Page 99 of Whit

Page List


Font:  

“You okay?” he asks, his hands smoothing across my back.

“Yeah, just…just wanted to touch you.”

Whit holds onto me. “You can touch me all you want.”

I breathe him in, and we stand like that for a few minutes until I finally pull away. And for the first time since arriving, I take in our scenery. We’re in the middle of the desert. Large Joshua trees litter the red horizon, and small round tents surround us.

“What is this place?” I ask, and Whit offers me a small smile.

“They’re called yurts. Come on. Let me show you.”

We check in with a woman who smells a little too ripe for my taste, and then Whit leads me to a yurt at the back of the campsite with a large blue door. We have to bend down to enter it, but when we straighten, we fit perfectly. My eyes take it all in. In the middle of the room is a queen bed with a thick comforter. I sit on it and then arch my neck up and see a skylight just above it.

“It’s for stargazing,” Whit says, looking a little nervous. I stand and turn in a full circle, taking in the overstuffed chair on the other end of the space and a small “kitchen", which is basically a table with a coffee maker on it.

“Do you like it?” he asks, and I nod, swallowing roughly.

“Thought I’d be staying in a Motel 6 tonight, so this is an improvement.”

Whit sets our bags down on the chair and moves toward me.

“We can just stay in bed the whole time,” he says, and I arch an eyebrow at him.

“Presumptuous much?”

His red cheeks darken, and I pull him into me. “Just kidding. You know me. I’m down for being naked with you all the time. Where are the bathrooms?”

“Just outside. They’re outhouses.”

Now it’s my turn to be surprised because I’ve never envisioned Whit wanting to camp. Without a washer and dryer and running water.

“I know,” he says, reading my face. “It’s not really my thing, but I knew you’d love it. When my family traveled to Morocco, I stayed in one, and I loved it. I’ve wanted to come out here for a while now, and I thought now was a great time.”

“You made a good assumption. I do love it. Never stayed in a yurt before. Didn't even know what a yurt was until now."

He smiles softly at me, and I groan at that look. He looks sheepish.

This guy.

“So what now?” I ask.

Whit gestures to the door, “How about we just sit outside for a bit? See stars we can’t see in the city?”

I follow him outside, and the sun is already setting. It’s chilly in the desert in the fall, and I shiver as the temperature starts to drop.

“I don’t think I anticipated the cold,” I say, and Whit chuckles.

“I have a blanket in the car.”

A moment later, he’s back, pulling me onto his lap and against his chest, wrapping the blanket around the two of us.

We sit like that, my head on his shoulder, his hands wrapped around my torso. My very own cocoon.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I say, and Whit nods.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

My body melts into him, and I turn around, kissing him roughly. Gods, this man is doing things to my insides. And here I was supposed to have been spending this night thinking about what the hell I’m doing in a causal relationship with a guy who is eventually going to leave. And yet here I am, sucking on his tongue and letting him rub his palm against my cock.


Tags: Cora Rose Romance