by Anh Leod
“Oh?”
“I like your Celilo,” Jem said, smirking.
She slapped his shoulder, blushing. “I’m not a rock.”
“But you certainly have a luscious cleft. I’d love to nibble on it right now.”
“Hmmm.” Her cleft tingled a bit at his words.
The sun was hot on her skin, making her feel relaxed and peaceful, if a little horny.
She tried to straighten the Oregon T-shirt they’d bought him, but it was stuck in the life jacket. Then she had to grab her seat for balance as he steered the boat along the vegetation at the river’s edge.
Above them on one side ran the I-84 freeway. On the other side, she saw nothing but hills under a grayblue cloudless sky.
“What are you up to?”
Jem tossed his sunglasses away and pulled his legs over the seat to face her. “Come here.”
“Why?” she asked. He had a devilishly wicked expression on his handsome face.
He patted his lap. “Come and straddle me. I want to feel that Celilo.”
“If we capsize,” she warned, “you’d be in worse shape than me.”
“This skiff has a nice, flat bottom. We’ll be fine.”
Was he right or just too horny to be reasonably cautious? Catee left her bench, but stayed at a crouch as she stepped toward him. The boat swayed, but he caught her by the breasts.
She glared. “You could have caught my waist.”
He tweaked her nipples. “Why would I do that? C’mon, hike up your skirt.”
She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked, shimmying her legs to tease him.
He made a tsking noise. “No panties again, I see. What a naughty girl you are.”
She liked the free feeling and the way his gaze fixed on her body, like she was magnetic. She always felt a little free in August. “How does my Celilo look?”
He pushed his fingers through the springy hair she kept trimmed. It was too pretty to shave or wax.
Her crowning glory was reddish brown these days, but she was a vibrant redhead below.
“It’s like there’s a fire going on down there.” He skimmed a finger down her cleft.
She gulped and her clit pulsed, then his finger slid into the moist heat that waited for him.
“Sweetheart, you’re all juicy for me,” he crooned, adding another thick digit.
“Always,” she agreed, circling her hips around the fingers that anchored her, feeling them drag along her sensitive lips. “No one else does it for me, Jem, and I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Do this,” he suggested, pushing her legs apart.
“Don’t stop,” she started to beg, but he pulled his finger away and tugged her down to straddle him.
Her mons slid against his wide metal belt buckle and instinctively she rode the cool surface.
“You need to give me some of that,” he said.
“Move that Celilo south.”
“I picked out these clothes for a reason,” she said. “The buckle is so deliciously cool against my skin.”
“You’re such a kitten, Catee. Always rubbing against things.”
“The only things I rub against are yours. Are you going to be able to breathe with that life jacket on?”
He unzipped the front. It immediately gaped wide open. “So there’s no one else? You close yourself away the rest of the year?”
“I tried to find someone else, after the first time we met. But it wasn’t any good. You ruined me for other guys.”
She saw his fingers shake as he pulled away his clothes. As his cock sprang forth between them, he opened and drew on a condom that had been in his pocket.
“I need you,” he told her as the boat rocked gently. “I need that Celilo around my cock.”
Catee rose over him, then pushed down, feeling his heat fill her dark channel. She allowed the river’s flow to determine their movement, letting the pleasure break over her in tiny waves.
“Think anyone can hear us?” she asked. “Or see us?”
Jem held her with one arm and put his free hand over his eyes to shade them. “We’re alone.”
“Good.” She pushed her toes into the bottom of the boat and began to ride his cock in earnest, bucking against his length, moving up and down his cock faster than she could have played him with her hand. Rivulets of musky moisture coated him as it dripped from her pussy. Between her breasts little drops of sweat formed and drizzled down her skin like warm icing. Her back felt damp under his exploring hands and she could hear him panting.
“It’s so hot,” she gasped.
He leaned over, cupped his hand into the river, and raised his palm to cascade water over her flushed face. Some caught in her hair and drifted down her neck. The coolness of it allowed her to increase her pace.
“More.” She found her rhythm again, riding him as he bathed her with his hand.
“My Celilo,” he murmured, squeezing her hips.
“These are your rocks.”
He felt like a rock inside her as she spent herself against him, felt the wave of answering pleasure in his body. Despite the condom, she could feel the warmth of his ejaculation. His arms pulled her close and she rested her face against his salty neck.
Bones was a word that came to her as they drifted together. Her very bones ached for him every day they were apart. They played this game like they were strangers, but really, wasn’t that the truth? She didn’t know where he lived, what he did, what he was. He was different. She couldn’t say what brought her to that conclusion, but he sensed things differently than other people and his personality always changed after their first night together, as if he’d found himself again. So what did that make him?
She had no idea. But he was truly her romantic mystery like the fortune cookie had said. Maybe he never did completely remember her until after the first morning. But then, what kept bringing him back to her? Every time she drove away, Catee was afraid he wouldn’t return. She only knew one solution to her fears. How could she take their long separations out of the equation?
