Page 29 of Falling

“I’ve got the stuff for s’mores too,” I mention.

“Peter Winsloe,” she says with a cute little gasp. “Now I know you’re trying to seduce me. My panties are going to melt right off with all of that dirty talk.”

I grin. I can’t help it. What do you do with a woman this sassy? Never have I had anyone else tell me I’ll melt their panties off. Especially not just by offering toasted marshmallows and chocolate.

“In that case, let me get the marshmallows,” I tease back. I stand and take the bowl from her hands. Rusty left a sealed box to put the dirty dishes in. No washing for me. I love camping like this. Is this what they call glamping?

Pulling the s’mores ingredients from another box, I slide a marshmallow on one of the roasting sticks.

“Here.” I hand her the stick, and she holds it over the fire.

By the time she has her marshmallow toasted, I’ve assembled the rest of her s’more. She places the gooey mess on the graham cracker so I can squish it off the stick. She takes a bite of the concoction. I swear her eyes roll into the back of her head.

“Oh my god,” she croons, and my cock naturally stirs in my pants. At least it’s reliable. “What genius came up with these?”

“I think some Girl Scout leader.”

“Damn, I missed out on being one of those. All those cute uniforms. S’mores. Badges.” She winks at me.

“Yeah, I was pretty sexy in khaki,” I say. She grins. “You know Rand was in scouts also.”

“What?” She looks like I could knock her over with a marshmallow, she’s so in shock.

“Yep. He joined after we met at school. I was already in a troop when I transferred. He wanted to learn the outdoor skills I kept bragging about. Where do you think he learned to sail?”

“I had no idea. Why didn’t he mention it to me?”

“Do you really think Joseph Randolph would have suffered his son being a part of something he didn’t handpick?”

“No, I suppose not,” she admits. She’s silent for a few minutes. “What else have you been keeping from me? Did we have sex in Vegas and you’re just not telling me?”

“No, nothing like that happened,” I answer. I smile, trying to avoid explaining the topless kiss. She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Fine, you kissed me topless.” I’m a weak man when it comes to her. It doesn’t take much to pry my secrets out.

“Hmm.” She stares at the fire for a few more minutes. “Did my tits look good at least?”

“They looked amazing.” What? I’m not going to lie.

“I guess that’s something at least.” She smirks. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

I shrug and slide another marshmallow on her stick. She holds it over the fire. When it’s ready, I help her assemble her s’more again. She takes a bite and chews slowly. I can almost hear her mind spinning. What is she about to say this time?

Before I know what’s happening, she grabs the front of my shirt. She only hesitates a second before pulling me against her. Our lips meet, and I’m kissing my best friend’s sister. Again. This time with more than just my shirt between us. It barely lasts long enough for my mind to process it before she’s pushed me back in my chair.

“What the hell was that?” I ask.

“I’m pissed I missed our first grown-up kiss. I was curious if it was as good as I always imagined.” She’s imagined kissing me?

“Well, that hardly qualifies. I wasn’t ready.”

“What would you do differently? Because that was just okay.”

“Give me that.” I snatch the remaining s’more out of her hand and toss it on the ground. Pulling her from her chair, I slide my hands through her hair. Then my lips are pressed to hers again. This time, though, I’m prepared. My tongue traces where her lips meet and she opens with a gasp. I slide inside to explore every inch.

She tastes like chocolate and corn chips. It’s the best combination I’ve ever had.

This is nothing like the fumbled kiss in our teens. It’s not even like the topless one in Vegas. This is slow and deep. It reaches from the soles of my feet to the tips of my hair. Without a doubt, I was put on this earth to kiss Geneva. How will I survive after this? There’s no way I can go back to life the way it was.

“Wow,” she whispers, pulling back. “You definitely get high marks.”

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