Page 13 of Ripe & Ready
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, already wrecked, as I pull away from his mouth and start kissing down his chest completely drunk on the taste of his skin.
“I probably stink,” he says, breathless. “Don’t you think we should shower?”
A wince slips out as my eyes flick up to meet his. He’s not wrong.
There’s literal dirt smudged across his jaw. We’ve been hiking through the jungle all day, sweating like sinners, and I don’t even want to think about what kind of musky nightmare I might unleash if I actually follow through on my current plan, which is to choke on his dick like it’s my last meal.
I read a lot of romance books and when the time comes they always dive right in. They get to business no matter how filthy the setting. And honestly? Sometimes the setting is absolutely telling you that dick stinks.
I sigh. “You’re right.”
“We can keep going in there, though.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Let me… ya know, freshen up before your mouth ison me. I’m sure you’d want to do the same if I’m gonna eat your ass.”
I blink. “I… okay, that’s fair.”
“Exactly.” He kisses my cheek and hops up, rolling off the bed. “This is what mutual respect looks like.”
Hard to argue with that.
“Besides,” he adds, tugging off his pants, “after listening to you jerk off in the bathroom this morning, I’ve got alotof pent-up energy to burn.”
My face goes up in flames, but he smiles as he pushes down his black briefs. He pauses on purpose. He knows I’m watching and he’s absolutely milking it.
Every shift of his body is calm and controlled. He kicks his briefs aside and stretches like he’s warming up for a workout, not standing naked in front of his best friend who happens to be visibly flustered and very much trying not to drool.
He’s gorgeous. All lean muscle and long limbs, that runner’s build that doesn’t scream gym rat so much as I do this for fun. His cock is already hard, bobbing slightly with each movement, resting in a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair.
His skin is golden, deepened by the sun, but the second my eyes trail lower, I see a distinct shift in tone around his hips, paler skin where a speedo has clearly done its job. His briefs tan is... pronounced.
Apparently that’s a kink I didn’t know I had until right now.
“You’re the worst,” I mutter, eyes refusing to look away.
There’s that grin again. Mischief wrapped in affection. “And yet, you’re still staring.”
Touché.
“You coming?” he throws back and it’s a dare and an invitation all at once, then he turns and heads to the bathroom his ass on full, devastating display.
Perfectly round. Fully unfair.
Yeah. I’m coming.
Probably twice.
More if I can help it.
I follow suit, stripping my clothes and trotting along after him.
For being, technically, a hut, it’s still the fanciest hut I’ve ever seen.
The shower is open air, with no roof overhead and a view that stretches into the trees. A lattice of thick stalks lines the perimeter, forming a natural screen between us and the rest of the jungle. It’s private, but only just. The air is warm, the sounds of the forest loud and alive all around us.
There’s a single rainfall shower head hanging from a wooden pipe overhead, dripping warm water onto a polished hardwood floor that slopes down toward the edge of the platform, letting everything drain right into the jungle. Which feels both extremely cool and like a very real bug hazard, but sure. Vibes.
On one side, there’s a little wooden shelf with an assortment of tiny hotel soaps and complimentary loofahs because every hotel in the jungle is also a spa. The brass knobs beside them catch the last bit of sunlight as it filters through the trees, casting this glowy, golden light that makes everything look... borderline cinematic.
It’s beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s way too romantic for what I’m about to do to this man with my mouth.
