by Various
"Yeah, I kinda liked it myself," I say, while kissing his neck and running my hands through his already messy hair. "You smell so good. You showered this morning. I didn’t. I was about to when you knocked. Sorry."
Pulling away from him, I reach for my coffee.
"Sorry," he says, "Sometimes it's hard to control myself around you."
I smile in spite of myself. "Back atcha!" I say. "So, I'm going to go shower, then we can hit the day."
I start down the hall; he follows me and stops me just outside the bathroom door.
"I have a better idea. Let me join you in the shower." His hand is on my waist, his thumb caressing my hipbone back and forth, back and forth, it's distracting.
"Okay. If you think you want another shower." I know somewhere deep in my subconscious that’s a lame thing to say, but the pressure of his hand and thumb are shutting down my speech capacity.
Ryan smiles that wicked smile of his, his eyes burning into mine as his hand squeezes my hip a little more, and my knees go weak. He whips he shirt over his head, leaving me breathless at the sight of his naked torso in those jeans.
"Damn. You look really good like that," I say, sort of shocked I said it out loud.
"Back atcha, Young. Let's see if we can match, though." He reaches up and starts to unbutton my pajama top. Two buttons in, I pull it over my head.
"Much better," he says.
I start the water while he takes off his pants and boots. When it's nice and warm I step in, letting the water rinse off my body. I really did want to take a shower, I feel like I need a good soaping off before he gets too close. As I reach for the soap, he steps in and takes it from me.
He stands there, gloriously naked. I forgot just how magnificent his naked body is; it takes my breath away. Our bodies fit perfectly together. I nuzzle into his chest as he rubs soap on my back and my shoulders. The water is warm and his touch feels heavenly. He takes the showerhead off the wall and moves it across my body. Taking advantage of his hands being busy, I take the soap back, quickly scrubbing the rest of me while he plays with the showerhead, spraying water on himself and me in intermittent bursts.
"Okay, I need to rinse," I say, now extremely soapy everywhere. His eyes flash with a salacious thought. Uh oh!
"Turn around," he commands. I turn my back to him and feel the water start at my shoulders and move down my back and my legs. Nice.
"Okay, turn around again," he says, this time more of a growl than a command. As I turn, he sprays the wall behind me. When I face him, he gently pushes me to the wall; it's warm now, so I lean back into it.
Ryan sprays my shoulders and neck, careful not to spray my face. Slowly, the water moves down my arms and across my breasts. I close my eyes and relax my head against the wall.
"You are so beautiful." Ryan’s voice is full of awe. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I stop myself from rolling my eyes and arguing. I feel his hands on my breast, his thumb moving back and forth across my nipple.
The water travels down my body, making its own waterways. Caressing my stomach and my hips, his hand follows the warm stream of water. I feel the warmth slip down my legs, leaving my top half almost cold.
Suddenly, the water is focused between my legs. Whoa. My eyes spring open. Ryan is kneeling down, staring at the apex between my thighs while his hand slowly strokes my stomach. Then his hand quickly moves toward my sex. He doesn't notice that I have opened my eyes and am watching him.
"Oh God, Nora. You are amazing," he says, as his fingertips run through my pubic hair. The water stream is now focused and intense. His fingers spread my lips apart so the water hits my clit directly.
"Ahhhh," I cry out unexpectedly.
He looks up at me now. His eyes are hooded and dark. "Please, Nora. Please, let me do this." The pleading in his voice is obvious, no holding back on his part.
I can't speak; I just lean my head back against the wall and slowly open my legs, giving him and the showerhead better access.
I hear him groan below me. Ryan's hands are everywhere at once. Or maybe that's his mouth. I don't know and I don't I care. The water is beating a relentless, warm, constant pressure on my clit while his fingers are circling and probing.
Slowly, he slips one finger inside me.
"Ahhhhh" My cry comes out again as my legs spread further apart.
His finger moves in and out of me, the stream constant; the two together are pulling me apart. I feel myself quickening, which is the only warning I get. My insides explode with pleasure, my orgasm ripping through me. I cry out, but don't connect the noise to myself.
