Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope)

by Lucy Eden

  "Oh. All right. Sandwiches it is," Ryan said.

  I held the glossy yellow tomatoes to my nose for a second, breathing in the bitter-green scent of the broken stems before I started cutting them onto a paper plate. They were so ripe that juice ran between my fingers and down my wrists, and Ryan handed me a paper towel to wipe it away.

  We ate sitting opposite each other, sipping our beers and talking. I had been right about the ‘never seeing each other again’ part; we'd come from opposite parts of the state, me from the south and he from up north. It was actually too bad, since he had a way of making me feel calm when he wasn’t annoying the hell out of me. Calm was exactly what I needed that weekend, and even though I wasn't sure if I'd go camping again, I'd miss the careless feeling.

  I don't know why I read that work email while Ryan was off walking Basil again. Maybe I was just alone and bored and needed something to do with my hands. Maybe I was hoping they'd emailed to say the place was falling apart without me and that they wanted to hire me back, but it was just an exit survey they wanted me to take. What did they expect me to say? They'd fired me because I kept forgetting things, and no matter how I complained to HR that I had a disorder and firing me was an act of discrimination, they didn't care.

  Maybe I could have sued, but that would've taken time and money and, frankly, me actually giving a shit. I was back on the job market Monday morning at 8 am. I deleted the email and hoped my former boss got a papercut.

  Right on the cuticle.

  I slouched off to the tent and took a nap, because if I wasn't working, I might as well be well-rested.

  It was late by the time I bothered to get up after rolling around and making an ill-fated attempt to read a little bit. Well, not super late, but dinner time, which was late enough to make me feel like I’d wasted half the day. It wasn’t like I’d had a day to waste, but the thought still nagged at me as I emerged from the test to find Ryan cooking chicken skewers over the fire. Basil watched and licked his chops, too focused on the meat to notice when I scratched his head. I didn't know if it was because Ryan was making food and I was starving, or if the golden, failing light was hitting him just right, but he was looking pretty handsome that evening.

  "I was about to wake you up," he said. I eyed the chicken.

  "How long is chicken good in a cooler?" I asked. Cheese started off rotten, it could probably live in a cooler for days without giving me food poisoning. Chicken I wasn’t so sure about.

  "I dunno, I went into town. We drank all the beers so I was going anyway. I grabbed a salad, too."

  "You're an angel," I said before I could stop myself. I hadn't thought about salad at all, and it sounded like the most delicious thing in the world. The last day hadn't been super full of fruits and veggies.

  "That hike tired you out, huh?" Ryan asked. He was focused on the chicken, probably making a deliberate effort to ignore the rather weird thing I’d just said.

  "No. I mean, it was a long walk, but real life intruded on my weekend."

  "Exhausting."

  "Yeah. Is that why people love camping so much? You can just peace out on all your problems for a minute?" I asked.

  Ryan laughed. "It's definitely one reason." He adjusted the skewers. "I'm glad we ran into each other," he said, not looking up.

  I could tell it wasn't an easy thing to say. I watched him for a minute, wanting to tell him the truth but a bit embarrassed by it. Besides, if I started being too truthful with this cute – okay fine, hot – dude, I might start opening up in other, even more ridiculous ways.

  "Me too. I'd be lost without someone to help," I admitted. Ryan looked up at me, a tiny smile that I could mistake for smugness playing about his lips. Oh, boy. I hadn't noticed how pretty his dark eyes were. The silence turned awkward for a hot second, until his phone went off, playing a merry little tune.

  "Chicken's ready!" His usual cheerfulness seemed a little forced, but things went back to their natural, comfortable state as I helped him dish out dinner, open beers, and feed Basil. Ryan told me some stories about his previous camping trips while we ate, clearly trying to make me laugh, and I found the good dark chocolate bars I'd put at the bottom of my backpack.

  "Salted caramel or coconut almond?" I asked.

  "I hate coconut," Ryan said. I flipped him the caramel one, and when I sat back down, I couldn't help but notice that he'd moved his camp chair to my side of the crackling fire.

