Page 71 of Where You Left Me

“Yes, and you’ve done it. Hell, I’m sore and swollen too.”

“And so wet. I told you this pussy was needy. She’s ready for my cock again.”

“What can I say, she’s a real clingy bitch, and she’s found a dick she likes,” she says with a laugh. “As good as it feels having your hand on me, I really am sore and should take a day or two off.”

As much as I want to pick her up and set her on this counter, slam into her until she’s breathless and her legs are quaking around my waist, I listen to her words. She’s Mia. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I want to take care of her in all the senses of the word.

“I’ll take that raincheck.” I retract my hand and press a kiss to her temple. “What’s for breakfast?”

“French toast.”

“Who would’ve thought? You leave for a few years and come back as Martha Fucking-Stewart.”

“Ha,” she barks out. “There’re no guarantees it will be very good. I only cook for fun. Or if I’m desperate.” She flips the toast in the pan.

“Oh, so then nothing’s changed,” I chuckle.

She shoots me an adorable grin over her shoulder while she attempts to glare at me. It’s so cute I might cash in for the raincheck now.

“Just eat and be quiet,” she says sort of pouty.

“I can eat and be quiet, I can eat that tempting pussy and be quiet too.”

“Jones,” she shrieks, elbowing me in the chest. “All you’re getting for breakfast today is French toast.”

“Fine, I’ll take whatever you’re serving, Peaches.”

She picks up two pieces of bread by the corners and dips them into the batter before dropping them onto the pan. They sizzle and the scent of cinnamon assaults my nose. She distracts me, though, by swaying her hips again.

“What are you listening to?”

“Matt Hansen.”

“Who?”

Her brows shoot up. “You’ve never heard of Matt Hansen?”

“If it ain’t 90’s country music, I can assure you, I’ve never heard of it.” I give her shoulder a squeeze.

She smiles and shakes her head at me. “Just because your old truck’s radio is stuck on that radio station doesn’t mean you can’t broaden your horizons and listen to something different.”

“C’mon, beauty, you know me. Different isn’t my forte.” I give her a wry grin.

Mia exhales an annoyed breath. “I think you’ll actually like his music.” She takes the extra earbud from the case and goes on tiptoe so she can slip it into my ear.

I adjust it and give it a listen. She waits intently, chewing on her lower lip. It’s cute how she wants me to like it. How she’s waiting for me to share my thoughts.

For a few seconds, I get lost in my own head while the music plays in my ear. I think about a world where we could live like this. Me and her. Cooking and eating together. Sharing music and dancing in the kitchen. It’s a vivid picture. One I conjured up years ago, but it never came to fruition.

I take her by the hand and swing her around before bringing her back to me again. My arms slide around to her back, and she tethers her hands to my neck. Her fingers twirl in my hair and I lower my lips to hers and give her a drawn-out kiss that has her exhaling a moan. We dance in the kitchen for a long time, letting the French toast on the plate go cold and the ones in the pan on the stove burn.

It’s an intimate moment. But the reality is, it’s simply that: a moment. I don’t get to have this for a lifetime. My gut aches. I don’t want to let her go. Not now, not ever.

It’s probably a dumb idea.Taking the long trail rather than one of the shorter ones. With bellies full of French toast and getting away later than we should’ve, we’ll be hiking during the hottest time of the day.

But we’ve come prepared with packs full of water and all the essentials. You don’t go on a hike unprepared when you’re the daughter of Mr. C. Not only does he own Base Camp Sports, he used to be a forest ranger. He’s taught me a lot in the last few years working alongside him while we planned Bikes and Beers. He’s taught Mia even more.

It almost feels like old times, hiking with Mia. Stealing kisses every chance I get, coping a feel of her tits inside the sports bra, and grabbing her ass while she’s trekking in front of me. She makes hiking fun. I haven’t enjoyed it since she left. Hell, I’ve barely done it without her.

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