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Christa
Waking up in his arms is the best feeling ever, and I stare up at him, loving how peaceful he looks when he sleeps.
“Good morning,” he murmurs after his eyelashes flutter open.
“Did you feel me watching you?” I ask.
“I’m used to it,” he replies.
At first, I’m confused by this, but then I realize what he means. “Care to talk about it?”
“Nope,” he replies.
I rub circles on his chest with my red-painted nail, and lift my gaze to his. “You know you can share anything with me. I won’t judge.”
“I just want to put that part of my life behind me. What I did... my time locked up... I wish I could just forget about it all. Prison stories aren’t as exciting as you think they are.”
I frown. “I didn’t think they were. I just wanted to let you know that if you needed to vent or even share a story, no matter how boring it is, I’ll listen, and I promise to keep it to myself.”
“That’s what my therapist is for,” he says. “You, gorgeous, are for keeping my bed warm and my heart full.”
“I can live with that,” I reply, finding my smile again.
I slide my hand down his chest and grip his morning wood, stroking it softly.
He lets out a low groan and kisses me. My legs part as he finds me wet for him, and it only takes a few minutes for both of us to get each other off with just our hands. Afterward, we laugh like a couple of kids and then shower together.
***
“I can’t believe you dragged me on a hike,” I huff, throwing daggers with my gaze at Eric as we reach the top of the crest. My new blue Nikes are coated red with dirt, and I silently pray it will come out in the wash. With my hands on my knees, I try to regulate my breathing.
“Wimp,” he replies, setting his backpack down in front of a large rock before sitting on it. He pulls two water bottles from the side pocket and hands me one. “Hydrate, grumpy.”
I say nothing as I snatch it from him, pop the lid open, and take a swig. The cold water feels glorious as it slides down my throat.
“We only have another mile to go to get to the top. Isn’t that exciting?” he asks.
“Don’t push it,” I murmur, drinking more water. It’s so dry and warm, I feel like I’m in the desert.
“Slow down, don’t gulp too fast.”
“Fine,” I say, flipping the lid closed and handing him back the bottle to replace in the backpack he carries. Since he insisted on a hike, he can do the heavy lifting.
“Want a bar?” He tosses me a Kind bar.
“I hate nuts, but I’m so hungry I’m gonna eat it anyway.” I tear open the package and bite into the fruit, nut, and chocolate. I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.
He chuckles in response and watches me.
I look up into the sky to see the sun is directly overhead, which means it’s about noon. Mid-April weather is hit or miss in Colorado, and it’s still chilly, but the exercise is gratefully making it feel warmer. What I’m not grateful for is how thin the air is.
“It’s hard to breathe,” I parrot my inner thoughts.
Without a word, he rummages into his pack and hands me a green can. I read the label: Portable Oxygen Cannister.
“Pull off the lid and suck,” he instructs.
I obey, and immediately feel better and less grumpy. “You thought of everything.”
“Not my first rodeo. C’mon, let’s finish this.” He indicates for me to hand him the oxygen, but I refuse.
“I’m gonna hold onto this. Unless you need it?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”
Showoff.
We continue our trek up through the red dirt path of the mountain, and I ask, “So when you say let’s finish this, you mean a rich man in a helicopter is gonna whisk down and give us a ride back down the mountain? Because it feels like once we reach the top, we’re only halfway done with the hike.”
He chuckles, and says, “No, hiking down is the easy part. It’s the uphill that’s rough.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I say, “I don’t believe you. Don’t you have rich friends? Don’t any of them own a helicopter we could charter?”
He stops his hike and turns to me. I try not to laugh at the flaps draping down from his hat that cover his ears and neck, or the ascot-looking handkerchief thing around his neck. “You really hate this?”
Do I?
I mean, I could think of a hundred different ways we could spend time together, but this much physical exertion isn’t it.
“No,” I lie. “As long as I can spend time with you, it’s all good. I’m just... ah, out of shape.”
He draws me in close, our warm bodies flush. “Well, I happen to love your shape.” Then, he kisses my nose and waves. “C’mon. We’re almost there.”
I flush at the feel of his lips on me, albeit briefly, and keep hiking. I’m using a large stick I found to help me keep my footing because I’m clumsy as hell.
“Look, I can see the top!” He points and I shield my eyes with the flat of my hand while I look up. We’re getting close and I see snow at the peak. Which explains why I’m less sweaty and almost cold.
