Chapter 5 #2
Nobody has ever said this to me. Nobody has ever watched me and seen it as something worth watching.
I lower the phone. “That’s a very specific observation.”
“I’m a very observant person.”
“Since when?”
“Since about four days ago.”
I’m framing a shot of the boulders with the cascade behind them and I turn to show him the angle I’ve found.
He’s right there.
Not across the boulder. Not on the blanket. Close enough that I can see the spray on his arms and the way his t-shirt clings where the mist has dampened it.
“Good shot?” he asks.
“I was going to show you.”
“Show me.”
I hold up the phone. He doesn’t look at it. His hand comes up and takes it out of my fingers and sets it on the rock behind him. His other hand is on my waist.
“That’s my phone.”
“It’ll be there in a minute.”
He kisses me. Not like last night. Last night was a man making a decision.
This is a man who already decided and isn’t careful about it anymore.
His mouth is on mine. His hands on my waist. He pulls me against him and I feel the full length of his body against mine.
Sun hot on my shoulders. Cold spray on my neck.
I stop thinking.
I don’t stop thinking. I plan. I organize. I manage. I run projections while the moment is still happening. But his thumbs brush the skin under the hem of my tank top and my brain goes dark like someone hit a switch.
He steps backward, grinning as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. “Water looks good,” he says, voice rough. “You in?”
I nod before I can overthink it. He strips first, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
Sunlight catches on the hard lines of his chest and the cut of his abs, every muscle earned from years of hard work.
When his shorts drop, he’s left in nothing but black boxer briefs that cling to the thick, unmistakable shape of him.
My mouth goes dry. He’s beautiful. Broad shoulders, powerful thighs, all of it.
Something bold rises in me. I peel off my own clothes, letting the white lace bra and matching thong come into view. His gaze tracks every inch of skin I reveal. I don’t look away.
We dive in together.
We come up splashing each other, laughing, but the laughter fades when he draws me closer. My legs wrap around his waist again, and the hard press of him against my core makes me gasp.
“Feel that, trouble?” he asks quietly, lips brushing my ear. “That’s what you do to me.”
I rock my hips once, just enough to feel the full length of him. “Levi…”
He kisses me again, slower this time, tongues sliding together as the water moves around us. One of his hands slips between us. He traces the edge of my thong with his fingers.
“Tell me if I should stop,” he murmurs against my mouth.
He pushes the thin fabric aside and runs two fingers against me. He circles my clit first, slow and deliberate, watching my face the whole time. “Tell me what feels good.”
“Right there,” I whisper. “Just like that.”
He keeps the pressure steady, then sinks one thick finger inside me. I moan softly. He adds a second finger after a few strokes, stretching me gently while his thumb keeps working my clit. The water ripples with every movement of his hand.
“You’re so tight,” he says, voice rough. “I can feel you clenching around me.”
I lean back in his arms, trusting him to hold me up.
He lowers his mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking lightly as his fingers move faster.
Pleasure builds in slow, rolling waves until it crests hard.
My thighs shake around his waist and I come with a broken cry, pulsing around his fingers while he murmurs, “That’s it… let me see you fall apart.”
When I finally catch my breath, Levi carries me out of the water. He lays me gently on the blanket spread across the warm boulder and positions himself over me, bracing on his forearms. For a moment he just looks at me, water still beading on his skin.
Then he leans down and kisses me again: slow, deep, and unhurried.
His mouth moves over mine like he’s savoring it.
After a while he begins to trail lower, pressing kisses along my jaw, then down the column of my throat.
His lips continue their path across my collarbone and over the swell of my breasts, still covered by the white lace bra.
He pauses there, fingers slipping behind my back. “Can I take this off?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He unclasps the bra and slides it off, tossing it aside.
His gaze darkens as he takes in my bare breasts.
He lowers his head and kisses the soft skin, then closes his mouth over one nipple, sucking gently.
His tongue flicks over the sensitive peak before he moves to the other breast, giving it the same slow, thorough attention.
I arch beneath him, fingers sliding into his hair as he teases and tastes.
Only after he’s thoroughly kissed and sucked both breasts does he continue downward. He presses open-mouthed kisses along my stomach, then settles between my thighs. His hands slide up the inside of my legs, parting them wider.
“I want to taste you,” he says.
I spread my thighs in reply.
He removes my thong, then lowers his head. His tongue drags slowly through my core, tasting me with long, unhurried licks before focusing on my clit. Two fingers slide back inside me at the same time, moving in a steady rhythm that matches his mouth.
“God, you taste good,” he murmurs against me, the vibration making me shiver. He sucks gently on my clit, then flattens his tongue and licks again, slower, like he’s in no hurry at all.
I thread my fingers through his hair, hips lifting toward his mouth. He curls his fingers inside me, finding that spot that makes my toes curl, and keeps going—licking, sucking, thrusting—until another orgasm builds, deeper and slower than the first.
When it finally breaks, my whole body goes liquid and I’m saying things I don’t track. His name. Words that aren’t words. Sounds that the waterfall swallows and I don’t try to stop.
He stays there. Forehead against my thigh. Hand on my hip, thumb tracing a slow circle. Both of us breathing hard. The waterfall fills the quiet as he kisses his way back up my body.
I reach for the hard length of him.
He catches my hand. Brings it to his mouth. Kisses my knuckles.
“Not today,” he says. His voice is rough. “This one’s yours.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Didn’t say it was fair. Said it’s yours. You’ve given me everything I wanted.”
He looks up at me with an expression I have never seen on a man’s face. Not smug. Full. Like giving me this filled something in him he didn’t know was empty.
I don’t have a plan for this. I don’t have a response or a comeback or a next step. I lie on a boulder in the sun with a waterfall behind me and look at a man who just took me apart twice and asked for nothing.
Oh.
Oh, I’m in so much trouble.
~~~
The drive back is quiet. The good kind. His hand on my knee. My hand on top of his. The truck smells like pine. The mountain is gold in the late light.
He pulls up to the cabin. The van is there.
He looks at me. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’ll text you.”
“You’d better.”
He leans across the console and kisses me. Slow. Gentle. Different from the waterfall. Like he’s placing a bookmark in something he doesn’t want to lose.
I get out and walk to the door. Look back. He’s watching me. I wave. He waves. I go inside.