Page 24 of Egg Me On

I shifted slightly, testing the soreness that radiated from my ass and thighs—a delicious reminder of how thoroughly he'd claimed me last night. Behind me, Cash stirred, his arm tightening briefly around my waist before relaxing again. I felt him wake, his breathing pattern changing subtly, body tensing then settling into wakefulness.

"Morning," I murmured, turning my head slightly toward him.

His lips brushed the nape of my neck—not quite a kiss, more like an acknowledgment, and he made a quiet, content sound.

Just that. No endearment, no teasing, none of the playful banter I'd imagined might follow our passionate night. I waited for more, but Cash just disentangled himself and sat up, leaving cold air rushing into the space where his warmth had been.

I rolled onto my back, watching as he rummaged through his bag, muscles shifting beneath tattooed skin. His shoulders looked tight, the easy fluidity I'd come to associate with his movements replaced by something stiffer, more contained. My chest tightened with uncertainty. Had I done something wrong? Was he regretting this already?

He tugged on a shirt.

“Do you want to sneak up to the showers?” I asked, desperate for an excuse to get him naked again. “The guys shouldn’t be awake yet to tease us. I heard them up late.”

He nodded once, then reached for a small toiletry bag I hadn't noticed before. As he unzipped it, I caught a glimpse of travel-sized bottles, a razor, and something that looked suspiciously like more condom packets. My pulse quickened despite my uncertainty.

"You look prepared," I observed, aiming for casual but landing somewhere closer to hopeful.

Cash's eyes finally met mine, something unreadable flickering in their amber depths. I wished I knew what he was thinking — wished he would say what he was thinking. He could talk, so why didn’t he right now? Why not when my heart was aching to hear something—anything to show he cared.

We dressed in silence, maneuvering around each other in the confines of the tent. Our hands brushed once as we both reached for the tent flap, and Cash froze momentarily, the muscle in his jaw ticking before he gestured for me to go first.

Outside, the campground was bathed in early morning light, dew glistening on grass and tent fabric alike. A few embers still glowed in the central fire pit, but most of the camp remained still, tents zipped tight against the morning chill. The air smelled of pine and woodsmoke and the crisp promise of another perfect day in the mountains.

Cash walked slightly ahead of me toward the shower building, a simple cinder block structure at the edge of the campground. His shoulders remained rigid, steps purposeful, and I trailed behind, trying to puzzle out the shift in his demeanor. Last night, he'dheld me close, fucked me deep, his body making promises that his words couldn’t. He’d looked at me with naked hunger and something that had felt almost like tenderness. This morning, he was all hard edges and careful distance once again.

The other tents were still quiet, and the shower building was empty, just four basic stalls with plastic curtains and concrete floors. Cash led the way to the farthest one, turning on the water to let it heat up before stepping aside to undress. I wasn’t even sure if he wanted me in the same stall as him, not until he grabbed my arm and dragged me inside. I stripped, hyper-aware of his eyes tracking my movements as I peeled off my clothes.

When we were both naked, Cash pulled me under the spray with him, the stall barely big enough for our bodies. Water cascaded over his shoulders, tracing the contours of his tattoos in glistening rivulets. Without warning, he backed me against the cool tile wall, one large hand cradling the back of my head to protect it from the impact. He dipped his lips to my throat, his motions hungry, edged with a certain level of desperation.

“You still want me,” I whispered, and he groaned against my skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

My body responded instantly, cock hardening at his commanding tone. I turned, bracing my hands against the tile as warm water beat against my back. Behind me, I heard the snap of a cap, then Cash's hands were on me, slick with soap, sliding across my shoulders and down my spine with deliberate pressure, massaging the soreness out of my body one muscle group at a time.

“Mm, that feels nice,” I said, coaxing him to do more. I was coming to realize that I sometimes needed to do the talking for both of us, which was a bit daunting, but worth it if it got me to where we’d been last night.

He washed me with meticulous care, strong fingers massaging soap into every inch of my skin. It was oddly intimate, more tender than I'd expected given his morning distance. When his hands dipped lower, sliding over the curve of my ass, I couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped me.

"Want you inside me again," I murmured. “I don’t even care if I’m sore.”

I felt more than heard his chuckle, a brief rumble against my back as he pressed closer. One soap-slick finger traced the cleft of my ass, circling my entrance with teasing pressure. I arched back, silently begging for more.

"Yes," I hissed, pushing back against his exploring finger. "Fuck yes. You can have anything you want."

The tear of a foil packet made me glance over my shoulder. Cash was rolling a condom onto his already hard cock, his eyes dark with desire as they met mine. Next came the distinct snap of a lube cap—not soap, actual lube—and I realized with a jolt that he'd planned this, had brought protection and lube to the shower with the explicit intention of fucking me again.

"You came prepared," I said, looking over my shoulder at him. I reached back and stroked a hand down his condom-coveredcock, wishing I’d thought to suck him off before he’d rolled the condom on.

Cash's lips quirked in what might have been a smile as he slicked himself with lube, but he offered no explanation.

He pressed against me, and I guided him to where I needed him, the blunt head of his cock nudging my entrance. My body still felt open from last night, and my hole yielded to him, stretching with only the slightest burn as he pushed inside with aching slowness. I gasped and pressed my fingers into the slippery tile for support.

“Fuck, your cock feels so good,” I whined, reaching back for his hips, trying to pull him deeper. “Cash. Please.”

He gripped my hips with bruising force as he began to move, setting a rhythm that had me seeing stars. Each thrust drove me against the tile, the contrast of cool wall and hot cock overwhelming my senses. Water cascaded over us both, turning our skin slippery, adding another layer of sensation to the already mind-bending pleasure.

I reached between my legs, wrapping my fingers around my straining erection. The dual stimulation of Cash's thick length pounding into me and my own hand jerking my cock rapidly pushed me toward the edge. Through the steam and spray, I caught our reflection in the small, fogged mirror on the opposite wall. Cash's powerful body was curved over mine, his expression a mask of concentrated pleasure, his thick muscles rippling under dark skin.

"So good," he bit out the words—his first all morning, I thought—sinking his teeth into my shoulder as he curled his body around mine, pushing my hand out of the way to stroke my cock.

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