“I thought we were hiking,” she teases as she settles in behind me.
“We will, but we won’t want to carry our findings any farther than we have to, so we’ll park the trailer next to the tree line and pile the branches in there.”
“You thought of everything.” She kisses my cheek.
“I might’ve done this a time or two before.” I wink.
“Take a woman out on an ATV?”
“Clear brush off the land,” I correct her. “First time doing it with a sexy woman, though.” I take her arms and wrap them around my waist, trying not to groan when feel the electricity of her body pressed to mine. “Hold on.”
I drive slowly, partly because I have the trailer on back and partly so I can feel Jen’s arms wrapped around me as long as possible. Except that sends heat straight to my dick, and I swear if her hands wander any lower than where they rest on my stomach, she’d feel just how much. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, because this is still all so new, but part of me really wants those hands to wander.
When we get to the tree line, Jen climbs off first, and I immediately miss the feel of her legs wrapped around mine, her breasts pushing into my back. She sets my nerves on fire with need, and more than anything I want to pull her onto my lap and lose myself to her warmth. Instead, I take a steadying breath and climb off the ATV.
“So, what are we looking for?” Jen scans the area.
“I’m kind of partial to branches that are twisted and gnarled. They have more character.” I grab the chainsaw and the branch cutter from the trailer and walk toward the nearest gap in the trees. “There’s a bit of a trail here that leads to an overlook. We can go off trail if we see something. We just don’t want to wander too far.”
Jen slings her backpack over her shoulder. “Okay, let’s go!”
We wander along the trail scanning for the perfect branches. Each time we find one, we lay it next to the trail and keep going to see what else we can find. I let Jen take the lead since this is her project, not because I want to watch her walking in front of me, although I very much enjoy the view she gives me.
After about thirty minutes of collecting what we can find along the trail, we reach the overlook, and Jen gasps. “This is amazing.”
We have a 180-degree view of peaks ranging from Estes in the north to Pikes Peak in the south, and just as Jen says, it’s amazing. You really can’t understand the scope of the Rockies when driving through them, but up on top of a high peak where they stretch for miles, you can get a sense of just how vast they are. Some people would say that about the ocean, because you can’t see where it ends, but Katie would always say that was actually a flaw and that you needed the depth of the mountain peaks to truly put scale into perspective. I tend to agree with her, which is why I never get tired of looking at the mountains.
“Why no women?” Jen interrupts my thoughts.
“Huh?” I snap my eyes to hers.
“Why have you never been here with any women? This seems like the perfect place to take a date.”
“I didn’t date."
“Why not?” She takes a step closer. “I’m sure there were plenty of interested women.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But I wasn’t interested in them. Not to date.”
“Why?”
“I…couldn’t.” I shrug again. One day maybe I’ll try to explain that, but not today. “Why has it been so long since you were with a man? I’m sure plenty of guys were interested in you, too.”
Jen laughs so hard she snorts. “Single dads and single moms are vastly different creatures.”
“What are you talking about?” I scoff.
“A single dad, especially if he’s sexy, is sort of a chick magnet. A single mom is a guy repellant, whether she’s sexy or not.”
“Why wouldn’t a guy be attracted to a single mom?” I frown, because I still don’t see a distinction.
“Let’s see.” Jen ticks off her fingers. “She’s too independent, she’s surrounded by chaos, she’s looking for someone to take care of her and her child, take your pick. I’ve heard it all and then some.”
“Couldn’t the same be said of single dads?”
“Women look at single dads with empathy and respect, especially if they’re surrounded by chaos. And if he’s hot, you can throw desire in there, too.”
“Huh,” I grunt.
“You’ve seriously never noticed that before?” Jen looks at me skeptically.
“I took great care not to notice the opposite sex for anything other than sex over the last decade, so no, I didn’t notice that,” I say dryly.
“Okay, fair enough.” She laughs. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.” Jen whips a blanket out of her backpack and lays it on the ground, followed by some sandwiches and chips and fruit. “I hope this is okay. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“I like food,” I tell her as I grab a sandwich.
As we eat, we talk about everything and nothing. I learn how she ended up in Denver (she followed her ex), that she’s not overly close with her parents anymore (who disapproved of her young pregnancy and then her divorce), and that the aunt she was closest to, who was herself a successful, single woman, recently passed, leaving her the funds to do the flip she hired me for.
I tell her about following in my dad’s footsteps and what it was like to grow up here. Fortunately, the topic of women and dating doesn’t come up again, because while I fully intend to tell Jen my whole history and how it affects me, I’m not ready to do it today. Today I just want to enjoy feeling like I don’t have a gaping hole in my chest, and something about being with Jen does that.
When we finish our lunch, Jen starts packing up the trash just as I spot a beautiful branch that’s dangling off a tree. The weight of the heavy snow we’d had this past winter must have weakened it, but not to the point that it snapped off. I point it out to Jen.
“It’s perfect.” Her eyes grow wide, and just like that, the caveman that had been dormant in me for years has to get this branch for the girl. My girl.
