by Iris Parker
“I was worried that if I warned you, you’d have time to get cold feet,” she said apologetically.
“You put me in charge of a bunch of rebellious teenage girls all summer long, and you thought I’d draw the line at getting wet?” I teased, ruffling her soggy hair playfully.
Emilia shrugged, and I caught the hint of a shiver running across her small frame.
“You’re cold. How about we go back home?” I asked, and briefly felt an irrational surge of panic as I wondered whether she was going to balk at the idea of back home.
“The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, putting her arm around my waist and making me feel a million times better.
“How about we find a sightseeing spot and watch them from inside my car, then?” I suggested. “That way you’d be out of the breeze, at least.”
Judging by the look on her face, she was clearly tempted. It wouldn’t take much for me to convince her, and an evening spent watching the fireworks alone with Emilia sounded like an absolute dream.
“We’ve done more than our part here,” I pointed out. “And I can snag some food and drinks to have while we relax together.”
She nodded quietly, and my heart somersaulted in my chest.
We quickly said our goodbyes to anyone we could think of, heading for my car after grabbing a few hand pies and a couple of sandwiches. Our shoes squished loudly with every step we took.
“Oh wow,” she whispered softly by my side, whistling as we got closer to the brand new Jaguar I’d rented for the entire summer. Peeking inside the vehicle, Emilia shook her head.
“No way I’m getting in that car with soaked clothes. Are those leather seats? Jeez!”
“I did bring more towels,” I said, gesturing at my bag.
“We’ll trash it even if we use them, Simon.”
“No, we won’t. And even if we did, a bit of damage is expected with such a long-term rental. They’ll fix it,” I added with a laconic smile, opening the car and spreading a towel on top of her seat. Reluctantly, she climbed in.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I got into the driver’s seat, dead-set on having an enjoyable evening in her company.
“Hilford Hill?” she said quietly, almost breathing the words more than saying them.
My heart jumped up to my throat.
“If I remember right, it’s a bit far,” I began. “We might miss the fireworks.”
“I think we have time,” she said with a slow smile. “Let’s try.”
She didn’t need to ask twice. Of course I was game, more than game. Even for someone who’d left town at fifteen and never looked back, Hilford Hill was still infamous for being the spot for lovers in search of privacy.
Turning the keys in the ignition, and in less time than it took to say make out point, we were flying past the late evening traffic.
Oh come on!
A fireman?
Really?
I’d never actually been to Hilford Hill before, but I’d heard more than enough about it while working at the rec center. It was a great hiking spot, overlooking the city in a spectacular fashion, but that’s not why people talked about it. It was best known for being so secluded, the perfect place to take a love interest at the end of particularly memorable dates.
My body was full of nervous energy, thrilled at the prospect. Just a few hours ago I’d been reassuring myself that I could never date Simon, and here I was, chomping at the bit for him to take me to freaking Inspiration Point for a little make-out action.
A whole day of fighting our urges to touch each other will do that, I guess.
Half an hour later, Simon’s Jaguar crested the top of the hill. Driving around the area slowly, we soon found the perfect spot. There had been dozens of cars in the main sightseeing platform, but a little exploration had revealed a secluded spot off the main road. Still overlooking the city, a ring of large conifers and a small gate had cordoned off the smaller area.
“This is really nice,” I said, gaping at the expanse of city sparkling beneath us. “It’s like stepping out of your cabin and into the middle of a forest. Except for those lights, anyway,”
“You don’t want the city there?” Simon asked.
“I’ve never lived in the country, but I’ve enjoyed it when I visited. I wish I had a little cabin. Somewhere secluded, to hide away on the weekends. I could bake in the morning and hike in the evening, just relaxing,” I said, shrugging. “It’s a pipe dream of course. It’s not like I’ll ever be able to afford it unless I change careers, and I like my job too much. I like making a difference, even if I don’t get paid much for it.”
Suddenly feeling quite awkward, I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned forward to get a better look. From this view, the city was beautiful. I admired it for a few minutes, absorbed by the twinkling flecks of light.
A loud noise broke my reverie, startling me and making me jump with a loud yelp. By the driver’s side window, someone was taping on the glass.
“Bother,” Simon said, rolling it down a few inches as someone shined a bright light into the car.
“You kids should know by now that this place is off limits,” a bored voice came from the other side. I squinted, making out the figure of a large police officer standing by the car.
“Sorry, I’m kind of new here,” Simon said. “And there wasn’t a sign.”
“Like I haven’t heard that one b— hey,” the cop said, stopping mid-sentence and staring at Simon’s face. “Don’t I know you?”
“It’s possible,” Simon said, his accent suddenly becoming much more pronounced. “Do you watch—”
“Rugby!” the officer yelled, hooping loudly. “You’re Simon Ferguson! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Like I said, there wasn’t a no trespassing sign and—”
“No, I mean in the States. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the World Cup?”
“We don’t start training for another couple of months. I’m always happy to meet a fan, though,” Simon explained patiently, sticking his hand out through the opened window.
