They shuffled on over to his padded deck chaise and curled up, cocooned in his throw. She snuggled back against his chest, her head leaning on his shoulder.
They watched the gold arc of the sun nudge its way up.
And then she turned her head up in an invitation, and he angled his, and their lips met softly.
For a while they fell in to nearly chaste kisses, leisurely but seductive, reveling in the decadent, delicate discovery of the pleasure that could be had from lips alone. The promise of untold pleasure that lay ahead of them.
And inevitably his hands began to roam, languidly. Less starved, more leisurely, more luxuriating. He stroked her breasts, and she rippled into his touch. Her shuddering, ragged breath as desire overtook her was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard.
She turned around, slowly, gracefully, and straddled him, stroking his cock, then sliding down over it. And the hiss of breath, his head going back hard, was the most erotic thing she’d ever heard. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, moving over him slowly, slowly, even as his hands slid to her hips to urge her on. But no, it was her turn to tease. To watch his eyes go black and intent. To see the cords of his neck go taut. To make him sigh softly, and then beg her just as softly, using her name, as she traced his ear with her tongue and teased herself with the slow rise and fall of her body over him. Slowly taking him into her, then sliding up and away, then slowly easing down again.
His breath was sawing now, and her nipples chafing his bare chest made her ever more lust crazed, and that feeling of soft fire over her skin spread, and she knew she was close.
“Christ... love... I amdying... please...” His words were broken gasps.
He arched up, groaning. Begging.
But she had all the control. She laughed softly, sadist that she was.
“You want it, Eli?”
“Yes.”
“Howbaddo you want it?”
“Fucking essay questionsnow?” he moaned.
She laughed a sorceress’s laugh. And then she showed mercy to both of them. He held her fast, arms locked around her, bucking his hips up to meet her as she came down over him, ever more swiftly, ever harder, until she was whimpering, and then her head fell back on a raw soundless scream as she came, wracked with wave after wave of white-hot bliss, and she felt him shaking in her arms, coming just as hard.
They showered happily and quickly together.
And then all at once she was in a mad rush. “Eep! We have to gonow, Eli.”
He threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and hiking boots.
And then, his heart accelerating to Porsche speed, he hesitated only briefly. And he slid open his nightstand drawer, took something out, and pocketed it.
Since it was only just past dawn and chilly, he tossed Glory one of his sweatshirts and one of his old jackets, both of which engulfed her. Her hands disappeared. The effect was pretty comical.
“I think you should hire me as your stylist,” he said.
She laughed. “Comeon. We have to be there at a certain time.”
“Okay, jeez. You’re not taking me to the dentist, are you? We don’t have an appointment somewhere?”
“Nope. Shhh,” she ordered.
Bossy thing.
As it turned out, they were going on a hike.
She was still nervy. Her hair was a shambles, but he didn’t tell her, because he liked knowing it was because she’d slept in his bed and because his hands had been rummaging around in it.
She held his hand the whole way.
Hellcat Canyon, Whiskey Creek, Coyote Creek. All of it apart from the creatures who made their homes in the trees and shrubs and burrows was still pretty asleep.
They were both pretty sleepy and a little bit sore from all the vigorous lovemaking, and it was a pleasant and dreamlike walk. Leisurely and familiar. Not in fact, unlike actual dreams they’d had about each other over the years, except now they finally got to hold each other’s hands.