Pick Me Up

“No, I mean, will it bother you if I tell you what I want, you know…in graphic terms?”

His eyebrows flew up as he reached down, brushing a kiss over her flushed cheek.

“You mean you want to talk dirty?”

“If that’s something you’d like.”

“Hell, yeah,” he uttered, leaning down to her ear and giving her a demonstration of what she was asking for, telling her in the coarsest terms he could think of what he wanted to do to her, how hard, for how long, and then what he wanted to do all over again. He felt her breath hitch, and knew it had worked for her.

As he settled down between her thighs, pressing against her but not entering, she returned the sentiment, but she upped the ante. Putting her hands on either side of his face and staring directly into his eyes, she told him in the coarsest language he’d ever heard a woman use what she wanted him to do to her, how hard, for how long, and then what she wanted to do all over again.

It was a mega turn-on and before they could say another word, in one smooth move, he lifted her legs up over each of his shoulders and slid inside of her without hesitation, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out in pleasure, welcoming him, and he had to settle for a moment, stilling as he sank inside of her.

“Sweet Jesus, Lauren, you’re so tight…incredibly freakin’ hot inside…”

She only moaned in delighted response, her breath coming in hard, short pants that kept rhythm with his thrusts. He pushed deeper, her internal muscles clenching around him. God, if there was a heaven, this was it. His body was tied in a thousand tiny knots. When she started to come, he watched her, each of those knots gloriously releasing as his own climax exploded.

He went deeper, and deeper still, his arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her in place, seeking whatever it was his body needed. His mind disengaged completely as sensation took him over, and he followed it wherever it led him. When his vision finally cleared, he was trembling from head to toe. So was she.

He moved over and dropping to her side, drew her up against him. She was hot, slick and breathing hard. She smelled like flowers and the best sex of his life.

“Are you okay? I kind of lost it there at the end, I hope—”

She put a finger to his lips, and whispered, “It was fabulous. But be quiet now.”

She snuggled into him and promptly dozed off. Brett chuckled, and did as she said.

LAUREN WOKE UP FACEDOWN, crosswise on the bed, her feet hanging over one end, her head precariously close to tipping over the corner. Her black dress and underwear were spread around the room, which itself looked like it had been subject to a minitornado.

“Man, housekeeping is going to love us,” she said, laughing, rolling over and noting several well-used muscles protesting in the best way. Her body had never been so delightfully used and she sat for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She counted one, two, three, four—and oh, yes, there was number five—condom packages, and she smiled again.

What a night. Who knew she could be so wild, or that a man would like it?

She felt like a new person—one who badly needed a hot shower.

“Brett?” Sensing she was alone, as she got up she looked around and saw a slip of paper on the table by the door.

Morning, gorgeous. Went to get some regular clothes, and will meet you for breakfast at the café across the street? Don’t hurry. I’ll wait. B.

She smiled, putting the note down and then picking it back up again. It was a…momento. Something she’d have to keep besides memories of a night she wanted to remember every day for the rest of her life. It would remind her how crazy she could be, how passionate and free. It was like really being herself for the first time. It would also remind her of what being with a real man could be like, someone who wanted her and didn’t hold back.

Humming, she picked up her clothes, dressed and walked back to her room, smiling all the way. She’d get a shower, get dressed and have breakfast with the man she’d remember forever. Then she’d get on with the rest of her life.

SHE FOUND HIM SITTING in the café’s outdoor seating area, a newspaper in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He looked like he was posing for the cover of a leisure magazine, decked out in new jeans, a red button-down shirt and new cowboy hat along with the same boots he’d been wearing the day before. Apparently boots were standard gear, even with a tux.

He didn’t see her yet, as she waited to cross the street. It was a little surreal here, she thought. The narrow streets buzzed with activity, like any town, but the air was hot and dry, and everywhere she looked sand, scrub and mountains surrounded them. It was a little like being at the bottom of a large, rocky bowl.

Back home the leaves would be turning, and people would be getting ready for Halloween. It was getting colder, and Thanksgiving was a month away. Here, it was like midsummer, though there were some cardboard jack-o’-lanterns and black cats hanging in windows around the town.

Walking slowly across the street, she felt her nerves kick in again, as they’d been doing on and off since she left the room. Last night had been a fantasy come true, a baptism by the best kind of fire into her new life. But what would today bring? She’d almost considered just leaving without saying goodbye—guys did it all the time, right? She wanted to preserve the night just as it was.

As she came closer, her mind’s eye snapped another picture she’d never forget—he was impossibly handsome. Just about any guy would look good in a tux—and she knew for sure he looked great out of his—but now he looked…real. Earthy, natural and strong, he was part of the land around him. He just looked so right, and so incredibly sexy sitting there.

He glanced up, catching her eye, smiling, and she smiled in return, images of everything they’d done together the night before coming back to her suddenly. As she approached the table, he stood and drew out her chair. She could barely say a clear good morning, she was so nervous. He didn’t move back to his own chair, but leaned down, brushing his lips across her ear.

“I hope you got enough sleep,” he whispered, nipping her lightly on the nape of her neck, sending jolts of desire through her before he straightened and returned to his own seat.

“I passed out, and I feel wonderful, if a little achy,” she answered, grinning as her nerves vanished. His touch was magic. What was it about being with this guy? The minute she was with him or when he touched her, it was like she morphed into this new, confident, sexual person.

Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Didn’t most people tend to get tongue-tied and awkward when they were actually with the person they desired? Not that she was complaining—it felt wonderful to flirt so easily, to feel so free with herself. “I hope you didn’t wait on breakfast for me.”

He laughed. “I had a little something, but it wasn’t very long ago. I’m used to being up early, eating more at the beginning of the day. Luckily the resort down the street runs a twenty-four hour shop, so I got some clothes, showered while you were still sleeping and came down. I’m only about an hour ahead of you. Hungry?”

She held his stare. “Oh yeah.”

“Keep looking at me like that, lady, and we’re heading back to the room.”

His tone was teasing, but his eyes told her he was serious. She smiled, blushing as she peered down at her menu.

“Everything looks good.”

“It is.”

She made a decision and closed her menu, sitting back in her chair as a waitress set a pot of coffee on the table and took their order.

“This place, this entire town is so incredible. I look around at these canyons, and can’t imagine who came down here and thought, hey, this would be a good place to put a restaurant.”

Brett laughed. “Well, a lot of it has to do with where the water is. There’s a supply here, good drainage at the base of the mountains, and people in this part of the country tend to gather where the water is. These spots have hosted all kinds of small ramshackle communities over time, homesteaders, mining, ranching, whatnot. Every now and then one of those communities sticks and becomes something more, like Soul Springs.”

“Are there actual springs?” She looked around—the place seemed so barren compared to the lush forests and farms of her home state.

“Underground ones, yes. A few years back one of them caved in, creating a pond of sorts where the kids like to go swimming. It’s just over that ridge.”

He pointed and she tried to imagine a pond in this environment. Water was the norm back home.

“I wouldn’t think there would be enough rain here to support ponds and rivers,” she commented.

“It comes, and when it does, it comes fast.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It can be. Anything and anyone in the way of a river rushing down a canyon can be washed away, and it happenes from time to time.”

“I’ve always heard there’s a lot of life in the desert, you just have to look for it.”

Then their breakfast arrived, steaming, aromatic plates stacked with bacon and pancakes for him, and a Mexican omelet for her.

“This is fantastic,” she said. He reached over, putting a few slices of his bacon on her plate. She started to protest, but it smelled wonderful, thicker and juicier than the store-bought stuff she was used to.