"Jesus, you are so fucking hot, Nora," Ryan says, with a huge smile.
I laugh at him as I'm curled up on the floor in the shower trying to catch my breath. Hot, huh? He joins me on the floor, still holding the showerhead in his hand. His cock is huge, and the sight of it makes my insides jump.
"Come on. Let me help you." He stands and holds out his hand for me.
"Oh, so now you're the perfect gentleman?" I tease as I stand with him.
"I'd never put a claim to that," he says, while turning me back to face the wall. I hear the condom wrapper open and, like Pavlov's dog, my body quivers with anticipation of what will come next.
He bends me over and lets the warm water run over my backside and legs while he holds my hips with his free hand. At first guiding me away from him, he then pulls me back, entering me.
"Ohhhhh," I say. He waits while my body adjusts to his width and length and the water runs across my back and legs. The two sensations are breathtaking.
Slowly, he starts moving in and out, and I feel my insides opening up, allowing him access. "Oh yeah, Young. You're so tight. That feels so good," he almost moans.
He is so hard and the water is so soft that the two together are difficult for my brain to register. My body is taking over again. With each thrust, I brace myself with my arms against the shower wall, allowing him to slam into me harder.
"Ryan. I’m going to come." Any minute now I'm going to completely lose it. Somehow Ryan moves the showerhead to my front, and now the stream is hitting my clit again. Oh my God, this is not going to take long at all. Just when it’s about to hit, the water goes ice cold. "Whoa." At first the shock cuts through my orgasm, but then the ice-cold water hits just right and my mind snaps.
Ryan squeezes my hips and grinds into me while the water's relentless pressure spurs me over the edge. Everything goes black while I dissolve into a puddle of absolute pleasure. Just when the cold water is almost irritating, it goes warm again, and Ryan's thrusts start in earnest.
I am nothing. I am completely spent. Holding on to the wall, I hear our bodies slap together over and over and over again.
Ryan's body jerks rapidly, "Oh, God. Oh yes." Ryan's voice is strained and high. I feel the condom expand inside of me.
The water stops and the only sound is our breathing, ragged and heavy, our chests heaving. Finally, I push myself off the wall. He slides out and steps back, giving me more room.
Picking up the showerhead, I put it back in its proper place and reach for the shampoo. He steps out and flushes the condom.
"Damn, girl. Where have you been all my life?" he says, watching me while I rinse the soap out of my hair.
Now that the moment is over, I’m slightly embarrassed. Turning away from him, I finish cleaning myself up and reach for a towel after shutting off the water. The bathroom is steamy and all the walls are wet. Ryan is still standing in the middle of the tiny room, no towel, not moving, just watching.
I'm not sure what to say, so I hand him a towel. He takes it and starts to dry off. I dry off too, but remain in the shower stall. He is so relaxed and comfortable naked. He doesn't seem self conscious at all.
Slipping out of the shower, he gently lays a hand on my arm.
"You okay?" He looks at me, serious now.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I was going to go get dressed."
"Was that okay? Not too much?" He looks a little nervou
s now, what a sudden change.
I smile at him. A naked, slightly insecure Ryan? This is new. "Yeah. That was more than okay. And no, I don't think it was too much. But I'll let you know in a couple of hours if I can't sit down."
I'm about to duck behind him when he reaches out and puts his hands on either side of my face, holding me there.
"You are an amazing woman, Nora. A fucking incredible woman," he says, his mouth hovering just over mine. After a breath, his lips meet my own, soft at first and then hard, kissing me deeply, urgently.
He pulls me into him, his need demanding to be met by mine. I kiss him back, our towels dropping on the floor, our naked bodies rubbing against each other.
Slowly, he pulls back from my mouth and wraps his arms around me. Not sure what to expect next, I just wait, accepting his embrace.
"Dress rugged," he whispers into my ear.
What? I pull back and look at him. "What did you say?"
"You heard me. Dress rugged. And pack a change of clothes, a rugged change of clothes. Your surprise is waiting for you." His eyes are twinkling now, and he's all smiles.
