“You wanted to help me shuck?”
“Let’s be clear,” he murmured, nipping at me a bit. “I wanted to bend you over that barrel out back and shuck you until there was corn silk everywhere.”
I closed my eyes at the sudden image of Leo, strong and naked, glorious and naked, and also naked, thrusting into me from behind as he tipped me merrily over a rain barrel, while fireworks lit up the night sky and corn silk blew lazily across the yard. Instant heat bloomed low and my hips arched backward, seeking contact with anything that resembled a cornstalk. As one of his hands slipped under my shirt I felt my heart pound faster, my blood racing around my body.
My lips felt lonely. My breasts felt heavy and full. My hips felt in need of very specific guidance, mostly of the back-and-forth kind. And other areas felt achingly empty. I tipped my head back onto his chest. As his mouth moved against my neck, his scent surrounded me, earthy and grassy and salty sun-browned. I looked down as he started popping open my buttons, and saw his hands on my body. Wide, strong, and a little dirty, the line of dirt embedded underneath his nails persisting even though I know he scrubbed before coming over. Coarse, callused, hardworking hands, which were gentle as they eased my shirt from my shoulders to pool on the scuffed floor that was used to long, hot, dirty days. I wanted the same thing from him.
Long, hot, dirty days. And nights.
I spun around, letting him surround me as he leaned me back against the sink. His eyes burned as he took in my red and white and blue, and he grinned, realizing that I’d planned to celebrate this holiday with him in the naughtiest way possible.
“Look at you, Sugar Snap,” he whispered, lifting me as easily as he might lift a kitten, setting me on the edge of the counter, spreading my legs in one swift move. He stood between them and pulled my legs around him as I balanced right on the edge. Then with one finger, placed exactly in the center of my stomach, he poked me. And I fell with a splash into the sink.
“What? Seriously—what?” I sputtered, legs flapping and water flying everywhere.
Leo held me at arm’s length and just laughed and laughed. But when his eyes met mine again, they were less mischievous and more devious. His hands, which had been keeping me from climbing out of the sink while he laughed, now slipped under the water, sliding along the inside of my thighs, underneath my shorts and—
“You’re wet,” he remarked, his gaze heated.
“Well, yeah,” I replied, gripping the edge of the sink as his fingers dipped lower against my—
“Not just from the water.” He moved closer, flush against the counter, as I found myself leaning into his hand, bobbing in the sink. My breath caught. The passion that was always bubbling just under the surface was now catching fire, sending tingles to the tips of everything.
“Did you know your eyes change color?” he murmured, his gaze heated as looked at me closely, so closely.
“Hmm?” I tried hard to keep my eyes open, when all I wanted to do was close them and relish these feelings.
“They change. When you’re excited.” His fingers slipped inside my panties. My back arched involuntarily, and I held so very tight to the edge.
“I know they change . . . color when I’m . . . frustrated . . . fuck, that feels good.”
“They’re usually this light hazel color, maybe a little blue, maybe a little brown, but when they go green . . . mmm.” He sped up his fingers. Which sped up my breathing. He leaned closer, pressing his lips to my neck, kissing a path upwards to just below my ear, where he whispered, “Did you know they go full green? Right before you come?”
I groaned. This man knew me; knew me so well. He stood back a bit, studying me.
“Look at that, they’re turning even more green by the second.”
All I could do was moan at the onslaught of sensations breaking across my body. He watched my eyes, his fingers slipping across my skin as I began to come apart on his hand. But just before I did, he hauled me against his chest, getting him just as wet as me. As he backed through the kitchen and out the back door, my hands immediately dug into his hair, and I kissed him wild. My legs went to wrap around him, but before I could get purchase he set me on my feet in front of the rain barrel and spun me like a top.
“This is just too good an idea to pass up.” He dragged my shorts and panties down my wet legs; seconds later, I heard his zipper. Mmm. “Grab the other side there, Sugar Snap.”
I leaned across, feeling the night air on my bare backside. “Like this?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder, arching my back. What I saw was the stuff of legend. Leo, face buried inside his vintage Screaming Trees tee as he pulled it off. Torso, long and lean and strong as he tossed away the shirt, then popped open the button on his jeans. Which were swiftly pushed down. I shivered as I watched him tear open the condom wrapper with his teeth, then watched his hand disappear inside his jeans. The butterflies in my tummy flew in a thousand directions at once as I saw him holding himself in his hands, rolling the condom down his thick length. Now, this was parade worthy.
His right hand holding himself at the base, his left hand slipped down my spine, splaying wide on the small of my back and pushing me further across the barrel. “Spread your legs a bit further, Rox—just like that,” he murmured, his voice molasses thick. What is it about being told what to do while naked? It thrilled me to no end.
