16 #2
With a huff, I slip my shoes on, then notice that my hair is loose. Mitchell must have untied my braids. And for some reason, knowing that makes me all warm and tingly inside. Knowing he tucked me in makes me feel protected. Safe.
I wander into the woods, hoping he hasn’t gone too far. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, but eventually I make out the trees and wind through them cautiously, knowing Mitch is out there somewhere. I sense him, like a sailor can sense when land is near.
Eventually, I spot him by a massive pine tree, his chest pale in the minimal moonlight. A branch cracks beneath my feet, but in the peaceful night, it echoes like thunder.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warns.
“Or what?” I ask, my stomach plummeting.
“Max? Jesus, I thought you were a bear.”
I try not to laugh. “A bear?”
“Or a skunk.” His face is in the shadows, but I hear his smile. “Why are you out here? It’s freezing.”
I gesture toward him. “Says the guy without a shirt.”
“Good point.”
I’m finally close enough to smell him, the subtle hint of leather and bourbon, the beer on his breath.
“Seriously, go back to the tent,” he says more forcefully.
“Why did you leave?”
“I had to piss.”
“And…?”
“Whatever we were about to do is stupid. You and me, we’ve got too much baggage.”
“But we’re trying to get past that, aren’t we?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“We’re trying. It’s not going to happen overnight.
” Steam rises from his shoulders and I reach out, slipping my fingers over the toned curve of them.
I slide my hands down to grip his biceps and he tenses, while I release a low, satisfied moan that vibrates in my throat.
I was right—the strength in his arms could crush me, and I’m taken aback by how much I want to be crushed.
I hear him swallow. “Go back to bed,” he says, this time weakly.
“Do you ever wonder about that night? If we’d…”
“Gone for it?”
I nod, silently.
“More than I should,” he answers.
I hear the faint tremor in his voice. The thought that he’s nervous sends a thrill through my body.
“Same,” I say. I move my hand to his chest, above his heart. “You’re nice and warm.”
He chuckles. “That’s me. Always burning up.”
I shut my eyes, focusing on his heart hammering beneath my touch.
“This is a bad idea,” he warns.
I accept what’s about to happen and I am so here for it. I shrug, opening my eyes, meeting his steely gaze. “It is, but remember what you said about two people fucking because they want to? Because they can’t resist each other?”
“Max,” he says, the sound of my name a dark rumble.
I skim my hand down his chest, over the toned, well-defined grooves of his stomach, then run a finger parallel to his waistband, smiling when his flesh lifts with goosebumps beneath my touch.
I hear his sharp intake of breath as he snakes one of his arms around my waist, his large hand splaying against my lower back.
Even without speaking, I can hear the things he wants to say, but that are silenced by his hesitations.
Swiftly, he pulls me into him, surprising me, then grips my hair, tugging my head back, and our lips collide.
Our tongues meet as his free hand grips my thigh, hoisting me up in one brisk move.
I circle his waist with my legs, and he spins us around, pinning me against the tree.
The rough bark digs through my shirt into my back, but I’m too exhilarated and aroused to care.
Well, that’s not exactly true. I’m aware of what’s happening, but I’m not bothered that it might be wrong, or fucked up, or stupid and completely insane.
If anything, that makes me want this so much more.
I’m drowning in the need to have him rip my layers off, to shred my clothes to pieces.
This deep desire swallows my inhibitions whole.
I’m held up by Mitch’s body wedged between my thighs. His hands roam free. He pinches my chin and draws back to stare at me. Strange emotions emanate from his dark eyes, but they’re engulfed by heat—wild, unencumbered fire.
Without dropping his gaze, he dives a hand down, pulling my shirt free from my shorts, then slips it underneath, palming my breast, his thumb grazing over my peaked nipple. Gentle at first, his touch is cautious, as if he expects me to stop him, but I moan and grin instead.
Taking possession of my body, his touch becomes harder, rougher. He drops his eyes to my lips, bringing his mouth back to mine. We may have known each other for years, but now it’s as if we’re strangers, coming together in one scintillating, somewhat forbidden kiss.