“Yay,” I mutter sarcastically so he can’t hear it. I go to take a step again and stumble, falling onto my knee. I cry out.
“Oh, my God, Christa!” Eric rushes over as I’m humiliated, on the ground, covered in dirt. I My knee throbs and stings, and I pant, noticing the can of oxygen has rolled away from me when I put my hands out to brace my fall. I look to see a large rock tripped me, and I silently curse nature and basically all of Colorado.
Without a word, Eric unzips his pack and pulls out a first-aid kit. He pours something on the gash that stings and causes me to hiss, then gently wipes it away with a disposable cloth. Then, he dresses the wound with a large bandage.
“Can you stand?” he asks after putting the kit away. He holds his hand out, and I grab it.
“Yes, it’s just a scrape. I’m fine. But like I told you—”
“Exercise is bad, I know.”
We both laugh and he hugs me. “We can head back down now. I can see how much you hate this.”
“I don’t... hate it. Just not used to it.”
With his arm around me, he points off into the distance. “You see those cables?”
I squint to where he points. I hadn’t noticed before, but there are lines leading from the top of the mountain and disappearing through a cloud bank going south. When I squint, I see small cars attached to the lines, like a ski lift.
“Yes! What is that?”
“I was going to surprise you and tell you that we don’t have to hike down. We can take a gondola lift down to a mostly flat area. I mean, it’ll be about a quarter mile walk back to the car, but it’s a nice ride down. Damn beautiful view. But...”
“But what? Let’s go!” I say, grabbing the sleeve of his Under Armor shirt.
“But we have to get to the top before we reach it. Can you still hike?” he asks, scooping some hair that escaped my ponytail to loop it behind my ear.
I roll my eyes. “It’s just a scratch. Let’s go!”
I’ve got a second wind now that we have a carefree ride down the mountain. A gondola ride sounds like heaven right about now.
***
The breath leaves my body as we’re whooshed into the air the minute the lift’s door closes. Just the two of us, Eric’s backpack on the floor of the car that has a faint smell of vomit, but I don’t care. He slides his arm around me.
“Look at this view!” I cry, pointing at the deep canyon below us. I see nothing but trees and rock and my stomach turns. But... it’s gorgeous. “I can see the whole city from here! Hell, multiple cities!”
I turn to see Eric chuckling in my ear. “I love how excited you are. First time, I assume?”
“I didn’t even know this was here. Shit... I need to get out more.”
“I’ll make sure that happens.” He lifts his sunglasses and stares into my eyes, and I’m so mesmerized by his blue orbs that I no longer have the desire to look at the scene surrounding us. Then, he kisses me, and I lose my breath.
As our tongues mingle, our hands wander. I’m missing out on a beautiful scene, but I don’t care. Eric is all I see. My hand moves to his belt and I unbuckle it, then unbutton his khaki shorts before running the zipper down. He’s predictably hard, and reaching into his underwear, I run my thumb over the tip of his cock, loving the feel of his precum oozing out. I break the kiss and take a look around. The nearest cars are at least ten feet in front and behind us, so lower myself to the floor, using his backpack as a cushion for my poor knee, and yank down his pants and underwear. My mouth latches onto the head of his cock, and while making eye contact, I give it a hard suck, then use my tongue to lick him from base to shaft. He moans and closes his eyes, his head craned back.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs.
This, of course, encourages me, so I lick some more, running my tongue over the veiny shaft and then swirling it over his cock head. He grips my ponytail like a handle and I love it. Next, I take his entire dick in my mouth, loving how it bumps the back of my throat. I hum in appreciation and his cock jerks in appreciation. More precum oozes out and I lap it up with each turn up to the top.
“I’m so close,” he groans, and I reach up to rub my nails over his balls. I follow my mouth with my fist, running it up as it chases after my lips. He becomes impossibly hard after a few strokes, and then I feel him explode into my mouth, his grunts accompanying the grip on my hair as he orgasms. I delightfully swallow and wipe the corners of my mouth with my finger as I smile up at him.
“Fuck, baby. We have like a minute before we reach the bottom.”
I turn to sit on the bench while he pulls up his shorts and zips up.
“I’m so fucking wet I’m about to start touching myself,” I whisper in his ear.
“You just wait,” he says, kissing my jaw. “I’ll make you come so many times you’re gonna beg me to stop.”
I gush some more at his words.
The quarter-mile hike down to his car is torture. Once we reach it, he instructs me into the backseat and closes the door. I’m thankful the windows are tinted dark, as a lot of other hikers are now getting in their cars to go home.
