“God! Patrick!” He was sucking her nipple through her clothes! Right now she would give her black Camaro to the first taker, if she could just feel his lips on her bare breast one time. Cupping the back of his head, she massaged the nape of his neck. As his lips and teeth worked their magic, she felt her clit sparkle to life with zings of burning delight. She needed more. Raising her hips desperately, she offered herself to him. Patrick answered her wordless cry by slipping his hand between her legs and rubbing the top of her mound. “Yes! More please,” she cried.
When Savannah sounded her passionate outburst, Patrick felt himself tremble with a deep and intense desire. Everything within him wanted to part her legs, rip away her panties and plunge into her softness. Hell! Before he lost control – he had to stop. Damn! “I can’t do this.” It wasn’t right. She deserved better than being fingered to orgasm in a public park. Pulling back, he sat up and dry-scrubbed his face trying to gain control.
So close. She had been so close. Opening her eyes, she saw Patrick looking disgusted and her whole body froze. How embarrassing! She had almost climaxed from a kiss and one touch. God, he must think she was pitiful. Pressing the heels of her hands in the blanket she scooted her whole body back and out from under Patrick. “Sorry Patrick, I guess I got carried away.” With stiff moves she straightened her dress and began unpacking the food. “Would you like cole-slaw?”
“What I’d like is an ice pack,” he grumbled. “Hell, I should have known better.”
“None of this was your fault. I knew it was a mistake. I apologize.” Damn, she had known better. Better just to get this over with and go back to her solitary, safe world. Savannah spread the food out and uncovered his glass of tea. “Do you take sugar and lemon?”
It had taken a minute for him to put two and two together. Sometimes he was slow, especially when all of his blood flow was headed to his dick instead of his brain. Whoosh! Narrowly missing the plates of food, Patrick took her by the shoulders and gently but firmly eased her to the ground. “You misunderstand, Flower.” Damn, there was dampness at the corner of her eyes. “Did you think I was fool enough to reject you?” He waited for an answer and when there was none, he crooned softly. “Not in this lifetime, Baby. I have never shared a sweeter, hotter kiss. And when I touched your body - felt that hard nipple under my tongue and caressed your sweet pussy, I wanted to tear off our clothes and push so deep into you that I touched your soul.” He kissed her face, scattering kisses over her eyelids and cheeks. “But not here – I want to have privacy and hours to make you cum over and over again.”
His complete focus on her was intoxicating. Nothing in her past had ever prepared her for Patrick. “Okay.” He was weaving dreams with his words. Whether they would ever come true or not, she didn’t know. But during that short time, while he had kissed and caressed her, she had flown beyond the stars.
Looking at her face, he was relieved to see trust in her eyes. “Savannah, I may not have acted like it a few minutes ago, but I’m a Southern gentleman. Your sexiness just went to my head. What I want most is to get to know you – really get to know you. Do you understand?”
“Yea, that means I’m not getting any today, doesn’t it?”
Savannah sounded amused, yet resigned. Patrick groaned and buried his face in her neck. “Damn, you are the sweetest thing.”
She pushed on his chest and he let her up. “I was only joking. I didn’t expect you to make love to me here. You are a chivalrous man. And you’re right, important things shouldn’t be rushed.” And some things just weren’t meant to be – that was the hard part.
He couldn’t tell if she was agreeing with him or hiding hurt from a rejection he didn’t intend. “Look at me,” he put a finger under her chin. She lifted her eyes to his. “No, look down at me.”
Savannah let her gaze slide down to his cock and then smiled a little when she saw he was swollen and hard. “You do want me.”
The surprise in her voice warmed his heart. “Yes, I do. Now, letdo.&s eat.” They enjoyed the fish and fought over the last ear of corn. “Come on; let’s take a walk for just a few minutes before I have to go. I want to hold hands.” He pulled her to her feet and they walked along the path toward the old Acadian homestead. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the heat and horror of war was a world away.
“Look at how quaint it is,” she pulled his hand over against her middle, just wanting more contact with him. Friends held hands, after all. “The farm house is a reproduction of what a typical single family dwelling would have been like around 1800.” They walked up to the outdoor kitchen where the bread oven was and both were amazed at how people used to live. Next they went to the tiny house and Patrick lifted her up on the porch so they could walk in and see the loom and the iron bedsteads.
“What’s your degree in, and where did you get it?” Patrick didn’t have to ask if she had a secondary degree, he could tell this pretty woman was educated.
“I have a