"Ohhhkay," I say, picking up my towel and heading to the bedroom. I hear him getting redressed in the hall. Rugged, huh? I pull out some jeans, an old T-shirt, and my old running shoes. I don't own any hiking boots, so these will have to do.
"I'll heat up your coffee," Ryan calls from the hallway.
"Sounds good," I call back as I wander back into the bathroom to brush my hair and finish getting ready. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I get out some makeup, wondering if this counts as rugged? Do I need to bring some? Looking into the mirror, I decide no and use some SPF lotion instead.
After throwing some clothes, a sweatshirt, toothbrush, hairbrush, and the rest of the condoms I own into my old gym bag, I go back to the kitchen to find Ryan and my coffee.
Ryan looks delicious again, his hair smoother now, no doubt from the shower, but the rest of him looks exactly like he did when he walked in. I can't believe he’s here in my kitchen reading the paper.
"Here's your coffee, Young." He lifts the cup without taking his eyes off whatever he’s reading. "Bagels are in the toaster."
"My, aren't you the domestic one." I take the cup and breathe in the strong aroma. "Cream cheese?"
"Ah, yeah." He looks up, almost surprised to see me. "Wow, you look cute."
"Cute?" I ask in disgust. "Cute? Really."
"No. It's just I've never seen you in anything but work clothes." He pauses and I raise my eyebrow at him. "Or uh—naked." He stands up, admiring me. "Yeah. I like this."
Is cute so bad? The way he’s looking at me right now, I don’t think so. I’m not used to this kind of obvious scrutiny and I blush. The closer he gets, the hotter my face gets, and not in a sexy way.
"Okay, then." I try pushing him away, but he is a solid mass in front of me.
"Seriously, Young. You look great, edible, even." His hands move my ponytail off my shoulder and expose my neck. With the touch of his mouth on my skin, my breath hitches up a notch. Will I never get used to his touch?
"Yeah. Okay. But." I stammer, feeling my knees weaken.
"Hmmmm," he says. And then snaps his head back up. "Right. Okay. Sorry." He takes a step back. "Your surprise is waiting. Did you pack extra clothes and a toothbrush?"
"Yes, I did. Ready for anything, Sir." I hope.
"Okay, then let's get the hell outta here!" Suddenly boyish, he starts flipping off lights and closing the curtains. I gather up my stuff, the rest of my coffee and bagels, and we head out the door.
He takes my bag at the elevator and I sip my coffee. "I do like a girl that can pack light," he says.
"Yeah. I hope you’re not taking me to anything fancy ‘cause there’s nothing in there but jeans and underwear."
When we step outside, he steers me toward the uncovered parking lot. Now my curiosity is piqued even more. A motorcycle, perhaps?
"Do you own a motorcycle?" I ask.
"Why yes, I do. But nice guess, that’s not the surprise."
"You do?” I say, shocked. “For real?"
He laughs and pushes me forward. "Yes, Young. I do."
"Then why the hell haven't you brought that out yet? I want to ride the motorcycle!"
"You do?" Now it's his turn to be shocked.
"Yeah. I took a class ya know. I suck at the whole steering thing. But, my instructor said I'd make a great passenger." His eyes go wide and then narrow.
"Seriously?" He asks, suspiciously.
"Yes! Why? Everyone takes the class."
Ryan belly laughs. "No, Young. Not everyone takes a class to learn. Not a lot of people even like to ride, let alone drive, and those that do are usually self-taught."
"Oh. Well, whatever. I took the class with a friend of mine. She was great, missed all the cones at the test. I sucked and hit every last one of them. Just like he said, I stared at them, and where you look is where you point. I just couldn't help myself. Anyway. Yes. I want to ride on the motorcycle."
He stops and stares at me for a minute. "Okay. Next time I'll bring the bike." He smiles and we keep walking.
He stops in front of a shiny, red van. It's beautiful, clean, square corners with a closed pop-top; it looks brand new.
"What is that?" I ask.
"That, Young, is a fully restored, 1985 Vanagon Camping Van," he says, proudly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"No way. You own this? It looks brand new. Did you have it restored?" I am awestruck.