  My stomach did a hopeful little flip; he wanted to be closer to me, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone had really wanted to get close. I’d gotten into a pattern of work-eat-sleep that hadn’t left many chances for closeness. My instinct was to immediately talk myself out of hoping, especially since I was definitely too careful to let some stranger worm his way into my pants, let alone my heart.

  Ryan had probably moved because it was easier to talk when you could actually see each other instead of squinting through darkness and flame. Camp felt much cozier this way, too. The fire danced, casting its warm, inconstant light in a glowing ring. Ryan’s arm brushed my knee as he reached down to pet Basil, who sat across my feet with a loud doggy sigh, finally tired out.

  "Choco-cheers," I said, trying to keep things light, and Ryan laughed. He tapped a corner of his chocolate against mine. "That was good dinner. Thanks."

  "Thanks for being good company," Ryan said. "I usually spend these weekends alone."

  "That's not very nice to Basil," I said. God, I hoped he didn't get all mushy on me. I was a sucker for mush.

  "It's his first camping trip, remember? It gets lonely sometimes."

  "I thought outdoorsy types liked being alone," I said. "Maybe that's why I've never been an outdoorsy type." I felt my shoulders stiffen as I realized I’d said too much and put a couple squares of chocolate into my mouth to shut myself up. I could barely taste it, really only aware of the texture of coconut and crunchy almonds.

  "Sometimes it's nice to be alone. But I think this weekend I really needed the company." Oh jeez. He was being really open and sweet. "It's too bad there's not much of the weekend left."

  "Yeah." I toyed with the ends of my braids, wishing I could say that my weekend was indefinite at this point. It might make me feel better to tell someone I'd gotten fired. It might make him happy to suggest we take another day. But I couldn't make myself admit it. I folded the wrapper back around my chocolate bar, no longer interested in it.

  "Mat?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Can I kiss you?" Ryan asked.

  I didn't answer. Instead, I leaned over and kissed him. It only took a moment for his hand to move to my jaw, his fingers brushing the exposed side of my neck. His lips tasted bittersweet and salty from chocolate, and the scent of him filled my head, sweat and something soapy, citrusy. I was dizzy, floating, clutching him to anchor myself as my whole body grew warm.

  Excitement gave way to anxiety as I realized that getting close to him was a mistake. I was a mess and he was a complete stranger and I shouldn't have spent the money on this trip and all I wanted was to be at home under a blanket. I pulled away.

  "What's wrong?" Ryan asked. I escaped to the tent before he could see me cry. "Mat?" He called after me. I thought I heard him sigh when I didn't answer. Part of me wanted him to come after me, care enough to check on me, but the rest just wanted to be alone. I was half-disappointed, half-relieved, when he spoke again. "Well. Let's get you in the truck before it starts raining, buddy," he said to Basil.

  I bit my lip, guilt overwhelming all my other emotions, and dug my phone out of my pocket. It was a ninety percent chance of rain. Shit. I didn't want to let Ryan sleep in the rain or in his truck, but getting in close to him again was definitely dangerous. That kiss had messed me up. If we shared the tent, I'd end up naked before I knew what had happened.

  The thought made my face go hot. I’d turned around on Ryan, sure, but now I was out here just blatantly having sexual thoughts? I was in more trouble than I thought, headed straight toward an un
expected heartbreak tomorrow morning on top of everything else. That’s how it would have to end unless I put a stop to any kind of fooling around right now.

  My most immediate problem, though, was that I had to brush my teeth before I went to sleep, which meant making eye contact with Ryan at some point or another, unless I wanted to wait until he fell asleep. I had to be quick, grabbing my flashlight and toothbrush and rushing to the bathrooms while I brushed so I could get back before he did. It was anxiety hell, but I made it, grabbing my bag to protect it from the rain and tearing my bra and jeans off before I wriggled into my sleeping bag. If I had to get up in the night I'd need to find my pajama pants, but I didn't want to have to talk to Ryan, and the best way to avoid that was to pretend to be asleep.

  I heard Ryan messing around outside when the first few patters of rain hit the tent. Overwhelmed by guilt but not willing to get up, I called his name.

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you gonna sleep in your truck?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Come in here with me, okay? You'll be more comfortable. You're too much boy for that cab."