I shuck off my t-shirt so it won’t get covered in dust and grab the chainsaw. The branch is nearly two feet above my head, and fortunately it isn’t too thick because chainsaws are heavy, especially when lifted overhead. I cut through the branch and have it down in just a few seconds, and after turning off the chainsaw, I’m wiping dust off my chest when I catch Jen ogling me. My cock starts to swell right then and there, ten times worse than it had been on the ATV, just from the way she’s looking at me.
“What?” I ask.
“I know it’s totally cliché, but a bare-chested man cutting down a tree and then dusting himself off is hot.” She fans her face.
“How hot?” I start toward her, pulled by desire beyond my control.
“Scorching,” she whispers as I reach her. She takes over dusting me off, and my knees about buckle when I feel her soft hand coasting over my pecs, my abs, my hips.
Her fingers are feather light, sensual. Not the frantic groping of a casual fuck I’d grown used to over time, the touch of a lover, something I haven’t felt in years and never expected to feel again. I’m not ready for this closeness, yet I don’t want it to stop, and despite the fear that still lives inside me, I press my lips to hers, knowing that what happens next will likely shatter the last of the walls I’ve kept between us.
Jen tilts her chin up to meet me, and I wrap my fingers in her silky hair to hold her right where I want her. Her soft, full lips feel so perfect against mine, and based on the little sigh that escapes her mouth, I’m assuming she agrees.
I want to stand here lazily drinking her in, except those sweet hands are roaming all over my chest, making my cock so stiff nothing but release will satisfy me.
I find the hem of Jen’s shirt and tug it over her head, exposing a set of lush, round breasts in a lacy, cream bra that glistens against her light olive skin in the sun. “Beautiful,” I whisper as I trace my finger along the edge of cup. Jen shivers, little goosebumps ripp
ling her flesh. “Cold?” I ask.
“No. Just sensitive,” she replies, and I feel a ridiculous amount of pride knowing my touch can elicit such a reaction.
My hands fall to the valley between her breasts, and I unhook the clasp on her bra. It falls away to reveal dusky pink nipples that pebble beautifully as I slide my fingertips over them. “These are even better than I imagined,” I say, cupping their full weight in my palms. Jen moans and lets her head fall back, her breasts filling my hand in the process. I knead them gently, rubbing my thumbs over her firm nipples as her moans fill my ears.
“Those sweet moans are the hottest sound I’ve ever heard. You’re driving me crazy.” I rock my hips forward, giving my dick the contact it so desperately needs, and we both moan together.
“You’re driving me crazy, too,” she breathes.
I tip my head to kiss her deeper as I pull her body flush with mine. Her breasts press against my chest, my rigid cock lodged between us. She’s so soft in all the right places. I cup her breast and bend to take it in my mouth, trailing my tongue over the nipple. Jen shrieks as her head dips back, giving me more of her to taste. And taste I do, first one perfect breast, then the other, pulling her nipples into my mouth and caressing them with my tongue.
Jen grips my arms for support. “God, that feels so good.”
I lower her to the blanket and lay down next to her, licking and sucking as my fingers glide over her stomach, along the curve of her breast, over her arms. She’s so soft. So perfect. Her hand brushes against my cock, and I growl.
“If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to,” I warn her.
“I don’t want to stop.” She reaches for the button on my shorts, and I thread my fingers through her hair as she frees my swollen cock.
She strokes me tentatively, exploring my length with her fingers, and I lurch beneath her hand. I try to stay still, to give her the freedom to explore me as I did her, but the more she strokes me, the more my hips strain to move.
I pull her shorts off her hips and slip my hand inside her panties. My fingers slide effortlessly inside her slippery channel, over her clit. She rolls her hips to meet my strokes, guiding my fingers to where they give her the most pleasure.
“How do you want me to touch you?” I breathe against her lips. “Slow and sweet, hard and fast?”
“Slow.” She gasps as my finger lazily circles her clit. I mimic the movements of her fingers on my cock, lightly dragging my fingers over her soft, sensitive skin. She utters the sweetest sigh against my lips, and my balls constrict.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Tell me how much you like my fingers on you.”
Our tongues sweep together as we tenderly fondle one another, drawing out our pleasure. Tension fills me, and my coiled muscles ache to be set free, but I hold firm knowing Jen is giving me a part of herself she hasn’t shared with anyone since her divorce, and despite her brazen exterior, she obviously has a few scars. I get that. So I go slow, and honestly, slow is driving me mad with desire. I kind of like it.
Jen increases her pressure, and I respond, sliding my fingers inside her in long, deliberate strokes. Her hand closes around my cock, and I nearly explode. “Not yet.” I remove her hand. “I need to taste you first.”
I remove her shorts and panties and nestle between her legs, spreading them wide. Kneeling before her I trace my fingers down her flat stomach, over the neat strip of short black hair covering her pussy, inside her slick channel. Then I spread her apart. “This is lovely.” I dip down to run my tongue over her plump, pink clit.
Her hips buck the instant I make contact. “So sensitive,” I whisper, licking her again.
“Oh.” She pants, lifting her hips to my mouth.