“That’s why we’re going to kick your ass one of these days,” the cop babbled. “You Europeans always do things so half-assed,”
“Yes, quite,” Simon agreed, still embellishing his accent. “But again, terribly sorry about being in a restricted area. I really had no idea, but I’d be more than happy to oblige if I need to pay a fine or something.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” the cop shrugged. “I’m hardly going to give a ticket to Simon Ferguson. Besides, the sign blew down a few days ago and we haven’t put it back up. I just thought you were a local, someone who’d know better.”
“Ah,” Simon said, his facial features shifting just a little. I had to resist the urge to burst out laughing, realizing what was about to happen. The poor police officer didn’t have a clue.
“So, no one else will be coming here tonight, then?” Simon asked innocently.
“Probably not.”
“And how many other constables patrol this area?”
“Just me. On the hour, every hour.”
“I see.” Simon’s voice drifted a little lower, hints of a friendly conspiracy brewing in his tone. “You know, this is really a lovely spot. I don’t think I could find better, if we moved now. How about you do give me a ticket after all? Three of them, in fact. I’ll pay them all, and you can just skip your next couple of check-ins. That way, the city gets a little extra money, and I can get a little privacy with my girl.”
My girl. The words sent shivers down my spine, a feeling of acceptance and happiness overcoming me. An excited thrill filled me as I yearned for more, and I could feel my nipples once again stiffening to poke out into the still-damp material of my dress. I crossed my arms over my chest, blushing as I waited to hear the officer’s response.
“I don’t know about that,” the man said, and my heart sank.
“Well, you know who I am. It’s not as if I could do something nasty to the
property and get away with it,” Simon reasoned.
“That’s true, but who would believe me if I told them that it was you? I’d need some kind of evidence.”
“Ah,” Simon said calmly. “Like a picture, perhaps?”
“And your signature. Addressed to me personally, of course,” the cop answered.
“Done,” Simon said, opening the car door and getting out. The next few minutes were dominated by the officer taking countless selfies and videos with Simon, topping it off with a couple of autographs. Once he was finally satisfied, he shook Simon’s hand one last time and left.
“You have two hours,” he said with a wink, strolling out of the enclosed area and leaving us alone.
Simon climbed back into the car, a gust of cool wind chilling me as I hugged myself and giggled furiously.
“That wasn’t the first time you’ve done this,” I said between fits of laughter.
“What, deal with a fan? I can’t even buy my own groceries in England without it happening at least twice,” Simon explained.
“Poor thing,” I teased.
“Poor me? Poor you! I swear you’re turning blue. It’s been hot as hell since I got here, and tonight is the night it finally cools off? Figures. Maybe we should go back home after all.”
Back home.
He’d said it again.
So it hadn’t been a fluke the first time.
I stopped laughing, staring into Simon’s crystal blue eyes and thinking. Between suggesting we go home and calling me his girl, things really were getting serious between us.
Fast.
Very, very fast.
What would it be like if it continued? If it got more serious?
How would Adam react?
The paparazzi?
Hell, how would our parents handle the news, if Simon and I began dating?
The thoughts were terrifying, but the concerned look on Simon’s face gave me all the strength I needed.
“Let’s stay here for a little longer. I want to watch the fireworks with you,” I whispered.
I want to finish my first real date with you, I corrected myself silently.
Simon nodded slowly, a smile cresting across his lips.
“But we still need to do something about how bloody cold it’s getting,” he said. “There are more towels in the back, but they won’t be enough to dry our clothes.”
“Maybe we should turn on the car’s heater?” I suggested, though a quick look at the fuel gauge told me everything I needed to know about the practicality of that idea. Leaning sideways, I pulled the keys from the idling car’s ignition.
“Interesting approach,” Simon teased.
“Hey, I’m not the one who didn’t think to top off on gas before leaving the city,” I said. “We’ll only just barely make it home.”
Home. Now I said it too.
I shuddered, my entire body convulsing with a deep shudder with equal parts terror and glee. The implications were finally starting to really sink in.
Simon. I’m fucking dating Simon.
Just plain fucking him, too, for that matter.
“All right, I saw that,” Simon said, and I blushed dark red. Before I could open my mouth and incriminate myself, though, he mercifully continued. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.”
“I’m not sure if being naked will help matters much,” I said, relieved that he’d misunderstood the cause of my shivers.
“Like I said, there are towels in the back. And a blanket. We can lay the clothes out on the car and let them dry off for a bit.”
“Why did you bring a blanket?” I asked, wondering if he’d somehow planned this.
“Before I knew about the dunk tanks, I was planning on surprising you by suggesting a picnic.”
I nodded.
“Okay, yeah, that would help. But, getting naked in public? Really?” I asked, reluctant to agree even as the mere thought of Simon stripping outdoors began to warm me up all on its own.
“Hardly public. No one can see us, and you heard the officer. He won’t be back, and everybody else is afraid of trespassing,” Simon reminded me.
I swallowed hard, noting how the lump in my throat had turned into a boulder.
