Page 19 of Bountiful
I set the binoculars on the quilt and couldn’t resist stroking her hair with one hand. “That’s Jupiter. The big brightthing.”
“That’s notastar?”
“Nope. A planet. If we had a telescope, we could see some of itsmoons.”
I ran my hand up under her skirt, my fingertips skimming the smooth skin of her thigh. With any of my other hookups, this would be a Big Move. A signal. A transition from conversation to sex. But I touched Zara because I liked the way she felt under myfingertips.
The wordintimacyhad started to take on a different meaning for me than it hadbefore.
Zara lifted the binoculars again and focused on Jupiter. I was moving around too much for her to lean on me anymore, so she wriggled away from me and lay on her back, using the earth as a brace to get asteadyview.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I kissed the strip of skin where her T-shirt rode up. I nuzzled her bellybutton with my nose and then kissed my way upward, toward herbreasts.
Still focused on Jupiter, Zara shifted her hips, as if she just couldn’t help herself. She was easily the most responsive woman I’d ever fucked. To be honest—she made me feel like a sex god. Her words were standoffish, but her body couldn’t keep up the act. When she forgot to push me away, she became cuddly andaffectionate.
And I ate it up. I wasn’t used to affection. Who knew it felt so good to touch someone allthetime?
Now I kissed my way up, pushing her shirt out of my way. Wrecking her stargazing, I reached underneath her body to unhook her bra. She had small, perfect breasts, and I bent down to suck on their tips. I’d recently proven that she could come just from nipple stimulation. Or almost, anyway. I liked to suck on her until she was begging for it. Then, if I slid quickly inside, she’d come immediately, pulsing on my cock and moaning up astorm.
Hottest.Thing.Ever.
But tonight I had a different plan. Her short skirt had given me ideas, and my mouth was watering with anticipation. I kissed my way back down her belly and lifted the skirt. As I began to trace patterns with my lips on her thighs, my bare lower legs were spread out on the cool grass, and the night breeze kissedmyskin.
My tongue traced the line of her panties as an owl hooted in thedistance.
“Come here,” shewhispered.
“No. Busy.” I tugged the elastic down, but she didn’t help me get her panties off. “Up,baby.”
“You want to dothathere?”
“Yes, ma’am. There’s nobody around.” And I was hungry for it. My heart thudded while I tugged on her panties again. After a beat, she lifted her hips and let me slide them off. With a groan, I nudged her legs apart and began to drop kisses at the juncture of herthighs.
I’ve had a lot of sex in my life, in various places. Hotels around the country. The bathroom of a jet, once. (Totally uncomfortable and not a great experience.) And I’ve had as many partners and as much variety as any guy everneeds.
None of it came close to feeling as debauched as pushing Zara’s skirt up a blanket on that hilltop and then rubbing my lips gently back and forth against the softest part of her body. She groaned, thinking I was teasing her. And I was, I guess. But the truth was that I’d rarely gone down on anyonebeforeZara.
This summer had made me realize that I had less experience with women than I’d thought. Because it was anexperienceto make the same woman shudder for the tenth time, because you knew exactly how she liked to be touched. It was an experience to memorize the cat-like shape of hersmile.
It was absofuckinglutely an experience to get comfortable enough with someone that you couldn’t wait to drag your tongue across her clit while she dug her fingers into yourscalp.
The breeze whispered along with Zara’s whimpers. She fought me a little. Being hyperorgasmic meant she would often try to delay it. “It’s better when I can wait,” she’d explained once, pantingunderneathme.
But I wasn’t in the mood to wait. I pinned her hips to the blanket and tongued her. Then I caught her clit in my lips and suckedgently.
The result was a breathy cry and shaking hips. Christ, it was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard, and I nearly came in my shorts as she suddenly got wetter under mytongue.
That’s when I heardthecar.
Shit.
I sat up fast and saw the headlights of what would turn out to be a police cruiser coming slowly uptheroad.
Zara was still sucking oxygen into her lungs as I tucked her skirt into place and lifted her into my lap. I leaned her back against my chest and picked up my binoculars as a car door slammed and footsteps could be heard on thegravel.
“Evening,” the policeman said frombehindus.
“Evening,” I answered cheerfully, raising my binoculars in the air. “Is there a problem? We’re just looking at the stars here.” I looked over my shoulder at him, and sodidZara.