“Hold still.” I smile and suck her leisurely into my mouth. Jen groans but keeps steady as I pull her in deeper, massaging her clit with my tongue. The urge to devour her is overwhelming, but I take my time, savoring the feel of her arousal on my lips. And then suddenly she presses herself firmly against my mouth and arches her back, moaning wildly. I cover her breasts with my hands and suck firmly on her clit as she pulses around me, rewarding me with the most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever witnessed.
As her tremors subside, I release her clit and press gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs, her hips, her belly. “That was a stunning orgasm,” I marvel, trailing my fingers over her skin. “Your breasts looked so full and round with your back arched and the sun glistening on your skin. And your pussy felt so good rocking against my mouth.” My hands continue to stroke her flushed skin, priming her. “I want to feel that again. I want to feel that while I’m inside you.”
“Yes,” she gasps.
I roll to the side to reach for my wallet and feel her fingers sliding over my dick. “This is lovely, too,” she says. I lie on my side and let her play for a while, just enjoying her touch, the cool air on my skin, the sight of her perfect little body naked in the sunlight. And when I can’t take any more, I sheath myself and cover her body with mine.
“I’ll do my best to go slow,” I breathe. “But I’m aching for you.”
I kiss her softly as I press inside and hold still, waiting for her tight walls to adjust before moving. “You feel incredible." I slide out to the tip then rock my hips forward until I’m buried completely inside her, our lips joined in a breathless kiss.
“So do you,” she whispers.
I pull back again and give several slow, short thrusts before plunging deep. “Yes,” she moans. “Do that again.”
I oblige, teasing her with short strokes between deep thrusts, trying desperately to prolong our pleasure and bring her to another spectacular finish. But my dick is throbbing with the need for release, and before long, I give up trying to go slow and pump feverishly into her.
“Yes,” Jen moans. “Deeper.”
I hook her knee over my shoulder and drive as deep as her body will allow, my balls slapping against her with each thrust. She contracts around me, urging me on, and I hook her other knee over my shoulder to plunge deeper still.
I have never been so desperate for release, but I need Jen to go first. I rock into her furiously, brushing my hips over her clit with each thrust, until I feel her tighten a fraction of a second before she falls over the edge, her pussy shattering along my length. I pump twice more and follow her into oblivion, my cock pulsing wildly inside her as I groan into her neck.
I’m vaguely aware of the need to hold my weight off Jen so I don’t crush her, but I’ve never come so hard or felt so boneless before. She’s still quivering around me as the last of her release subsides, and I want to feel all of it. When she’s finished, she lays beneath me, panting, seemingly as depleted as I am.
“Did I hurt you?” I manage, still barely able to speak, much less move.
She shakes her head.
“No? Cause I sort of lost control there."
“I like that you lost control,” she says, pulling me toward her for a sweet, slow kiss.
Yeah, my walls are definitely coming down.
Chapter 13
Jen
I finish dressing, still a little breathless and shaky from two of the most incredible orgasms I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve had my fair share of good ones. I mean, Colt had been an amazing lover, and I never had any complaints, until of course he started cheating on me. But the chemistry with Anthony is on an entirely different level, and while it’s possible my current reaction is due in part to being celibate for nearly a decade, I also know what just happened is bigger than simply ending the drought.
Anthony and I both have scars that plague us and wounds we don’t want to reopen. But by some unspoken agreement we’ve both decided not to let those scars control us, at least when it comes to the lust we feel for one another. Whether that extends beyond lust I can’t say yet. We certainly have a lot in common and get along well, but he’s still never shared everything about his wife, and I’ve never bared my soul about Colt. Both of those conversations
will have to occur if this is going to go beyond lust. But lust isn’t a bad start, and I know it’s a big step for both of us. And damn, what a step.
I like to think I’m fun and adventurous, but since becoming a mom, I’ve tried not to engage in activity I wouldn’t want my daughter doing. Having passionate sex in the woods is one activity I wouldn’t want Sawyer to engage in and something I certainly never expected to do myself. But one look at Anthony, shirtless and devouring me with his dark eyes, and my body took over. Even now, fully clothed, I can feel the heat of his stare and am tempted to rip my clothes off and pounce on that glorious cock of his and ride it until neither of us can stand anymore. Again, that might be the end of the drought talking, but it doesn’t change the fact that my body craves his with a near-carnal intensity.
Anthony grabs the branch he cut down, the one that robbed me of the ability to think logically a few minutes earlier, and starts back toward the trail we followed to this incredible overlook. “We should probably start collecting what we found so we can see what we have to work with,” he says. I swing my backpack over my shoulder and join him at the trail, where he gives me the sweetest kiss before heading along the path.
I follow along behind him, admiring the way his calves flex with each step, the corded muscles in his forearms as he carries our findings back toward the trailer. “Do you think we have enough for an arbor?” I ask.
“Maybe. I figure we have about twenty branches to work with, but I’d like to get them all in the trailer and see what they look like together before I say for sure.”
“Okay.” I follow him a few more paces. “Have you ever built an arbor before?”
He looks sheepishly at me over his shoulder. “With lumber, sure. I haven’t worked with branches, though, and I’m kind of looking forward to tinkering with it.”
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