  Ryan unzipped the tent to poke his head inside. "Too much boy?" he asked. His face was all hopeful amusement, lit from beneath by his lantern.

  "You're like eight feet tall. Get in here." There was plenty of room for both of us inside, Ryan's sleeping bag snugging in right next to mine with my backpack at my feet. The one that had the satin bonnet in it, but I wasn't about to put that on in front of a cute guy. My edges could survive one night. The way I was feeling, my emotions could not survive a possible explanation of Black Hair Stuff. "What about all your stuff?"

  "I put it in the truck, too," he said. I hadn't even noticed on my dash back to the tent. He must have stopped to brush his teeth, too, because he smelled minty. I'd had all the time in the world, and I'd made myself nervous for nothing. "Are you okay?" Ryan asked again.

  "I came out here to get less stressed, not more," I said.

  "Am I stressing you out?"

  "Thinking about what happens after this weekend is stressing me out." I couldn’t look at him when I said it, afraid of what I’d see in his eyes. Afraid he’d know that I wasn’t just talking about facing my real life, and that he’d think I was an absolute dipshit for wishing our time together wouldn’t end. "I got fired on Tuesday and then spent a bunch of money to come camping this weekend because I wanted to escape so bad."

  "Oh no," said Ryan.

  "Yeah. Not my best move."

  "Are you gonna be okay?" He asked. I bit my lip. I was currently not okay at all, but I’d already told him too much. “Mat?”

  I looked up at him, found my eyes drawn to his. They were almost gold in the lantern light, and for the first time I noticed how large they were, how beautiful. There was a hint of sadness to his brow, his carefree attitude slowly melting away. Night was when we were too tired to pretend, and I was afraid to speak.

  For a while, it seemed like Ryan was too. He propped himself up on his elbow.

  "Money-wise, I mean. Will you be okay?" He asked again, breaking the tension.

  "I have some savings. And I can always move back in with my mom. She's been wanting me to stay with her for like the last ten years. She says she misses cooking with me."

  "That makes sense. You're fun."

  "I'm the worst housekeeper on Earth," I said. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

  "It's cozy in here. Like a sleepover. That's when you tell secrets and stuff."

  "Then you have to tell me a secret. That's just fair," I said. Ryan smiled the softest smile I'd ever seen.

  "My secret is that I have a crush on you," he said.

  "That doesn't count, I –"

  Ryan’s lips met mine, sending the last words spiraling out of my brain. Being so close made all the air leave my lungs, my fingers tingling as they found their way into his hair. His arms were strong and comforting, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed how solid he was until he pulled my warm sleeping bag open with the harsh sawing sound of a zipper being dragged open, his body blocking the cool air that rushed over my skin. I slid my hands into Ryan's shirt, brushing my fingers across his skin until goosebumps rose there. His dick pressed against my thigh, as his hands wandered from my waist to my hips to my ass, as if looking for something to hold onto, to find purchase.

  I squeaked when he squeezed hard, warmth flooding through me. Ryan’s lips left mine, and he laughed, but it wasn’t the clear, sudden laugh I had grown used to. It was a chuckle deep in the back of his throat, husky and surprisingly sensual, muffled as he pressed his lips against the sensitive skin of my throat.

  Shivers scudded across my skin, and I writhed against him. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ryan was the kind of tease who would test my patience and break down all my walls.

  The sky opened up, rain pounding on the fabric above us. The air had gotten chilly, making my nipples hard and sensitive to Ryan’s touch when his hands found my breasts. His warm lips and fingers sent waves of pleasure from my breasts straight down between my legs. When I shifted my body against his, Ryan's hand slipped into my panties, gently caressing but never touching my clit or dipping inside. The anticipation was killing me, a wordless sound of desire escaping my lips before I could stop it. Still he teased, kissing his way down my belly but never going further until I whispered please.

  Ryan pulled off my panties, gentle as a whisper. His tongue was slow and hot, and I had to take two handfuls of my sleeping bag to keep from grabbing him by the hair to show him what I wanted. What he wanted was to ruin my life, and I was ready to let him. Why shouldn’t I? There was precious little of it left, anyway.

