Pucked Up

“I want the same.” I move my fingers faster and circle her clit with my thumb, trying extra hard to get her off. I don’t want to leave her hanging before I propose going back to the cottage to finish things.

I go with some toned-down dirty talk, because it might help me get her there quicker. “All I could think about this week was how good it was go

She moans and grinds herself harder on my hand.

“I love those sounds you make when you’re getting close, and how soft your mouth is, and that thing you do with your tongue when we’re kissing. I wish you could see how amazing you look, naked like this, ready to come on my fingers. When we get back to the cottage I’m go

Su

Su

“I’ll be whatever kind of soulmate you want, Su

“Uh-huh.”

I slowly withdraw my hand, sad that I’m not going to be putting another part of my body into all that tight, warm, and wet. Usually I’m sly about wiping my hand on the sheets, or in the case of immediate post-fingering sex, using it to lube up my dick before I roll on a condom. Here all I have is the log and some moss to work with, neither of which is very covert. Once we’re dressed I can always wash them in the lake, I guess.

Su

“Sweets, we’re go

“Why? You haven’t come yet, and you look like you need to.”

This is true. I definitely need to come. The head of my cock is almost purple. All this holding off and waiting after the week I had is making my balls explosive.

“I don’t have a condom with me.”

“Oh.” Her face falls.

This makes me want to engage in bad decisions. “They’re in my bag, back at the car.”

She tells me what I already know. “I’m on the pill.”

“I get that . . .”

“And I’m good about taking it.”

“That’s great, but—”

“You could pull out. Then you don’t have to worry.”

Maybe we are orgasm soulmates, as she’s read my mind. It’s difficult to be rational with Su

“Or we could go anal.”

She says it flippantly. There isn’t even a hint of smile or that devious twinkle in her eye.

Here’s the thing about a proposition such as this: every guy, I don’t care who he is, wants to go where no man has gone before—or in Su

“Uh . . .”

Su

“You know . . .” I squeeze her ass. “You do an awful lot of joking about me getting in your ass.”

“This the only time I’ve joked about it. Last time I thought you were pulling a sneak attack.” She does the slip ‘n’ slide with my cock again. This time she sinks down a couple of inches. I watch the head disappear inside her.

“Su

“You made me feel good. Why can’t we feel good together?”

I should be more responsible, but I don’t want to. I let her sink all the way down until her ass is resting on my thighs. She starts with the hip swivels. I want to say it’s awesome, and it is because it’s Su

“Why is it always so good with you?” She pushes her tongue past my lips, making it impossible to answer.

I know exactly what she means. It’s better with Su

I’m holding off, trying my best to wait until the magic has happened before I let the ca

The orgasm is like an atomic detonation. It’s a week of pent-up insecurity, anger, frustration, and missed whack-off sessions rolled together with an argument and making up. Plus a spider bite. It feels good, and it hurts like hell at the same time. I’m panting and sweaty, but I feel a whole lot better when it’s over. Su

“Is sex always supposed to be this awesome?”

“I don’t know. I guess it won’t be this awesome when we’re eighty, but for now, sure.”

“Now I get why people want to have it all the time.”

I rub her back. I feel bad that Su

“We should probably get back to the cottage before Lily murders Randy, or Randy murders Bushman,” I mumble into her neck.

“Bushman?”

“Sorry. Kale.”

“Oh.” Su

I pick up the end of the thin braid hanging in her face and brush the ends over my lips in contemplation. “I want this to be fun, not scary.” I put a hand over her heart. It also means I’m palming her boob. “I’m go

It’s the closest I’ll get to telling her how I feel about her. For now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THAT GIRL IS POISON

I help Su

“That isn’t poison ivy, is it?” I point to the plants her bikini top was lying on.

She barely glances at them. “It’s Virginia Creeper. They look a lot alike.”

The Boy Scout in me wants to question that, but she’s been up here enough to know the difference. She ties the string behind her back and adjusts the cups so they cover her nipples.

My clothes didn’t get too dirty, thanks to the moss. My shorts are damp, probably from the sex, even though it was tame. I’ll have to change when we get back to the cottage either way. My shirt is in far worse shape. When I aimed my jizz away from Su