Page 101 of Puck Your Friend

She pauses. Spoon halfway to her mouth. “Of course. How could I forget it?”

“You were carving into that old oak tree. I don’t even think you noticed us at first. Just kept working the bark with that little pocket knife. Then you heard us. You looked ready to bolt. But you didn’t run.”

She sets her sundae down. Knees drawn up, one foot brushing my thigh.

“It was my third day. I didn’t think anyone would come that far off the trail. I wasn’t trying to be seen.”

“I know. That’s what stuck with me. You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You were just unapologetically you. I’ve never forgotten that. I thought you looked cool and pretty. A girl with a pocket knife.”

She sits up more from my side, so she can look at me. “I was a tomboy who only you guys liked.”

I shrug. “The rest of the world missed out on your greatness. You kicked my ass at running and made me feel slow for the first time in my life. I don’t know if you remember, but I fell during our first race.”

Frankie snorts. “You thought you broke something. I remember.”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but I think I fell in love with you that day, and I’ve never stopped. Not for one second. I’ve never looked at anyone else. You are and always will be the love of my life.”

Her lashes flutter as she blinks fast and stares into my eyes. Her hand rests against my chest. “I feel the same way.” She leans in, kisses my jaw, then pulls back for a breath before meeting my lips.

Her kiss is slow, all warmth and pull. I match it with no rush, letting her lead. My hands find her hips as her arms wrap around my neck, fingers toying with the short hair at my nape.

She climbs into my lap. Her knees press into either side of my thighs as she settles over me. Her mouth parts again. I take her bottom lip between mine and suck. She makes a sound in her throat.

The shift in her scent hits me hard. It grabs my spine and makes my teeth clench.

I feel it between her legs, too; slick has soaked through her sweats. The heat of it presses into my lap. Her thighs squeeze tighter around me, and she leans back enough to breathe.

Her expression shifts, and she pulls back a little more. I frown, hands landing on her sides to steady her. Her gaze won’t meet mine.

“My body still feels out of control. I want your knots all the time. I’m scared it’s too much.”

I turn her chin towards me. “Love, I’m here for you. Use me up. I’ll never get tired of how you feel when I’m deep inside you, making you come.”

Then I kiss her again. Tongue sliding slow against hers. My hands grip the back of her thighs, and I pull her closer.

She grinds against my erection. My dick is already half hard. Has been most of the night. Now it’s pressed tight under her weight, and I want more.

I lift her enough to adjust. I slide one hand under her ass and bring her back down so she’s seated just right. Now I can feel every roll of her hips, every pulse of heat between us, and she can grind herself against me.

Her hands frame my face. She kisses me again, tongue slipping back into my mouth. The kiss goes on, breath shared through our noses, unwilling to break.

Her body trembles. I slide my hands under the hem of her hoodie, gripping the skin of her lower back and running them up her spine.

I kiss her harder and shift with her until she lays under me.

Frankie sinks beneath me without a word. The hoodie rides up as her back meets the layered blankets. I kneel between her legs and push it up further, exposing her stomach, then the curve of her breasts.

Her lips part, breath catching as I ease the hoodie over her head and drop it beside us. The sweats come next. I peel them down and off. No panties. Bare skin under her sweats, slick pooling on the fabric. Her beautiful brown pussy is puffy and wet, dark folds shiny with arousal. Standing, I strip as well, before kneeling between her thighs.

I reach for the tray. The chocolate sauce is still runny in its bowl, set beside her empty sundae glass. I dip two fingers in and swirl, then hold them up and let the first drop fall.

It lands just below her breasts.

She gasps.

Another drop drips lower. Picking it up, I tilt the bowl, controlling the pour. A thin line slides between her breasts, over her belly, then breaks and hits the top of her slit. Her breath stutters. Her thighs twitch. I keep going.

I drizzle another line, thicker this time, straight down her pussy lips. The sauce clings to her skin and pools in the slick already there.

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