Page 71 of Ancient History

I could see his whole neighborhood. I could also see the grass beneath us. Grass was not mother nature’s padding that we all assumed.

Relief washed over me when Hutch’s bedroom light turned on. He opened the window.

“This is romantic as fuck.”

“That’ll look great on my tombstone. What do I do now?”

“You need to lay down on the branch and shuffle your way to the window. Imagine that you’re on a stripper pole that’s parallel to the ground.”

“Did you really just compare me to a stripper?”

“Hell yeah.” His eyebrows jumped up, sending a jolt to my re-tightening pants. Mortal panic couldn’t even eliminate my sex drive, apparently.

I very slowly squatted down while hugging the tree until I reached the branch in question. I put out one hand, then the other, and hugged my arms around its thick circumference.

“That’s it.”

I shimmied myself down the branch, one stressful inch at a time.

“You’re halfway,” he said. “Relax, Famous Amos. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you won’t, but gravity is another story.”

Little by very little, the window got closer. Hutch came more into focus. My fingers maintained their white-knuckle grip around the branch.

“Okay, in the homestretch.” He held out his hand and motioned me to come forward.

I reached out to take it and lost my balance. I felt myself sliding down the side of the branch. I was in such shock I couldn’t react. No screams, no sassy remark. Only the realization that this was actually happening.

“Shit.” Hutch grabbed my shirt and pulled me rightside up just before I lost my fight with gravity. He yanked me forward the final part until my hands made contact with the window sill.

“What’d I say? Piece of cake?” Hutch pulled me upright. I hugged his neck as we maneuvered inside.

Once I sensed that I wasn’t going to die, I scowled at Hutch, but his sweet, scared look made all my fear dissipate. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to me.

“This had better be the most mindblowing, incredible sex of my life. No two pumps and done. I demand stamina.”

“Amos, I got you covered,” he growled in my ear. He pulled me flush against him. “Are you hard?”

“Yes. I don’t know why. Just shut the window.”

“I take it as a compliment.”

That cocky shit. Ugh, he should, too.

He whisked us into his bedroom, and I was hurtled back in time. His bedroom had not changed since high school. It was eerily intact. Memories of sneaking up here filled my head. (I snuck in through the front door, back when his dad worked full time.)

“Time warp,” I said. Hutch gestured for me to keep the noise down.

Right, the whole reason we snuck across a tree.

I ambled around the room, running my hand over old trophies and feeling the leather of his letterman jacket in my hands. We had good times up here.

Hutch came up behind me and kissed along my neck. “You can walk down memory lane later.”

He spun me around and continued the kiss from the car. I was more revved up, sparks flying through me. Maybe narrowly escaping death added to my lust.

Hutch pulled me close. His kiss was tentative, a bit nervous, which I found endearing. Our bodies mashed together, and his hardness dug into my leg. I reached a hand between us and stroked him.

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