“Then don’t stop,” I said.
4
DASH
Ikissed her again—because stopping felt impossible.
The sun was lower now, slanting gold through the trees, warming the boulder beneath us until it felt like we were balanced on something alive. Hartley’s mouth opened under mine, soft and eager, and every small sound she made—those quiet, surprised hums—shot straight through me.
My hands moved without permission, sliding under the hem of the hoodie and finding the smooth heat of her waist. She arched into the touch like she’d been waiting for it her whole life.
I broke the kiss long enough to look at her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide and dark with something between wonder and hunger. My fingers found the button of her jeans. I popped it open and dragged the zipper down slowly, giving her every second to change her mind.
She didn’t. Instead, she lifted her hips just enough to help me tug the denim past her thighs.
My palm slid beneath the lace edge of her panties. Christ. She was soaked—hot, slick, ready—and the discovery made my head spin. I pressed two fingers against her, gentle at first, circling theswollen little bud until her breath hitched and her nails dug into my shoulders.
“Dash—” Her voice cracked on my name.
I rubbed slow, steady circles, watching her face the whole time. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth falling open on a shaky exhale.
Every tiny shift of her hips, every soft whimper, told me exactly what she liked. I kept the rhythm even, pressing just a little harder when her thighs started to tremble.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, fingers twisting in my shirt. “I didn’t—I’ve never felt anything like…”
Her words dissolved into a broken moan as her whole body seized. She came hard, shuddering against my hand, pulsing around nothing while her forehead dropped to my shoulder.
I held her through it, murmuring nonsense against her hair—“good girl, that’s it, I’ve got you”—until the aftershocks eased and she was panting against my neck.
She lifted her head, eyes glassy. “That was…I’ve never…” A startled little laugh escaped her. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
I kissed her temple, tasting salt on her skin. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart.”
I expected her to want to head back—my place was only a forty-minute hike away. A bed. Privacy. The works. But when I murmured, “Let’s go back to the cabin,” she shook her head, cheeks still flushed.
“No.” Her voice was quiet but certain. “Here. I want it here.”
My cock jerked at the words. The thought of taking her right on this sun-warmed rock, creek singing below us, trees hiding us from everything but the sky…it was reckless and perfect and so damn Hartley.
She moved before I could answer, shimmying out of her jeans and panties in one determined motion, kicking them aside.
Then she was climbing over me, straddling my lap, knees braced on either side of my hips. Her fingers shook only a little as she worked my zipper down. When she wrapped her hand around me—warm, curious, stroking from base to tip—I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning too loud.
“Fuck, Hartley,” I rasped. “You feel so good just holding me.”
She moaned softly at that, her thumb brushing over the head, spreading the bead of wetness there. I helped her shove my jeans and boxers past my hips, far enough that nothing was in the way.
I caught her wrist gently. “I don’t have condoms. You on anything?”
“Pill,” she said, breathless. “Yeah. I’m on the pill.”
That was it—the last thin thread of restraint snapped. I shoved her sweatshirt up, bunching it under her arms.
No bra. She’d hiked an entire mountain in my hoodie with nothing underneath, and the thought that this buttoned-up, color-coded woman had been bare under there the whole time—while I pointed out wildflowers and held branches for her like a damn Boy Scout—short-circuited something in my brain.
Full, perfect breasts spilled into my hands. I stared, stunned for a second at how gorgeous she was—soft curves, dusky nipples already tight from the air and the heat between us.
“Damn,” I muttered. “Look at you.”