He yanks down my bike shorts and immediately dives into my pussy. With both fingers spreading me wide, he spears his tongue and in out of me, lapping up my clit each time until I start to tremble. My uterus cramps and my fingers clench his short hair as the climax builds.
“I’m gonna come,” I whimper as he latches onto me and sucks hard.
The most blinding, intense orgasm of my life rockets through me and I scream, not caring who hears.
“Fuck yeah, come on my face,” he murmurs, lapping at me like it’s his last meal.
***
We chat about Taryn and Carter’s upcoming wedding as we wait for the food to be delivered.
“It’s been a while since I’ve worn a monkey suit,” Eric comments, and it makes me wonder if he had to wear an orange jumpsuit every day for the last six years. The thought literally gives me nightmares. Of course, I don’t ask.
“I bet,” is all I can think to say. Thankfully, the server drops off our meals.
He smirks as we dive into our food.
“What?” I ask.
“I can’t believe you blew me in a gondola lift.”
I glance around the Indian restaurant, but nobody’s paying us any mind. “And I can’t believe you devoured me in the backseat of that tiny Audi. Between my big ass and your height, how did we even fit?”
We both laugh, and I snort so hard curry rice is almost embedded in my nose.
“I’d do it all again,” I say when I recover.
“Well, I don’t think I’ve had a mile-and-a-half-high BJ before.”
I chuckle and fork some tandoori chicken. “We’ll have to do it again. Minus the fall on the rock.”
“You mean minus the hike,” he replies, plucking lamb from his kebab.
I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “It’s fine. I know what to expect next time. Knee pads, junk sneakers, portable oxygen, a better attitude...”
We both laugh and finish our meal in comfortable silence.
After dinner, we go for a stroll around a small lake near the restaurant. Waterfront places are rare here in Colorado, and most of the lakes are manmade in the city, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a beautiful walk under a clear April sky, his hand in mine.
“This has been the perfect day,” Eric says, kissing my temple as we walk.
I turn to him. “I agree. Why are you so good to me?”
He looks surprised at the question, then shrugs. “It’s easy to be good to you. You’re a good person. You make me happy and you aren’t high-maintenance.”
I laugh at that. “Are you sure? You should see what I spend on my hair, nails, and makeup.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just... easy.” Then he starts singing, “Easy Like Sunday Morning” by Lionel Ritchie, and I laugh.
“Like, you’re... just no fuss. You don’t demand things. You don’t ask about my money or my time... away. You’re just you. You let me be.”
His words warm my heart. I always thought these things about me, but wondered what was wrong and started to think maybe guys didn’t want those things since I’d been single so long.
“You know, Taryn told me not to hook up with you,” I admit. “Told me you’d use me and throw me away.”
He stops walking, his brows hitting his hairline. “She fucking said what?”
“I’m serious. Said she read some shit about people who just get out of... prison, and said those relationships don’t last. They’re just hookups. Just sex. It scared me, Eric. It still does.”
He places both hands on either side of my face. “Listen, Christa, and listen good. Taryn doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about. Yes, it happens. It’s not all the time though. I didn’t leave that place vying for a hookup and a bunch of pussy. I knew I had a lot to fix about myself, and I certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship. You and I... we just kind of fell together. Do you know what I mean?”
I nod, completely agreeing. “Yes, I do. That’s how I feel too. Still... I worry.”
Eric leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips. Opening his eyes he says, “You don’t need to. I love what we have. I want this. You’re my person. Even if you are too good for me.”
It hurts to hear that, and no amount of words is going to make him change his mind. I’d have to prove it with actions. But the caretaker part of my personality—the part that always wants to “fix” someone—won’t let me continue to let him hurt.
“I’m not, though. I’m just a regular girl. I have a past too, you know. Maybe not as... sordid as yours, but I’m no angel.”
“Yes, you are,” he replies immediately. “One sent from heaven that I couldn’t have possibly asked to be more perfect.” He pulls me flush against his body and wraps his arms around my waist. “You’re fucking perfect and I’m never letting you go.”
It warms my entire body to hear those words. Yet, Taryn’s also rings in my ear: “I’ll introduce you, but it won’t be for a while. I’m reading a book right now and trust me, you don’t want him fresh outta prison. Let him go find some ho to get his sex-deprivation outta his system, and when he’s ready, I’ll introduce you.”
I hope I’m not that ho.