  It felt like he ate me out all night, letting me get close and easing off a thousand times until I felt like I was about to die, until I told him how much I hated him. I expected him to laugh, but he moaned instead, his tongue moving faster. The sound was unbelievably hot, the sensation almost too much to handle. I came, a wave of lightning running through my veins and leaving me wrung out. My body wanted to give out, my hands shaking when I pushed him away to grab my backpack, but the thought of stopping to rest didn’t even enter my mind. I dug in the front pocket of my bag, where I'd dumped my whole purse, and I had condoms in there.

  "You came prepared," Ryan said. I kissed him to shut him up, tasting my own bitterness all over his lips and tongue. We both fumbled with his jeans – God, who went to bed in jeans – until he could slide them a little down his hips. He felt good in my hand, warm and hard. I felt completely carved out, starved for him.

  I slid the condom onto the head of his dick, pushing it the rest of the way with my mouth. He gasped as my lips touched the base of his cock. The latex tasted horrible, but I sucked him for a few long strokes, listening to his moans grow more desperate. The sound completely bypassed my brain, burrowing inside me and making me squirm. Ryan used a handful of my braids to gently pull me away. In the pale light of the lantern, his face was flushed, his brown eyes smoky with desire. He looked as ready to come apart as I felt.

  "That feels really good, but I want to fuck you. Lay back?" He asked. I did, spreading my legs open for him despite the chill in the air. "Jesus." He pulled off his shirt, his chest hot and fuzzy against mine as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  Ryan pushed inside me, the curve of his dick hitting just the right spot with a warm stretch. It was sweet relief to feel every inch of him, to hear his breath catch. He kissed my throat, slow strokes burning me up inside. I snaked my arms under his, grabbing two handfuls of his perfect ass, but I lost my grip when he pushed up on his hands, changing to a new angle that made me moan. He drove into me hard and fast, and I knew he was close by the way he bit his lip. I reached down to rub my clit, rushing myself to come so hard I saw spots. When I tightened against him, it made another orgasm crash over me, and he groaned, his body going rigid as he came.

  He collapsed into me, both of us catching our breath in relative silence. The rain had slowed, playin
g a constant, gentle beat on the nylon above us, and after a while, Ryan pulled his sleeping bag open and over both of us. I kind of liked this part of camping, warm and comfortable in a cozy tent while it was horrible outside. I nuzzled into Ryan’s neck, completely relaxed at last, and he held me tighter, letting out a long, contented sigh.

  "You’re like a big, cuddly teddy bear," I said. Ryan laughed and kissed my temple. It would be easy to get used to being loved on like this, and a little bit of regret blossomed in my mind. I missed him already, even thought I’d just met him. I had to shove those feelings out of my mind before they ruined my whole night.

  "I'm glad you let me help you," he said.

  "Me too, but you already said that."

  "Well, I get the idea that you're not someone who likes to accept help, so I'm pretty grateful."

  I was suddenly too hot, wrapped up in Ryan's arms, and our sleeping bags. I didn't answer, because if I did, I'd say something I regretted. It was like he was purposely trying to sound like my final work assessment just to remind me of my flaws. I pushed off the sleeping bag, found myself too cold, and put on my shirt. A drop of water somehow worked its way through the tent and spattered on the back of my neck, sending a shudder down my spine.

  "I shouldn't have said that," Ryan said.

  "Observant," I replied. Too sharply, judging by the way he widened the gap I'd put between us. I hated myself for being a mess who couldn't even keep my easiest job ever, putting numbers in spreadsheets for a paycheck that was big enough to feel like a mistake. I hated myself for being angry at Ryan, but I hated myself even more for letting myself care what he thought. For being sad that it had to be over so soon when I knew how it would end. For giving into desire in the first place. "I guess it doesn't matter. It's not like we'll ever see each other again."

  "Yeah." Ryan's voice was strained, his expression hurt. There was a long, horrible silence in which I knew I'd said the wrong thing but couldn't admit it, or say sorry. Ryan was a better, more open person than I was, and that made me feel even worse. "I should go check on Basil."