I nod. I know if I look at her, I’ll pounce, and I want her to make the first move. I’m not sure putting her arm around my waist as we stand together counts as anything more than a side hug. “We can head back now, but there’s a great spot a little farther up the hill, about fifteen more minutes.”
Tinsley claps her hands. “Let’s do it.”
We continue hiking until we get to a flat spot where there’s a large rock, and we sit down. I offer her water as we take in the vastness of the homestead and the land. “I love it here, but I do miss the city. Maybe by the time we go back, after this mess is over, I won’t miss it. But Fog City Diner, Saipan Gardens, Soulva Greek…” I sigh. “Molly is an outstanding chef, but I miss the options.”
“Makes sense.”
I put my arm around Tinsley’s shoulder, and she leans in. She smells so good. I kiss the top of her head.
We stay like that for a good twenty minutes. I don’t want this to end, but I know if we don’t start back soon, the sun will set, and we’ll have to navigate in the dark. My backpack has a flashlight, but I’d rather not look like an idiot trying to figure out how to use it.
The hike back to the house is almost harder than the walk up, but we make it. When we enter the house, Molly’s in the kitchen. “People were starting to worry,” she says. “Getting ready to send a search party out for you.”
“We didn’t go far.” I smirk. “Just up to Bitterroot Midpoint.”
Molly shakes her head. I know she doesn’t like that I’ve hiked it, but she has to know I would never take Tinsley up that far. The trail becomes too steep if we’d gone much farther without rock climbing gear, and my goal was just to spend some time with Tinsley. What we did was perfect.
After an amazing dinner, Tinsley excuses herself and disappears into her room. I pour three fingers of bourbon over a large cube of ice and go to my room. The satellite television doesn’t have much to offer tonight, so I stop at ESPN, where they’re going through baseball scores and updates. This will be the first year since I left Vancouver that I may not make a Giants game.
I pick up my phone and text Tinsley.
Me: Thanks for today.
I wait, but she doesn’t text me back right away.
Tinsley: I’m happy to be here and happy you’re here with me.
Me: Well, I’m not with you. Molly put me on the other side of the house.
Tinsley: Are your parents or Claire here?
I sit up straight. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
Me: No.
I hold my breath, type my next comment, and push send before I change my mind or she says something that moves us in another direction.
Me: Would you like some company?
She doesn’t immediately respond.
Tinsley: Maybe. What are you promising?
My dick is instantly hard. I throw caution to the wind and take a picture of myself, sending it with a caption.
Me: To go at any speed you’d like.
Tinsley: Fast or slow?
Me: Yes.
Tinsley: Have you been with anyone since we were together last?
Me: No, have you?
Tinsley: No. Do you have condoms?
Me: Yes, many.
Tinsley: Then you better come quick, or I’ll be getting Bob out to do that task tonight.
I jump out of bed so quickly I almost trip. I run a toothbrush through my mouth and grab several condoms. My heart is pounding, and I’m ready to be with my woman.
I knock on the door, and Tinsley opens it wearing a tiny robe. I can see her nipples through the fabric. I pull her to me, and this time I kiss her, closing the door with my foot. I kiss her with all of the feeling I can muster. I want her to know I missed her. She returns my kisses with vigor.
After a few precious minutes of making out, she says, “Please, I’ve missed you.”
I lift her up, lay her on the king-size bed, and return to kissing her. As our tongues dance, she sucks on my lower lip, and my hands move to her firm breasts. I’ve missed these magnificently perfect mounds. Taking a handful, I squeeze softly while stroking her diamond-hard nipple with my thumb. She moans into my mouth. Her hands wander to my rock-hard shaft, and I press against her.
I pull away and open her silky robe to slide it down her body. I’m hungry for her and ready to feast.
I spread her dripping wet lips with my thumb and attack her clit ravenously. Her aroma is intoxicating. Her taste is addicting. Licking down to her opening, I tongue as deeply as I can. Licking and sucking and slurping her juices, I find her sweet spot and drive her orgasm home. My fingers probe, rubbing the place I know will set her off. She tenses, and I know she’s close. As I stroke and press, her body shakes as an orgasm erupts. She cries out in pleasure, pulling my head into her as deeply as I can stand it. With a final shiver, she lets me go, reveling in the aftershocks.
When she sits up and slides toward the headboard, I follow—not by choice, but because she doesn’t let go of my cock.
She finally catches her breath and growls, “I want to suck you and return the favor.”
I smile and kiss her. “Tinsley, you don’t have to reciprocate anything. I’m not keeping count.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve missed you and need to taste you.”
“Who
