Page 28 of S'more Mountain Man

"Seemed important." My voice was rough with desire.

She smiled, a slow curve of her lips that made my heart stutter. "Very important. Though you could have just sent a text."

"Don't have a phone."

"Right." The last button gave way, and she pushed the shirt off my shoulders. "We'll have to fix that."

I should have been startled by the implication—that there would be a future where she'd need to reach me, where we'd need to communicate across the distance between us. Instead, it felt right. Inevitable.

Her hands traced the contours of my chest, relearning territory she'd explored before. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted. "Every day."

"Good." I caught her hands, bringing them to my lips. "I've been going crazy."

"Crazier than living alone in the woods already is?"

I laughed, the sound surprising me. "Yes."

I lowered her back onto the bed, following her down, our bodies aligning like we'd done this a hundred times before. There was an urgency between us that hadn't been there thatnight in the tent—a hunger born from two weeks of separation, of thinking we'd never have this again.

Her hands were everywhere, pulling at my clothes, her touch both familiar and new. I returned the favor, tugging her shirt over her head, revealing skin I'd dreamed about for fourteen long nights.

"I missed you," she breathed as I traced a path down her neck with my lips. "Which is ridiculous because I barely know you."

"You know me," I countered, my hand sliding under the waistband of her leggings. "Better than most."

She arched into my touch, a soft moan escaping her. "We'll have to test that theory."

What followed was nothing like that first night. Gone was the tentative exploration, the careful discovery. This was raw, desperate, both of us trying to make up for lost time. Her nails scored my back as I drove into her, my name a litany on her lips. I memorized every sound she made, every expression that crossed her face as pleasure built between us.

When she came apart beneath me, back arching, eyes closed in abandon, I followed her over the edge, blissfully falling into the waves of sensation that crashed over me.

After, we lay tangled in her sheets, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her bare shoulder. The peaceful silence wrapped around us like a blanket.

"That was..." she started.

"Yeah," I agreed.

She propped herself up on one elbow, studying my face. "You know, for a man of few words, you're surprisingly expressive."

I raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I can read your face. Like right now, you're thinking this was a crazy idea, driving all the way here in the middle of the night, but you're also thinking it was worth it."

How right she was, of course. I grinned. "Anything else I'm thinking?"

"You're wondering what happens next. So am I." She laid her head back on my chest, her voice softening. "I don't have answers."

"We don't need all the answers tonight, baby."

She nodded against my skin. "Stay? Till morning, at least?"

In response, I pulled her closer, adjusting the blankets around us. Sleep claimed us both quickly, exhausted from the emotional and physical reunion.

***

I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains and the smell of coffee. For a moment, I was disoriented, the softness of the bed and the colorful walls so different from my sparse cabin. Then the events of last night rushed back, and I smiled.

Rising, I pulled on my jeans and followed the scent of coffee down the hallway to a small kitchen. Skye stood at the counter, wearing an oversized t-shirt with the NASA logo and nothing else, her long legs bare as she moved between the refrigerator and stove.

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