Her fingers touched the vegetation only inches away. The spot gave them a sense of privacy, but they weren’t really protected from the sun. “I think your forehead and the tips of your ears are getting pink.”
He stirred to action, raising his head from her neck. “Your shoulders too. We’d better get going.”
“And do what?”
“Go back to the hotel? Or do you want to get something to eat?”
“A cool shower sounds nice, though I loved your river version.” She pulled herself away from him and pushed her skirt down, hunted for the cooler, and found a fresh bottle of water while Jem disposed of the condom and dressed.
“Yeah, let’s go back to the hotel.” He began to hum as he turned and started up the motor. “I like our showers,” he sang.
Her foot bounced to his song as they moved out of the vegetation. She pulled a small camera from the cooler and began to frame shots as his lyrics became more suggestive.
“I like your pussy in August and its hot, salty taste,” he crooned. “I like my cock inside you and our time is never a waste.”
“Smile,” she teased. She had better pictures of him than this, on a day when he was sweaty from heat and sex, but he looked relaxed and happy with that naughty tune on his lips.
That was one thing she’d noticed. He was a much more serious creature on their first night. She lightened his heart. Could she be important to him despite what little time they spent together?
Her mind churned as she drove them back to the hotel. What did she want from him? They’d been playing this game for seven years. She’d be thirty in a week. Though she was convinced he was unmarried, that was about all she was sure of.
“Do you have children?” she asked as they got out of the car.
He looked at her quizzically. “No. Do you?”
“Of course not. I barely have a life.” She pulled out the hotel card key and slid it into the lock.
“You travel a
great deal,” he said. “For your photography assignments.”
“Yep. All over the world.” She pulled off her hat and sunglasses and dropped them on the bed. Her body was sticky and too warm.
“Do you remember how we met?”
“How could I forget?” she said, even though he always did.
Hurriedly, she continued. “You were a musician back then. I took head shots of you a couple times. You were going to use them for your cover, but you never released the CD. I didn’t see you again until the next August when I ran into you at the winery.”
“My life changed drastically that November,” he said, sitting on one of the chairs facing the small table in the room. “We met in August, did the shoot in October.”
“What happened? I liked your music.”
He shrugged. “Things changed. I was better off living a more retired life.”
She sat next to him and started to braid her hair away from her face. They had lowered the air conditioning in the room before they left and it was warm. “Did you have a health emergency?”
Something had seriously affected him.
His lips tightened for a moment. “You could describe it that way.”
“What do you do for a living now?” She liked this, a conversation instead of just sex.
“I have investments. Like the winery.”
“You own that winery?”
He nodded.
“You never said.” She’d been hired to do the brochures a year after they’d met, in fact. Had he been behind the lucrative assignment from the beginning? She’d never questioned it before, but she hadn’t been established when she’d first gotten the job. It had been quite a coup.
“I don’t get too involved.” He shook his head, as if dispelling stray thoughts. “But it’s a good place to see you. We’ve made it work like this for years.”
“Seven years since we met,” she emphasized.
“We’ve been doing this a long time.” He opened the ice cube bucket and unwrapped a plastic cup, then scooped the cubes into it.
“Twice a year—August and October.” Would there ever be more?
He stood. “You look hot, Catee.” He stepped behind her and gently touched her shoulder with the cup. It was cool from the ice and he stroked her back with it.
She dropped her chin to her chest. “That feels good.”
“More?”
“Yes.”
Jem put a cube directly on her skin. Catee could feel rivulets drip down her back as it melted.
“What are you doing?”
“Making love to you.”
Her heart thrilled at the words. The word, really. Love. “I’m a mess.”
She felt his lips on the crown of her head as he laid a gentle kiss there. “You’re never a mess. You’re organized, competent, lovely.”
She tilted her head in surprise. “Thanks.”
He touched her chin. “It’s all true. I’m lucky to spend time with you.”
“We could be together more,” she suggested. “I mean, I’d like to, when I’m not traveling.”
“It wouldn’t work,” he said. “It just wouldn’t.”
Her stomach burned all of a sudden, though from the heat or the casual cruelty of his words, she couldn’t say. Still, she was a fighter. “Why not? You like me. We’ve never had an argument. Don’t you think we’re compatible?”
“You don’t know anything about my life.” He said it without inflection and she couldn’t see his face.
Don’t read anything into it. “Only what you tell me,” she agreed. “But I want to know more.”
“Listen to my body,” he said, setting the ice cube in the cup he’d put on the table.
Isn’t that what she always did? Was it only their bodies meeting all these years?
The chairs had wheels and he turned her so they were facing. He held out his hands so she could take them and be pulled upright.
They went into the bathroom where he turned on the shower and undressed them both, their clothes becoming a mingled heap on the floor. She felt limp, both physically and emotionally, full of wanting and waiting.