And I’ve ached for this kiss for far too long.
Mitch is the yin to my yang. The dawn to my dusk. He was my best friend, and now that he’s back in my life, I see why I’ve been fighting him so hard. I’m terrified, deeply mortified to have to lose him all over again.
“Max,” he groans against my mouth. “You sure you want this?”
“I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”
He pairs his dark chuckle with a gentle rock of his hips, his hard length pressing firmly against my core. “I’m not talking about kissing.”
“Then what are you talking about?” I tease, smiling against his lips.
“Not sure you want to hear it.”
I tug his lower lip between my teeth, loving his growl, then release it. “You’re right. I want you to show me.”
He tucks his lip into his mouth, lowering me down until my feet touch the ground. Then, in one swift move, he grips my hips and spins me around, giving me barely enough time to lift my hands to cushion my face from the trunk.
It’s rough. It’s aggressive.
And it’s everything I need.
He pushes himself against my ass and brings his mouth to my ear, his short beard scratching my skin. “Tell me if this becomes too much.”
The words, the mystery of what he’s got in mind, shove me over the edge, consuming my body with white heat.
Mitchell hooks his thumbs into my shorts, yanking them down enough to expose my ass to the cold air, only for a second, before he palms it with his large hands. I hear his moan as he kneads my flesh.
I reach behind, cupping him, pressing my hand firmly against his hard shaft, feeling it twitch through the thin fabric of his sweats. He leans into it, then pulls his pants and underwear down.
I move my hand aside and then his hot, bare skin is on mine. Rubbing. Pressing. He reaches to my front, dipping his hand between my thighs.
“Damn, Toots. You’re so nice and wet.”
I’m about to bitch about the nickname, but then he pinches my clit with his thick fingers, rubbing his cock against my ass, and I’m too distracted to mind.
The seriousness of what we’re doing disappears in a mess of moans, heavy breathing, heartbeats, and sweat.
And I refuse to even consider the consequences.
Explosions go off everywhere. Through my brain and ears.
It’s so much to take, I almost tell him to stop, but instead I arch my back, pushing my ass into him, urging him to rub himself harder, and me as well.
The thick sound of skin-on-skin is too intense in the quiet woods, but after months of hardly any physical contact with a man, it’s also one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard.
I’m already wound so perfectly tight, I barely even need his touch, but the pressure of his fingers shoots blood to my extremities and my muscles tighten so hard that the moment he dips his finger into me, I’m done for. I shut my eyes and grip onto the trunk, its bark slicing my hands.
“Don’t stop,” I order in a raspy voice. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grunts, rubbing against my ass even harder now.
He fists my hair with his free hand, rocking his hips, slow and hard, hammering me with his finger, while his thumb works my clit.
My legs shake, my core clenches, and sparks jump up my spine as my orgasm hits.
Mitch hurries to release my hair and covers my mouth with his hand, smothering my screams, and I let myself go into a tumbling, mumbling mess of ecstasy.
A few seconds later, he comes too, his warm release hitting my lower back.
I let my head fall back onto his chest, and he holds me there, bringing his hand up to my throat, his wet thumb caressing the space right beneath my ear.
“Don’t move,” he says, and I quickly realize he’s undressed and is using his boxers to clean me up.
Once that’s done, I spin around and watch as he pulls his sweats back on, giving me a momentary glimpse of his still rigid and big dick. For some weird reason, my cheeks blush.
The guy just came on my back while finger fucking me against a tree, and I’m embarrassed about seeing his cock?
I’m so conflicted; I’m not sure if I should laugh or take him into my arms and give him my entire being.
He seems just as torn, averting his gaze to the ground, as if unsure what to do next.
The implications of the uncrossable line we’ve sprinted over hit me like a sucker punch. A deep, rattling chuckle seems to roar from the depths of my gut and spill from my lips.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, frowning deeply, clearly thinking I’ve gone insane.
“How fucked up we are.”