“Let’s do it,” I whispered.
Without missing a beat, Simon began to slowly peel the first layer of damp clothes off his skin. My stomach lurched with desire as the perfect bulges of his biceps were revealed beneath the dim light mounted to the ceiling of the car.
Even though the inside of the Jaguar was spacious, Simon seemed to fill the whole interior. He was tall and bulky, and straining to rid himself of the sticky material. Once his t-shirt was gone, he flashed a beautiful smile that was half invitation and half temptation. I didn’t move, marveling at the sight of him. This was the gorgeous body that had made love to me all night long, but I still was hungry for more.
The ridges and valleys of his torso looked downright sinful, and I craned my neck a little to take a furtive peek at the tattoo on his left shoulder. I’d hardly paid attention to it last night, too consumed with lust and desire, barely registering the way my fingers found a scar hidden beneath the design on his shoulder. It wasn’t until this morning, when he stepped out of bed fully naked, that my curiosity about the tattoo was reignited.
I’d been treated to a perfect view of the black ink then, spreading down from his neck to his back and all across his upper arm. I’d only had a moment to look before he had playfully thrown a pillow at me to get me out of bed, but those few seconds had been impressive. Intricate, with a modern design depicting a busy scene full of layers and complexity.
All the different lines converged together at the center of the design, depicting a figure I wasn’t quite able to figure out either then or now. It looked a little like a man, lying curled on the floor, but I wasn’t sure. I wanted a good, long look at it, to inspect every detail and every cranny, to learn the story behind each element.
Needless to say, the car’s light chose that exact moment to shut itself off. I chewed my lower lip in frustration, my eyes adjusting slowly to the dark as I tried to make out the details.
“Like what you see?” he asked with a rueful smile, taking off his shoes and unbuckling his damp jeans. I wanted to speak up, but the lump that was still in my throat caught my voice and silenced me. Simon lifted his hips off the leather seat, peeling the pants and his underwear off to reveal the tops of his muscular thighs.
The moment his clothing passed down below his groin, his cock sprang out immediately. Thick and proud, the hard shaft glistened in the darkness, and I wondered how long he’d been turned on.
Of course, I would’ve been lying if I’d said that the dampness in my panties was entirely from the water.
Simon reached over and stroked my hair gently, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he whispered. “It’s hardly fair for you to devour me with your eyes while leaving me to starve.”
“You’re not peer-pressuring me into getting naked in public, Simon Ferguson,” I teased back. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my entire body around his, of course, but I didn’t want him to know just how eager I was.
A shadow darkened his beautiful features for a second before he leaned towards me, his deep voice resonating in my ear.
“Can I lover-pressure you, then?” he asked, his mouth closing down on my earlobe and tongue lapping away. His hot breath was sending shivers down my spine as he reached his arm over, snaking his hand beneath my wet dress and squeezing my breast beneath his large palm. “Get naked, sweetie,” he whispered.
I tilted my head back and gasped, and suddenly I couldn’t rip my clothes off fast enough. I flexed my legs and tugged at the hem of my dress, peeling it off over my head in a single motion and throwing it into the back without a single thought towards the expensive upholstery.
The air on my skin felt cool, but Simon’s hot breath near my neck was setting
me on fire.
“Now the panties,” he said, and I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded frantically. Hooking them with my thumbs, I didn’t waste any time in pulling them down to my ankles and kicking them off dramatically. They landed on the dashboard with a wet plop, only for Simon to snatch them away a second later.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, my whole body pulsing with desire. I felt sexy and energized, empowered and hungry for more.
“Souvenir,” he whispered, bringing the soggy underwear just below his nose and inhaling deeply. He maintained eye contact the whole time, electric pulses running from my heart straight to my clit.
“How long have you been wet for me?” he asked, licking his lips and staring into my eyes as he spoke.
“Since the moment I landed in the dunk tank,” I whispered, my voice heavy and raspy.
“I wasn’t talking about the water,” he said.
“Neither was I.”
Simon laughed, and suddenly his lips were crushing against mine, his tongue inside my mouth, his fingers running down my back arms pulling me towards his side of the car. I groaned, shifting my weight to help him drag me over.
Soon, I was straddling just above his hips, feeling the length of his hard cock pressing up against the curves of my ass. Simon pulled one hand off me long enough to adjust the seat, both of us falling forward as it reclined back. His body was radiating delicious heat up towards me, his mouth attached to my breast and sending waves of pleasure through me.
With a groan, I reached down for his pants and slid my fingers inside the cold pockets.
“Simon?” I asked between moans as he continued to suck my nipple.
“Yeah?” he asked as he transferred from one breast to the other.
“Where are the condoms?”
“Right pants pocket,” he answered.
“That’s what I thought. There’s nothing there,” I said, both of us sharing a different kind of groan. His hand left my hip to fish through his discarded clothes, confirming what I’d just said.
“Bleeding hell,” he muttered. “I emptied my pockets before going in the dunk tank, and must’ve forgotten to pick them up with my wallet after we got out.”