“I’m not completely heartless and unreasonable.”

“Thank you,” I said, unsure if it was the wine talking or the comforting feeling of the sun. I stretched out on my stomach across the blanket and let the sun warm my back. Kirk stretched out next to me, resting on his side.

“I’m not completely heartless and unreasonable.”

I smiled then rolled to my back. I leaned up and kissed his lips.

His eyes widened, and he jerked back slightly. “You don’t have—”

“I know, but every time you try to protect me, I make things harder.”

“I manage.”

“I know, but—I just—Can you make me forget where we are? Just for a little while?”

He looked like he was going to argue, but he pressed his lips to mine, and slid one hand up under my shirt. His fingers left tingling coolness in their wake as they traveled up to caress the underside of my breast.

“What are you up to, Silver?”

“We discussed this already. Then we got interrupted and the day went to shit. Can we just skip all of that today?”

His thumb traced the outside of my nipple and I felt it stiffen. Seeing his muscle, watching him use it, and being the victim of its use, it seemed contradictory that he could touch me with such delicacy.

He was probably quite experienced in getting women right where he wanted them with as few steps as necessary. I arched toward his touch, and his soft caresses turned into pinches, and rougher massaging motions. He pulled my leg up and slid his finger up the leg of my shorts and into my underwear while he kissed down my jawline and nipped at my earlobe.

“Unbutton your shorts,” he whispered directly into my ear. “Take them off.”

I did, lifting my hips to slide them down and then, kicking them off. He flipped me over to straddle his hips, and lifted my shirt over my head, before taking my breasts into his hands and capturing each of my nipples between two fingers.

My hips rocked, rubbing against his. I nearly fell forward when he released my breasts and trailed his fingers down my sides. He sat up, and I slid against his hips, into his lap. He took his shirt off and threw it on the blanket behind me, pulling my bare chest against his as he explored my neck and chest with his mouth—and intermittently his teeth. I felt his erection growing under me with each subtle movement I made.

I dragged my fingers through his short hair then pulled back, tracing my fingers over the curves of the tattoo from his shoulder down to his elbow.

“You really like snakes.”

“You want to talk about tattoos right now?” He bit my lip, and then laid me back on the blanket, to unzip his pants and free his erect cock.

I shook my head, lifting my hips to meet him as he slid inside me. As much as I wanted to forget where I was, and why I was doing this, it continued echoing in my head. I wanted to know if this was what it was usually like. And I wanted to gut myself for not only giving in but inciting him.

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