In college, all the cool kids had old beat up Vanagons and would disappear for weekend camping trips to Big Sur or Half Moon Bay. Sometimes they would go north. I was never in that crowd and never went on those trips. Besides, those vans were old and run down; this van looked like it rolled off the assembly line last week.
"Had it restored? No. Is it restored? Yes, I restored it. Bought it from a guy who’d been living in it for something like five years. It's been my sanity project." Ryan proudly opens up the side door, exposing the inside. It's spotless. The backseat is a couch. The wall opposite the door has a small sink, stovetop, and small refrigerator, with cabinets above. There is a cabinet door above the two front seats. Behind the back seat are sleeping bags, a backpack, and grocery bags.
I step inside to get a better look. Opening one of the cabinets I see camping dishes, spices, and silverware. I open another to find toilet paper, paper towels, and cans of soup.
"Holy cow. This is awesome!" I almost squeal.
Placing my bag on the floor, he doesn't say anything, just smiles. Then he walks around to the front and gets in.
"Come on, Young. Time to hit the road,” he calls from the driver's seat.
"Yeah, okay. I'm coming." I hop out and slide the door shut.
The front seat is like an easy chair in a car, large and comfortable. When he starts the van, that old VW purr is the dominant engine sound.
"I can't believe you have one of these. I’ve always wanted to camp in one of them." I feel like a kid, I’m so excited. The seat bounces as we drive out of the parking lot and on to the road.
"Where are we going?" I start looking around the front seat for a map.
"We are going to boondock," he says.
"We’re going where?"
"To boondock. When you’re self-sufficient and can just drive into the land and park. No hook ups, no campgrounds. Just be completely on our own," he explains.
"And they call that boondocking?" I ask, skeptical of his answer.
He laughs again, a sound to which I am becoming delightfully addicted. "Yes, Young. They call it boondocking."
"Alrighty, then. Let's go boondocking." I settle into the seat and watch the road.
After about an hour and a half we enter Big Basin, one of the many state parks in this area. I take a minute to study Ryan. He looks relaxed as he steers the van through the winding roads. His hair is just long enough to be a little messy, but still sexy. He has a strong nose and chin, with just
enough cheekbone to accentuate his amazing chocolate, chestnut eyes. I still can't get over how they sometimes seem to spin.
"What?" he says, catching me staring at him.
"Nothing. I'm just admiring my choice of seatmates," I say, smiling at him.
He laughs a little, almost shy. Not a look I'm used to.
"Your choice of seatmates, huh? Were there other options this weekend?" He glances over my way again.
"Other options this weekend? Let's see." I pause, watching the trees pass by. "Nope. Don't think I had a lot on my docket."
"Good." He reaches across the van and puts his hand on my knee. It's so warm and soothing, I like the feeling.
I see a sign for a campground. "Are we going to camp in there?"
"No. We're going just deep enough to hopefully not get busted, and park. I want to be completely alone with you this weekend. Just you and me." He flashes that wicked grin of his.
"Okay. What do you mean ‘not get busted’?" All of a sudden I'm a little nervous.
"Don't worry about it. This is a small park. The places to really boondock are parks surrounded by BLM land. This one doesn't have that, but I know a place we can get to through the woods. No one else should be around." He studies the road ahead again, both hands on the wheel.
"Over a bridge and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go."
"Yeah, something like that. But there will be no cookies or flowers at the end of this road. Just the big bad wolf."
"Something tells me we’re carrying the big bad wolf with us, so nowhere is safe," I muse.
"Right you are, Young. Right you are." His eyes never leave the road.
"So." Feeling brave, I start, "What's the deal with you, Ryan? You don't strike me as a typical Palo Alto lawyer. What's your story?"
Ryan takes a deep breath before answering me.
"Well, the deal with me is that I always wanted to be lawyer. Always knew that I'd be a lawyer. My parents are lawyers. Mom did family law, divorces, child advocacy, custody, all the real messy stuff. Dad was a defense lawyer in San Diego. Growing up, I really admired them. Went straight to law school after college. Now, I'm paying off loans."