Page 71 of Pieces of Heaven

Hobo tries his hardest to ignore them, but I know our fun here is nearly over. I still want to feel him inside me once more before we leave.

With Hobo already naked, I slip off my shorts and straddle him. He kisses me immediately, stealing my breath. His hands disappear into my shirt, cupping my breasts and making me squirm on his lap. I smile at his resulting groan. Never before have I felt any power over a man.

As his thumbs brush back and forth across my nipples, I take his impressive cock inside me. I tighten my pussy around his erection and roll my hips. I’m soon bouncing like a sex goddess. Hobo holds on and lets me go wild.

My body feels so alive. My skin flushes fire hot. My pussy grips his cock with no intention of ever letting go. I want this moment to last forever.

As my orgasm sparks his own, Hobo repeats my name in his rough voice. His arms trap me against his hard body. No matter what happens in the future, I belong to him right now.

I wrap my arms around his neck and roll my hips long after we’re spent. The warm day feels bearable in this tent. I inhale the Valley’s scent and feel like I’m breathing in Hobo.

“I think they left,” I whisper in his ear as he leans me back onto the mattress.

Resting on his side next me, he shakes his head. “They’re watching. What else do they have to do with their miserable lives than wait for their messiah to be born?”

“They’re going to be waiting awhile since I’m on the pill.”

Hobo grins. “I never even thought to ask.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

“Me either.”

Though many men might lie, I know Hobo wouldn’t in this situation. He sees no reason to dodge the truth.

“In a few minutes,” I whisper as he kisses my belly and rests his cheek against my chest, “can you show me around Turtle Cove?”

Hobo lifts his head and stares into my eyes, seeming wary. “Why?”

“If we just wanted to eat and fuck, we could have gone anywhere. I want to see the turtles.”

His roughly handsome face breaks into a grin. “There aren’t as many of them anymore. One day, they’ll probably all be gone.”

“But that day isn’t today.”

“No, it’s not,” he says and kisses me.

After enjoying the afterglow of a sexy romp, we get dressed and walk around Turtle Cove. Hobo is a little distant at first, returning to his normal solitary stance. As we follow Poplar River, he does reach out to take my hand.

We locate a bale of turtles huddled in an old log near the water. Hobo and I find a spot nearby and watch them. Back in the day, I’d be thinking about what happens next or what someone expected me to say. With Hobo, I know we can simply sit and enjoy the silence.

After a while, my butt goes to sleep, so I ask to walk around more. We explore for another hour before returning to the tent where we finish our lunch despite it being dinnertime. I don’t know if the cult women are still watching. As soon as I saw turtles, I no longer cared about our elderly stalkers.

With the sun setting, Hobo says, “You want to know when I’ll come around again.”

“I refused to ask, but yeah, that’s where my mind was.”

Grinning at how I struggle to give him space, he sighs. “I don’t really want you to leave me, but your place is too small, and my place comes with outdoor plumbing.”

Though I consider asking about the Pigsty, I assume he didn’t make it an option for a reason.

“I could look for a new place to live,” I offer, not even wasting time with lies about how I’ll do fine overnight in the woods.

Hobo shakes his head as he cleans up his tent. “I get squirrely whenever I’m inside for too long. Your place is fucking tiny, sure, but I’d get that way even in a normal house.”

Frowning, I try to imagine a future with me telling Hobo goodnight at the end of each day. We’ll never be able to share a bed overnight. He’ll always leave my side.

No matter how much I fight the urge to plan for every little possibility, my brain can’t help itself. I want a future with Hobo. I’ve wasted so many years doing whatseemedright. I’m ready to spend the rest of my life doing whatfeelsright instead.

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