Page 24 of One Hot Summer
“You’re a prince among men, Griffin Price.” He snorted, then climbed out of bed to get ready.
We showed up at the stable around noon, both of us wearing jeans and T-shirts and looking every inch the city boys we were.The woman at the counter gave us a once-over and tried very hard not to laugh.
“Ever ridden before?” she asked.
I nodded. “It’s been a while, but yes.”
She looked at Adam. “And you?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not unless you count those mechanical ponies outside supermarkets.”
She gave him a wry look then had us both sign waivers before leading us out back to meet our horses. Mine seemed easygoing and calm, a big chocolate colored gelding—aptly named Hershey. Adam’s was a smaller chestnut named Pumpkin, who looked like she was already plotting his death. I helped him mount up, hands on his hips, and tried to ignore the way his ass looked in the tight jeans. He wobbled in the saddle, nearly tipping over, and glared at me.
“Stop laughing,” he muttered.
“I’m not,” I lied, grinning ear to ear.
He stuck his tongue out at me, then grabbed the reins in a death grip. The instructor gave us a quick lesson, then sent us out on the trail alone, probably figuring we couldn’t get into too much trouble in the next hour. The path wound through thick forest, sunlight filtering down in green-gold beams. The horses knew the route, so all we had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride, but Adam was clearly terrified, hunched over like the saddle was going to buck him off at any second.
“You’re doing fine,” I assured him.
“I think my balls are permanently rearranged,” he replied, voice high and panicked.
“Relax,” I said. “Lean back. Let your hips move with the horse.”
He tried, but every time Pumpkin picked up speed, he squeaked and grabbed the horn like it was a lifeline. We rounded a bend and came to a clearing, the view opening up to miles ofrolling hills and distant peaks. We stopped our horses and Adam turned to me, face red and sweating. “Is it too late to walk back?”
“Way too late,” I said, then reached over to adjust his stirrups. “Here, let me help.”
I slid off my horse and walked around to his side. He watched, wary, as I adjusted the leather, then ran my hands up his calf to make sure his leg was straight. He shivered but didn’t pull away. “Better?” I asked.
He nodded, eyes wide.
I gripped his thigh, just above the knee, and squeezed. “You look good up there.”
He smirked. “You like the view, huh?”
“Can you blame me?” He shook his head, then smiled, the tension draining from his shoulders.
We rode on, slower this time, letting the horses graze as we took in the scenery. After a while, we found ourselves in a secluded part of the woods, the path narrowed by brush and overhanging branches. I slid off my horse again and tied him to a nearby tree. Adam did the same, though it took him three tries to get his boot out of the stirrup. I caught him as he nearly toppled over, steadying him with a hand on his waist.
“Thanks,” he breathed, face inches from mine.
We stood there, the only sounds the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves. I reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his face, then cupped his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. He leaned in first, kissing me softly and slowly. I pressed him back against a tree, hands roaming up under his shirt, fingers splaying over the planes of his stomach. He gasped when I pinched his nipple, the sound echoing through the quiet. I deepened the kiss, grinding my hips against his until I felt him harden through the denim.
“You want it here?” I asked, voice low.
He nodded, eyes dark. “Yeah. I really fucking do.”
I unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans down to his thighs. He kicked them off, standing there in nothing but a t-shirt and briefs. I stripped him bare, then knelt and kissed the tip of his cock, savoring the way he trembled.
He threaded his hands through my hair, holding me in place as I sucked him, slow at first, then harder, until he was shaking, breath ragged. “Griffin… fuck… I’m gonna…”
I pulled off, standing, and spun him so his hands braced against the tree. He arched his back, offering himself up, and I nearly lost it right then. I sucked on my fingers, wetting them and worked one inside him, then two, stretching him open as he moaned into the bark. When he was ready, I lined up my cock and pushed in, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt.
He cried out, the sound feral, and shoved back against me, taking everything I had to give. I fucked him hard, one hand on his waist, the other gripping his shoulder. I leaned in and bit his neck, leaving a mark, then whispered in his ear.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” I said, pumping into him. “Anyone could walk by and see you right now. See how desperate you are for my cock. How you can’t get enough.” He whimpered, head thrown back, sweat running down his temples.
