M Leighton: Wild Child

But when I meet his eyes, I don’t. I see lust there, but I also see something else. Something I know is worth waiting for. At least until I can’t stand to wait any longer. That alone is why I just smile when he stops in front of me.

“Damn you, woman,” he breathes, inhaling so deeply I feel his chest brush mine.

I give him my most innocent expression and blink wide eyes at him. “What?”

“You wore this just for me, didn’t you?”

I trail my fingers from my collarbone, down between my breasts to my stomach. “What, this old outfit?”

“Yeah, ‘this old outfit’,” Rusty says, glancing left and right then taking another small step closer to me. I can feel his thighs against mine. And I can feel the growing bulge between them. “This shirt that makes my palms itch to feel your nipples,” he says, tugging at the hem of my shirt, the back of his hand tickling my stomach. “And these shorts that are so short I could slide my fingers right up under them,” he says, reaching one hand down between us to barely stroke my inner thigh. “And feel those damp panties of yours.”

I’m breathless. Already. And I know from experience that it will only get worse. Rusty does to me what no one else in the world can.

“What makes you think they’re damp?”

“Because I know you, baby. I know you put them on with thoughts of me taking them off. I know, even now, you’re wishing that I’d take you upstairs and pull them slowly down your legs so that I could…do things to you.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I whisper. “But we both know that won’t happen so it doesn’t matter.”

“This is going to make you just as miserable as it will me.”

“Maybe.”

Rusty grins. “Oh, no. It will. I’ll see to it.”

I lift one brow. “Is that right? Well then bring it! Touché, pussycat.”

“Touché, indeed.”

With a wink that turns my insides to mush, Rusty reaches around and slaps my butt before he moves past me, his shoulder brushing my aching nipples. I close my eyes for a second, wondering if this might actually hurt me worse than it does him.

********

I flop down in one of the deep cushions of the patio chair. “Phew! I’m glad that’s over.”

I hear Cami’s sigh. She’s sitting on the outdoor sofa with her legs curled under her, leaning into Trick’s side. “Me, too. That was exhausting!”

“But at least it wasn’t embarrassing. I was just sure Rusty’s present would be a sex swing and you’d have to explain it to your mom.”

“Rusty what?” Rusty asks as he appears at the door, stepping out onto the patio.

“I was just telling them I figured you’d get them something like a sex swing.”

He grins and comes to sit in the chair beside mine. “That’s why I wanted to shop for it without you. I wanted to show you I could be un guy-like sometimes.”

“So you’re saying the wine fridge-keg cooler combo unit was your only consideration?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ah-ha! I knew it!”

“Look, I’m a guy. Of course I thought first of a sex swing. But I figured some prudish old blue-haired woman might have a heart attack when it was unwrapped. Or that Cami’s dad might whip my ass.”

“I’d gladly let Jack whip your ass for a present like that.”

“Of course you would, dickhead! But even I don’t love you that much.”

“Well, I think you did a great job, baby,” I croon to him.

“Great enough to get some kind of reward?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I pause for a few seconds. “Sure. What did you have in mind?” I know exactly what he has in mind, but I want to hear it. Even if we can’t do it, I still like hearing what goes on in his head.

“How ‘bout a lil skinny-dippin’?”

I perk up instantly. Not only does that sound cool and refreshing, but it sounds like fun. Hot, playful fun.

“You’re on,” I say, coming to my feet. “You two coming?” I ask Cami.

She looks at Trick and grins. “Yeah, I think we will.”

“We will?” he asks.

“If you want to see me in anything less than what I’m wearing right now, then yes, we will.”

“I’m in,” Trick replies enthusiastically. We all laugh.

The four of us strike out across the yard, bathed in warm breezes and pale moonlight. It already looks like the perfect night for a naughty tryst, which will make it that much harder not to…indulge. But I think Cami’s right. I think maybe this will be a good way to make Rusty see what he’s missing out on. Maybe he’ll realize he doesn’t want to be without me. It’s worth a try anyway. Rusty’s worth a lot of tries.

We drop into single file formation as we trek through the woods. I’ve heard Cami talk about the pond on their property and how much she and Trick love to visit it, but I’ve never been. When the trees part to reveal an oval clearing dominated by a sparkling fresh-water pond and absolute silence, I can see why it’s a favorite of theirs. It would be a favorite of mine, too.

Trick and Cami drift off to one side. I can barely make out their whispers and Cami’s giggles from where I’m standing. It’s just enough privacy for everyone without there being…trouble.

When I feel a palm brush my butt and Rusty appears at my side, I quit thinking of anyone except him.

“Need some help with these?” Rusty asks, trailing his hand over my hip as he walks around in front of me.

“I think I just might. This zipper can be awfully hateful,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Mmm, I figured as much,” he says, stepping in close to me again. I can feel warmth radiating from his body as though there’s nothing between us at all—no clothes, no air, no emotional separation. Just… heat. “But we’d better start with your shirt. I don’t want to get tangled up in it as I’m working on that faulty zipper.” His eyes appear black in the low light, his dilated pupils overwhelming the azure of his irises.

“I’ll trust your judgment,” I reply, my heart already racing.

“Lift your arms,” he commands quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Obediently, I lift my arms over my head and I wait. Rusty watches me for several seconds before he presses his palms to my waist and slides them slowly upward, caressing my rib cage, thumbs teasing my nipples as he drags up the material of my shirt. I close my eyes for a heartbeat as he runs his palms up my arms, bringing my tee with them. When Rusty gently removes the shirt from my head, I open my eyes again, falling head long into the desire I see in his.

“Thank you,” I breathe.

“Now for this pesky thing,” he muses as he slides a finger under the strap of my bra. “I’m sure it could get in the way.”

“I’m sure,” I agree, trying hard to remember my objective so that I don’t get lost in the moment.

Rusty reaches around me and pops open the hook of my bra with one flick of his fingers. He runs his hands up over my shoulders and down my arms, removing my bra straps as he goes.

I see his eyes flicker down. My nipples tighten when I hear him suck in a breath through his clenched teeth. I know he wants to touch them. He loves my body. He’s told me a thousand times as he worships every inch of it. But this time, he’ll have to love it from a distance. Even if it’s a short distance.

“My shorts,” I prompt, knowing I’m dangerously close to giving in to my need of him.

Rusty’s gaze comes back to mine. He doesn’t move. Or speak. He just watches me. I know he’s fighting touching me. And I let him.

Finally, he drops to one knee and reaches for my waistband. Carefully, he unbuttons my shorts and then slowly unzips them. He doesn’t touch me in any way except when he leans forward just enough to press his lips to the top edge of my panties.