In the shower, he soaped her gently. When she was clean, he lifted her out and toweled her off, then found a bottle of aloe vera in her toiletry bag and smoothed it over her skin. She drifted on the bed as he spread the cool gel, then massaged her shoulders.
Slowly, he worked his way down her body, relaxing and exciting her. He avoided intimate areas, but when he started to massage her feet, she realized there were more erotic zones on her body than just her Celilo. Her deep womanly places began to heat as he worked at the muscles and played with her toes. Her body felt heavy, limp, and tranquil.
“I could get used to this,” she murmured.
He rubbed her arches and she let out an involuntary groan of delight. “You’ve got a long drive coming up. It’s good to relax tonight.”
She didn’t like to remember that. How could he be content with them separating so soon? She rolled over and started to sit up, deciding it was now or never. Her feet slipped from his grasp.
Before she could take another breath, she was flat on her back with him on top of her.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked. He’d pushed the air out of her lungs.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked, nibbling her neck.
“Not exactly. I was going to ask you a question.”
She pushed him up so she could breathe. Her hands curved around solid muscle and it took effort to hold him even with his arms taking most of his weight.
He wriggled his hips so his cock positioned between her legs, nudging her pussy. “What?”
She bit her lip. “I wanted to know if you’d consider seeing me again?”
“In October,” he said. “Like always.” He nuzzled her cheek.
Usually her eyes would have drifted closed, but she felt different now, more mind than body.
“And after?” She wrapped her arms around his broad back and let him settle back down.
“Next August after your brochure shoot.” His cock bumped against her moist lips, but she didn’t open to him yet.
She might have said they could hire someone else for the shoot, but since he was the owner, she realized that wasn’t going to happen.
“Are we a couple?” she asked. “Or a long-term fling? I want some definition here.”
He plumped the sides of her breasts and rested back on them, smiling. “We’re lovers.”
That told her nothing. “Do you have lots of lovers?”
“No.” His smile widened.
“Then don’t you want more sex? I’m not out of town fifty weeks a year and it’s only a two-hour drive for me to here. I could come every month, or nearly. We could see each other more.”
“I don’t live around here.”
He sounded so reasonable, as if her question was silly and he was making a sensible point. But it wasn’t sensible, not after so much time. “Then where do you come from? I’ve never seen your car. Do you garage it at the winery? If so, why doesn’t that Briana woman seem to know you?”
He pushed her right leg aside with his thigh then slid his fingers up the delicate inside flesh.
She felt her nipples pebble against his chest.
Her pussy lips were spreading along with her legs and he could enter her now if he tried. “You’re trying to distract me.”
His smile was devious. “Sweet distraction, lover. Give me a kiss.”
“No.”
He touched her cheek with his nose, then licked the sensitive spot where her hairline met her temple. His fingers continued to tease her leg, creeping closer to her folds.
“Am I ever going to get anything from you but sex?” she asked.
He touched her clit. Maybe that was his answer.
He began to gently circle her sensitive bud. This was all he was offering. As turned on as she was, she felt a burning sensation in her eyes. But she wouldn’t cry. She still wanted his body. For se
ven years, it had been enough.
Her legs bent and slid against his back, providing the clear invitation he wanted. He reached for the bedside table and found the condoms, then sheathed himself.
She closed her eyes and let out a breath, focusing on the fluttering sensations building in her body.
She was wet and ready as he entered her, even if she despaired. He took control, pulling her legs up his torso until her feet were alongside his ears. Her hips moved against him, but in little strokes as the position made him go so deep. After all their adventures of the past twenty-four hours, her body could take anything he had to offer. If only her heart wasn’t so open and ready too, for more than he seemed willing to give.
She bowed back as he put his hand on her mound and began to move in time with his thrusts.
She pushed away her wants and fears, drifting instead on the pleasure, on the scent of his body, on the lazy August afternoon. Afterward, Catee fell asleep spooned against him and dreamed of a future she wasn’t sure was possible.
—
The dream didn’t end well. Catee was panting, running. She woke with a start, her heart pounding and her skin damp with sweat. Her thoughts were disordered, but she remembered something had been chasing her. A clock. One of those melting clocks out of a Salvador Dali painting. Good grief, was her upcoming birthday really affecting her this much?
“What’s wrong?” Jem asked.
She sat up, the sheets with her since they were stuck to her back, surprised to hear his voice in front of her. Instead of sleeping next to her, Jem had pulled a chair in front of the big picture window and was staring out at the river. His naked body was as still and as beautiful as a stone statue.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked.
“I don’t like staying indoors very much.”
“Not a city boy?” She craved information about him, as if she could fix him more tightly in her heart.
“Never. I practically live in the woods. On the edge, at least.” He paused. “I have a house near a cottonwood forest in central Oregon.”
Information! “You live south of me, then. How did you end up with the winery?”
“I bought a portfolio of properties from a man who was retiring. He had the winery, a pottery studio, some fast food restaurants, even a heavy equipment dealership.”