Page 41 of The List
“It’s okay, I trust you.”
I feel a sharp pinch of guilt in my abdomen, and it has nothing to do with STIs. I’m not lying about that, but I haven’t exactly been forthcoming about who I am. The companies, the money, the huge house, the private jet. I open my mouth to tell her, but she cuts me off with a kiss. Her fingers are still wrapped around my dick, and my brain goes to mush again.
I kiss her back, hard and wet and deep as Cassie keeps stroking me. Her words are still echoing in my head while I breathe in the honeyed scent of her hair. Dizzy with need, I kiss her back hard and deep. I’ve never felt such a rush of anticipation. Are we really going to do this? Am I really going to be inside Cassie with nothing between us?
“Yes,” she whispers as she leans up to nibble my earlobe, though I haven’t even asked the question out loud. It’s like she’s reading my mind, which is fucking terrifying.
But terror isn’t the dominant emotion right now. Lust is. Desire. As I slide my fingers into Cassie’s jeans and between her legs, I’m hit with a powerful surge of it. She’s slick and soft and hot, and I want her so badly that I ache all over.
“Okay,” she says, and presses a hand to my chest. I’m not sure what she has in mind at first. She gives me a mischievous smile, then turns around and wriggles her jeans down over her hips. They slide to mid-thigh, baring her lush, beautiful ass to the chilly air. I place a palm on each cheek, wanting to touch her almost as much as I want to be inside her.
Cassie leans forward against the tree and braces herself on her forearms. Then she shoots me a look over her shoulder. A look that says, ‘fuck me,’ even though she hasn’t uttered a word.
I don’t need a verbal invitation. I shove my jeans down in front, letting my cock spring free into the chilly forest air. I breathe in and out, savoring the pine-laced breeze and this breathless moment of anticipation. These frozen seconds before I slide inside her with nothing at all between us.
“Please, Simon. I want you so much.”
Those words nearly send me to my knees.
But that’s not where I need to be right now. I position the head of my cock at her opening and slowly ease inside. She’s still looking at me over her shoulder, and I watch her eyes go wide. A soft moan fills the air, and I’m not certain if it’s her or me.
As I ease inside, I wonder if this feels different to her, too. Part of me assumed this was just a concession to my pleasure, but watching the look on her face as I move condom-free inside her makes me realize it’s different for both of us.
“You feel so fucking good,” I groan as I slide all the way in. She’s tight around me, hot and wet.
She grinds her hips back into me, taking me in as deep as she can. “So do you.”
I pull back and then slip in again, feeling the pressure building already. Too soon. I want to savor this. The first time being bare inside her with the walls of her sex so snug and slick. Cassie closes her eyes, and I know she’s doing the same thing.
“Harder,” she whispers. She lets go of the tree with one hand, and I watch her fingers move to the front of her body.
But this time, I want to be the one stroking her. I want to be the one who makes her come. “Let me,” I whisper against her neck.
I take one hand off her hips and slip the first two fingers in my mouth. It’s partly to warm them, partly to make sure they’re slick enough to glide just right.
The second I touch her clit, she bucks against me.
“Oh God, Simon! Don’t stop.”
I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m pounding her harder now, stroking her tight little bud with soft, butterfly strokes of my fingertips. The second she tenses around me, I know she’s close. It’s sooner than I wanted, but I doubt I could hold out much longer anyway. Not with Cassie clenched this snug and hot around me.
“That’s it, baby,” I growl. “I want to feel you come. Just like this.”
The familiar cry starts in her throat, so different from the muffled one at the club. Her sex squeezes around me, and that’s all it takes. All I need to tip me over the edge.
We come together in a hot, wet burst of light and frozen air and the muffled crunch of snow under our boots.
Or is that the crunch of tires?
It dawns on me that the buzz in my head isn’t my brain exploding, but the hum of an approaching engine. Cassie hears it the same moment I do, and her eyes go wide. We spring apart like teenagers caught groping in a movie theater, fumbling fast with buttons and zippers and layers.
I’ve just gotten my belt buckled when a mint-green truck pulls up behind Cassie’s. The US Forest Service logo is emblazoned on a door that swings wide open to reveal a middle-aged guy in a khaki uniform and a green parka.
“Afternoon.” He tips his hat to both of us, but his eyes are on Cassie. “Everything okay, here, ma’am?”
Cassie nods, looking dazed and flushed. It dawns on me the guy is trying to determine if he’s stumbled upon a sexual assault in progress. I feel a wave of gratitude, even as I hope like hell the guy gets back in his truck and takes off.
No such luck.
