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I pulled his head close and hung on for dear life as he began to pump slowly in and out of me. Each stroke took minutes, hours, centuries, but it was pleasure all the way up and all the way down. When he was buried fully, I moaned, and when he was almost gone, I moaned. My arms were getting sore from holding onto him so tightly, but it was the only way I could ride out the waves of sensation rippling outward from where he was piercing me.

He broke off the kiss, but he didn’t go far. He kept his forehead pressed against mine and his eyes boring into me as he began to increase the speed of our rocking. Faster and faster we went, building and building, getting higher together, until sweat slicked both of our brows even though the air around us was damp and cool. It didn’t matter—there was fire just below our skin.

“Ben…” I cried.

“Carmen,” he responded. His face was screwed tight in concentration as he slaved to keep himself from going over the edge.

But I wanted him to. I wanted to feel him explode inside me and I wanted to see how his face looked when he came while we held each other. “Come for me,” I begged. “Please.”

His hips slammed against mine like a hammer descending over and over again. His cock was stiff and strong, and finally, he was there. One more stroke and I felt him unleash. Deep in my pussy, he erupted, filling me. I held him tightly until his motion slowed and eventually stopped.

Ben’s eyes were closed as he regained his breath. When it had normalized, he opened them again and looked at me. “The future,” he said, chuckling. “Who falls for something like that?” He grinned.

I nipped at his ear. “You’re an asshole,” I whispered jokingly.

Those eyes glistened with more emotion than I knew how to understand. “Yours, though.”

The most beautiful words I’d ever heard.

# # #

We lay on the bank for a while until the water had dried from our bodies. Then, reluctantly, I let Ben help me wriggle back into my wet jeans. I picked up the ragged remains of my shirt and examined it.

“Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically.

“Hey, that’s a very fashion-forward look,” he shot back.

I glared at him. “Yeah, because you know so much about fashion.”

“I was voted most fashionable in high school, thank you very much.”

“No way.”

“Okay, so I wasn’t. But I could’ve been.”

“Did you even go to high school?”

“No, but you’re missing the point.” I smacked him on the shoulder and he laughed. “Here,” he said, “take mine.” I eyed the shirt suspiciously, but I decided it would be better than nothing. I pulled it over my head. It wouldn’t be so bad to follow Ben and stare at his back muscles.

Once we were dressed, we headed out of the enclave. The boulder was easier to climb going in the other direction, though Ben still kept a close eye on me as I swung over and dropped down. The bike was still waiting where we’d left it. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the last of its rays were close behind. It would be dark soon. The warmth of the day had started to disappear, as well.

Ben was checking something on the bike when I heard footsteps approaching from around the bend. A few moments later, two people emerged, a man and a woman. They were both wearing big camping backpacks and chatting freely. My jaw dropped when I realized who it was.

Dan stopped a few yards away from me. His eyes went round. He looked back and forth between Ben and me, trying to figure out just what in the hell I was doing in the middle of this huge state park wearing a man’s t-shirt while accompanied by a shirtless, tattooed biker.

“Uh, um, Carmen, good to…see you again,” he stuttered eventually.

“Hi, Dan,” I said.

“Whatcha, um, whatcha been up to?” he asked, shifting around on his feet like he couldn’t decide what to do with himself. I could tell he was baffled. I couldn’t blame him. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t exactly have expected this to be our second encounter either. I didn’t really know how to go about explaining the situation.

“Just, you know, exploring, I guess you could say.” I was blushing a little bit, but Dan was the color of a stop sign. Next to him, his companion was doing the same thing he was, glancing back and forth to try to make sense of this bizarre twosome, though she was doing a better job at not gawking like a fool. “You?”

“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, so we’re, um, going camping. Oh, shit,” he said, smacking the heel of his hand into his forehead, “I’m sorry. This is Cassie. Cassie, this is Carmen.”


Tags: Zoey Parker Romance