voice as I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing this moment could last forever.
Okay, not forever. I didn’t think I was that sexual of a woman, but being this close to Miller is highlighting some needs I didn’t realize were quite so pressing.
But this closeness, this intimacy, sitting here together in comfortable silence? This is what I want.
I open my eyes to find Miller propped on one elbow, looking down at me. “What did you wish for?” he asks. He brushes a piece of hair back from my face.
I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key. “It’s a secret.”
He gently pinches my jaw between two fingers and runs his thumb over my lips. “I’ll bet I can kiss it out of you.”
I smile. “You’re welcome to try.”
* * *
It’s well past curfew when we sneak back to our cabins.
Miller breaks the no-boys-in-the-girls-area rule to walk me back to my cabin, where Vivien is reading a book by the light of a flashlight at the picnic table.
She smirks as we walk up hand in hand. “Have a nice night, kids?”
Miller raises my hand and brushes his lips across my knuckles. “It was a very nice night.” He leans in, still holding my hand as his lips graze my ear. “I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispers, so softly only I can hear it. “Have a good night, babe.”
I wait until he disappears between the trees, heading back to the Fireflies cabins, before I sink down on the bench next to Vivien with a sigh.
“Details,” she says, nudging me with her elbow. “All the details.”
* * *
We tiptoe into the cabin, doing our best not to wake any campers. I grab my phone from the charger and slip it into my pocket as I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I left it in my cabin this morning, turned off so the battery wouldn’t drain.
I’m sure there are a slew of emails in my inbox, the usual spam that never stops showing up no matter how many times I unsubscribe.
I power the phone on and set it on the counter next to me while I squeeze a line of toothpaste onto my brush and stick it in my mouth. As the screen comes to life, there are a couple notifications.
One text message from my mom—I cringe—and a voicemail from a number in upstate New York that I don’t recognize.
The voicemail is probably spam, or a robo-call of some type. Who leaves voicemails these days?
I check the text message first.
Mom
Just wanted to check in on you. We miss you. Hope everything is going well at school.
Miller’s words from our camping trip come back to me. My parents might be disappointed in me for failing my classes, but they’d still love me. Maybe I should talk to them.
I type out a quick reply to my mom and then check my voicemail, my finger ready to delete whatever nonsense this is.
But I blink as the sound comes through, trying to make sense of it. My heart beats a little faster.
It’s not spam.
I listen to it again, my stomach doing somersaults as I wonder if I’m understanding correctly.
After a third listen, I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the time. It’s far too late to call anyone back tonight, so it’ll have to wait for tomorrow. I tuck the phone in my pocket and head back toward the cabin, my heart beating a little faster as I replay the message in my mind.
* * *
9 a.m. is a reasonable hour to call people back. It’s also really, really far away when the campers wake you up at 6:30.
With the early wake-up, I manage to get a shower in before breakfast. My hair is still wet when we walk the campers to the dining hall, but at least it smells nice.
Miller is seated at the opposite end of the space from where my table is. He makes eye contact and waves. I smile back, but my mind is still on the voicemail from last night.
“How come you’re not eating?” Lena asks, grabbing a slice of bacon off her plate and bringing it to her mouth.
I focus on the campers seated around my table, all of them hanging on Lena’s words. “Sorry. Was just distracted, thinking about some things. I’m going to grab more French toast.”
I head to the buffet, more for a break from the campers and their questions than for more food, but since I’m here I load a few more slices onto my plate along with a generous helping of syrup. My phone in my pocket bumps against my backside as I slide into my seat, reminding me of the phone call I need to make. My stomach flips again.
I finally have my chance after breakfast. Vivien and I usher the girls through the woods back to our cabin.
They have a half-hour designated for cabin clean-up, and even though some of them have only been here less than a day, this place is a disaster. There are clothes all over the floor and somehow two pinecones in one corner.
How are little girls this messy?
I sit on my bed after tidying my part of the cabin. My knee bounces up and down as I stare at my watch. 8:57.
“Dude, you okay?” Vivien gives me a strange look. She folds a t-shirt and tucks it into the cabinet next to her bed.
“Yeah.” I glance down at my watch again. “I just have to make a call. I was going to wait until nine.”
Vivien folds a pair of shorts and looks at her own watch. “It’s 8:58. I think you’ll be okay to call whoever you need to talk to. I can keep an eye on the girls until you get back. How long do you need?”
How long do I need? I have no idea, honestly. Five minutes? An hour? “Um, not really sure. Maybe ten minutes? If it’s longer, I can ask if I can call them back at rest hour.”
Vivien shoves her empty laundry basket back under her bed and reaches for the broom. “Okay. It’s 8:59 now, anyway. Go ahead.”
I give her a grateful smile and unplug my phone from the charger. I look around as I step out of the cabin. Where will I have service and privacy? Everyone is doing the same cabin clean-up.
I finally settle on walking toward the beach. Ladybugs 2 is close enough to the beach that we can see the lake through the trees, so I don’t go too far. I slide my flip-flops off when I reach the sand and curl my toes while I dial the number.
“Hello?”
My stomach twists. “Hi. It’s, um, Becca. Rebecca Patel. I’m returning a call?”