Page 116 of The Beekeeper

She closes her eyes to daydream while I get to work. I could spend days at this, making sure I get every line right, but there’s only so long I can ask her to sit naked in the cool forest. Once I have the larger picture, I can add more detail later from memory. She’s not easily forgotten.

An hour slips past and I’m just about to ask her if she wants to stop when a rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. I quickly tuck the sketchbook into a plastic bag then back into my backpack and leave it under the tree.

She sits up as I approach her. “We can head back and?—”

“Absolutely not. A deal’s a deal, sweetheart.” This is how we always do it. I draw her, and then we fuck each other with all of nature watching.

A curse leaps out of her when I bury my face between her legs. “Arlow, fuck!” Her hands grip my hair, tugging it as I lick and suck at her clit until she’s trembling under me. Her cry of pleasure echoes through the trees, stolen away by the increasing wind.

She grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it off as soon as I sit up, then unfastens my jeans. I yank them off along with my underwear, tossing it all aside. Her fingertip brushes over my tattoo, gently tracing the dark, bare tree branches. She leans forward to press a kiss to the one bright peach inked over my heart. It’s been there for over nine years now, but her reaction is always the same. That soft, sweet kiss.

Then she shoves me so I’m sitting with my back to the boulder, climbs onto my lap and sinks down onto my cock with a groan. A few sprinkles give a brief warning before the sky opens up and rain douses us as she rides me. October rain isn’t the warmest, but she doesn’t stop.

Her soaked hair clings to her face as she leans forward to kiss me then puts her lips to my ear. “I’m so close. Come with me.”

“Yes, oh fuck.” My head falls back, giving me a look at the tree branches swaying against the cloudy gray. The sky, her cries, the warmth of her skin, and the feeling that drags me under until I can comprehend none of it, I’m drowning in the sensation of it all.

We hold each other for a moment, our bodies pressed together as we catch our breath. “Fuck, that was good,” I sigh.

Calli sits back and grins at me. “Definitely some of our best work.”

The rain hasn’t let up and she’s starting to shiver. “Come on. Let’s go home and get you warmed up.”

The walk back is rushed. We keep glancing at each other and laughing at our chattering teeth. The hot shower we share putsan end to that, and we end up on our front porch, sitting on the glider painted with songbirds.

I throw a blanket around us, and she tucks in close to my side. We curl up together, warm and content, watching the storm move away.

THE END

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