Wild Child

Cami and I are setting dishes on one long, cloth-covered table when I see the patio door open and Trick emerge.  I know Rusty won’t be far behind.  And he’s not.  He comes out next, holding a beer just like Trick. They’re both laughing at something.   I turn to face him and wait for his eyes to find me.

When they do, I feel the warmth of the bright blue orbs and I smile when he stops dead in his tracks.  Even from this distance, I can tell exactly where they are on my body.  He starts at my feet, taking in my strappy, sexy platforms.  Then he works his way slowly up my legs, making them tingle.  I can tell the instant he gets to the ragged hem of my cut-off blue jean shorts. I can almost feel his fingers tracing the edge of them, teasing the elastic of my panties underneath.  I squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache that started the instant I saw him.  No sense in getting all worked up when I can’t do anything about it.

His eyes finally continue to rise, traveling over the slice of exposed skin on my stomach to the edge of my t- shirt and then stopping on my boobs.  I see his chest rise and fall with his deep breath and my nipples pucker into points. Rusty’s mouth drops open a little bit and I wonder if he can see them through my shirt.  I’m sure he knows they’re begging for his mouth.

When his gaze meets mine, I know I’m right.  His eyes are shooting blue flames at me.  And my body reacts accordingly.

Very slowly, he walks toward me.  I can’t help but get excited as I watch him. His loose gait is like that of a lion, stalking his prey.  And I’d love to be Rusty’s prey.  For him to stalk me until he catches me, to grab me with his hands and hold me down so he can devour me.

Shit a monkey, woman!  You’ve got to stop thinking like this!

Rusty’s body is almost as familiar to me as my own.  As I take in his dark chestnut hair, sticking up at all different angles, his wide shoulders, encased in snug navy cotton, and the ripped jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly, I consider throwing Cami’s plan right into the toilet and asking Rusty to take me upstairs and let me give him a few more tears in his clothes.

But when I meet his eyes, I don’t.  I see lust there, but I also see something else. Something I know is worth waiting for.  At least until I can’t stand to wait any longer.  That alone is why I just smile when he stops in front of me.

“Damn you, woman,” he breathes, inhaling so deeply I feel his chest brush mine.

I give him my most innocent expression and blink wide eyes at him.  “What?”

“You wore this just for me, didn’t you?”

I trail my fingers from my collarbone, down between my breasts to my stomach. “What, this old outfit?”

“Yeah, ‘this old outfit’,” Rusty says, glancing left and right then taking another small step closer to me. I can feel his thighs against mine.  And I can feel the growing bulge between them.  “This shirt that makes my palms itch to feel your nipples,” he says, tugging at the hem of my shirt, the back of his hand tickling my stomach.  “And these shorts that are so short I could slide my fingers right up under them,” he says, reaching one hand down between us to barely stroke my inner thigh.  “And feel those damp panties of yours.”

I’m breathless.  Already.  And I know from experience that it will only get worse.  Rusty does to me what no one else in the world can.

“What makes you think they’re damp?”

“Because I know you, baby. I know you put them on with thoughts of me taking them off.  I know, even now, you’re wishing that I’d take you upstairs and pull them slowly down your legs so that I could…do things to you.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I whisper.  “But we both know that won’t happen so it doesn’t matter.”

“This is going to make you just as miserable as it will me.”

“Maybe.”

Rusty grins.  “Oh, no. It will.  I’ll see to it.”

I lift one brow.  “Is that right?  Well then bring it!  Touche, pussycat.”

“Touche, indeed.”

With a wink that turns my insides to mush, Rusty reaches around and slaps my butt before he moves past me, his shoulder brushing my aching nipples.  I close my eyes for a second, wondering if this might actually hurt me worse than it does him.

********

I flop down in one of the deep cushions of the patio chair.  “Phew! I’m glad that’s over.”

I hear Cami’s sigh.  She’s sitting on the outdoor sofa with her legs curled under her, leaning into Trick’s side.  “Me, too.  That was exhausting!”

“But at least it wasn’t embarrassing. I was just sure Rusty’s present would be a sex swing and you’d have to explain it to your mom.”

“Rusty what?” Rusty asks as he appears at the door, stepping out onto the patio.

“I was just telling them I figured you’d get them something like a sex swing.”

He grins and comes to sit in the chair beside mine.  “That’s why I wanted to shop for it without you.  I wanted to show you I could be unguy-like sometimes.”

“So you’re saying the wine fridge-keg cooler combo unit was your only consideration?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ah-ha!  I knew it!”

“Look, I’m a guy.  Of course I thought first of a sex swing.  But I figured some prudish old blue-haired woman might have a heart attack when it was unwrapped.  Or that Cami’s dad might whip my ass.”

“I’d gladly let Jack whip your ass for a present like that.”

“Of course you would, dickhead!  But even I don’t love you that much.”

“Well, I think you did a great job, baby,” I croon to him.

“Great enough to get some kind of reward?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I pause for a few seconds. “Sure. What did you have in mind?” I know exactly what he has in mind, but I want to hear it.  Even if we can’t do it, I still like hearing what goes on in his head.

“How ‘bout a lil skinny-dippin’?”

I perk up instantly.  Not only does that sound cool and refreshing, but it sounds like fun. Hot, playful fun.

“You’re on,” I say, coming to my feet.  “You two coming?” I ask Cami.

She looks at Trick and grins.  “Yeah, I think we will.”

“We will?” he asks.

“If you want to see me in anything less than what I’m wearing right now, then yes, we will.”

“I’m in,” Trick replies enthusiastically.  We all laugh.

The four of us strike out across the yard, bathed in warm breezes and pale moonlight.  It already looks like the perfect night for a naughty tryst, which will make it that much harder not to… indulge.  But I think Cami’s right. I think maybe this will be a good way to make Rusty see what he’s missing out on.  Maybe he’ll realize he doesn’t want to be without me.  It’s worth a try anyway.  Rusty’s worth a lot of tries.

We drop into single file formation as we trek through the woods. I’ve heard Cami talk about the pond on their property and how much she and Trick love to visit it, but I’ve never been.  When the trees part to reveal an oval clearing dominated by a sparkling fresh-water pond and absolute silence, I can see why it’s a favorite of theirs.  It would be a favorite of mine, too.

Trick and Cami drift off to one side. I can barely make out their whispers and Cami’s giggles from where I’m standing.  It’s just enough privacy for everyone without there being…trouble.

When I feel a palm brush my butt and Rusty appears at my side, I quit thinking of anyone except him.

“Need some help with these?” Rusty asks, trailing his hand over my hip as he walks around in front of me.

“I think I just might.  This zipper can be awfully hateful,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Mmm, I figured as much,” he says, stepping in close to me again.  I can feel warmth radiating from his body as though there’s nothing between us at all—no clothes, no air, no emotional separation.  Just… heat. “But we’d better start with your shirt. I don’t want to get tangled up in it as I’m working on that faulty zipper.”  His eyes