I held my breath as he pushed into me. He let his breath out while he pushed into me. In one long . . . slow . . . exhale. When he was buried deep inside, he said my name. His hands ran up and down my back, not moving inside me yet, just holding so very still, and yet, his hands. Soothing. Stroking. His said my name over and over again, in this gorgeous, raspy whisper that was as sexy as it was intimate. I felt, in a word, worshipped.
Then one hand closed around my shoulder. The other gripped my hip, then he thrust. It felt delicious. “God, I wish you could see how you look right now,” he said, his words pouring down on me. I rolled my back like a cat, pushing back against him. I peeked back over my shoulder once more, turned on even more by the intensity on his face, how he bit down on his lower lip as he thrust, the cords on his neck tightening as he moved my body with his own.
“Tell me.” My breath caught in my throat as he pulled me powerfully back against him.
The corner of his mouth tipped up in a sweet grin. “Your skin is glowing, and it’s not just the moonlight.”
“Yeah?”
“Every time I push into you, you tip your hips back, and Christ, I can feel you all around me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I sighed, squeezing him tightly. I got a groan in response.
“And fuck, your ass looks fantastic like this.” He gave me a light swat on the rear, and I cried out. Not just in surprise. “Duly noted,” he murmured, slipping his hand up my spine to bury it in my hair, twisting a handful around. Tugging slightly, my neck arched, my back arched, and I was perched right on the edge, literally and orgasmically, especially as his other hand slid underneath me, just above where we were connected.
“I wonder what color your eyes are now,” he groaned, his own hips speeding up, punishing, hungry, desperate. Strung out and fevered, I could feel the low ball of tension pulsing through my body, lights flashing before my eyes, his moans thick behind me. I was going full green, coming apart under the night sky, with Leo hard and slick inside me.
Happy Birthday, America.
“Hey, what’s that?” Leo asked.
“That’s my boob.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said, leaning down to drop a sweet kiss on my breast. “But what’s that? The big thing out in the bushes?”
“Clarify, please—or I’m running into the house and leaving you to deal with whatever big scary thing is in the bushes.”
“That,” he said, pointing toward the—
“Oh, that’s the old Airstream” I said, relaxing back into his arms. Which were suddenly no longer there.
“One of those old trailers?” He was already on his feet, leaving my breast unattended. Grumbling as I buttoned my shirt, I followed him across the yard to where he stood. “Wow, look at that! How long has this been out here?”
“Hard to say. When was Nixon in office?” I replied.
He turned from where he’d been poking around the underbrush. “You’re kidding.”
“I never kid when I’m half naked,” I answered, primly holding together my shirt. Which was mostly unbuttoned.
His eyes roamed across my body in a cursory way—almost as if, as a boy, he was unable to not look at a half-naked girl—but then quickly returned to the trailer. I tried not to take it personally.
Pulling a few branches off, he thumped on the metal. “Any idea of the last time it was on the road?”
“Still waiting for you to remind me of when Nixon was in office,” I answered.
“Woman. You’re killing me,” he moaned, using his phone flashlight to try and peer inside. “People use these for all kinds of things, you know. Not just camping.”
“That may be—but I’m sure critters have been camping in there for years.”
“Food truck.” He turned to look back at me, his flashlight shining right in my face.
Temporarily blinded, I shielded my eyes. “You want to shine that somewhere else?”
“Seriously, Roxie, this could be a food truck. They’re everywhere these days.”
“Dude, I’m from LA. Food trucks are a dime a dozen there.”
“Dude,” he said, suddenly right in front of me, flashlight turned off. “You’re from Bailey Falls. And they’re not a dime a dozen here yet.”
My mind instantly ran through my culinary Rolodex, sorting through dishes that would work well in a mobile environment. Then it moved to the farmers’ market—and the food-truck-free parking lot.
They say when an idea strikes, it’s like a flashbulb goes off over your head. In my case, it was fireworks from city hall. Going off right over the back of my property, where an ancient Airstream gleamed in the moonlight through decades of overgrowth. And a farmer, backlit by stars and spangles, wearing only his faded jeans and a giant grin.
From up here, the town was spread out like a postcard, nighttime lights twinkling, the Hudson River unseen in the dark but suggested by the darker smudge on the horizon. And over all of it, big splashes of fiery red, white, and blue, as the faintest hint of the high school band could be heard.
Leo’s hands wrapped around my hips, standing me right in front of him, facing the fireworks, the Airstream, the town. I allowed my head to fall back against his chest, soaking in the warmth of his skin. His arms crossed in front of me, a sigh of contentment escaping as his chin settled on top of my head. And as we watched the fireworks, and I relaxed into him, I realized that the sigh came from me. And that the contentment was mine.
And for just one moment, I allowed my imagination to run wild. A food truck filled with old-fashioned cakes. A line around the block of loyal customers ready to place their orders. And Leo, there at the end of a long, hard day, ready for a long, hard night.
And I shivered, though I was very warm inside his arms.