Page 34 of Death Valley

She drops the towel and slips on the first layer of clothing, a long sleeved thermal.

But now that she’s covered up, it feels like a grave mistake.

After what happened in the barn last night, I told myself it wouldn’t happen again.

I don’t break many promises, only the ones to myself.

My hand cups the back of her neck, drawing her to me as I kiss her. Her lips are cold from the water but warm quickly against mine. For a heartbeat, she’s still, hesitating. Perhaps she made that same promise to herself too.

But then her mouth opens against mine, and she’s kissing me back with an intensity that steals my breath more than the mountain air.

I pull her against me, her breasts pressed against my bare chest. Her arms wind around my neck, fingers tangling in my wet hair. I taste creek water and something sweeter.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Her eyes have darkened, pupils blown wide with desire that matches my own. For a moment, we just look at each other, the world narrowed to this one impossible moment.

“We should get back,” she whispers, though she makes no move to step away.

“Yeah,” I agree, equally reluctant. “We should.”

But I don’t let her go. Not yet. Not when holding her feels like the first right thing I’ve done in years.

Do I deserve that feeling? Nah.

But I want more of it all the same.

I pull her to the ground, spreading out the blanket beneath us. We collapse onto it together, limbs tangling, lips meeting again with a hunger that can’t be deferred. She twists under me, pressing up against me, and I lose myself in the taste and feel of her.

When I move down her body, kissing my way over slick skin and finding all the places that make her gasp, she pulls me with her so we’re lying side by side. Her hand slides down my chest, lower, fingers wrapping around my cock with a surety that makes my vision blur. My mouth finds her breast underneath her damp shirt as she strokes me, and her moan sends a jolt of heat through my blood.

Then she’s shifting beneath me again until I’m on my back and she’s on top of me.

Straddling my shoulders, her supple ass to my face.

Brazen, bold, and a little bit greedy.

The sight of her like this—powerful and wanting and so fucking wet—is almost more than I can take. I grip her hips to steady myself and pull her down to my mouth.

Fuck, she tastes like pure sweet water.

She cries out when my tongue finds her clit, thighs tensing around me before relaxing into the rhythm I’m setting. She adjusts herself, leaning forward, and now her hand is curling around my cock again, guiding me to her mouth.

Taking me in so deep I see stars. Nothing has ever felt this good or this right or this utterly insane.

I lose track of everything but the wet heat of her mouth on me and the taste of her on my tongue. She’s moving against me now with abandon, matching each thrust of my hips with one of her own until I’m not sure where one of us ends and the other begins.

The world narrows to sensation—warmth and wetness and pressure building impossibly fast—and then she’s shuddering above me, crying out around a mouthful of me as she comes apart. The feel of it on my tongue sends me spiraling after her, groaning into her skin as I find my own release, shooting into her mouth.

She swallows me down, but I keep coming and coming until finally I’m spent.

Aubrey moves off me, just enough to sprawl across the blanket beside me, breathing hard. After a few minutes, when the world seems to be solid again, I push back her damp hair so I can see her face.

She looks at me with something close to wonder. It makes my heart trip all over again.

Not sure I like being reminded that I have a heart on the line.

12

AUBREY

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