18. Clover

Ipull the truck over to the side of the dirt road a few meters away from David's house. I shut off the rumbling engine but leave the headlights on as I pull out my phone.

Before I have a chance to send Neavh a text, I spot a flash of movement and look up to see her stepping out of the house. She inches the door shut behind her and then tiptoes off the small deck before darting down the driveway.

The glare of the headlights illuminates her like a stage show as she sprints towards the truck. She's replaced her overalls with a tiny pair of denim shorts that are barely longer than the hem of her bulky black hoodie.

When she flings open the passenger side door, she's grinning from ear to ear, and I realize I am too. My skin feels electrified, like the whole night is buzzing with a static current that sparks and hisses every time I move.

I turn down the pop station I have playing on the radio.

"Hey," she says as she climbs into her seat.

"Hey," I answer.

We both let out a huff of nervous laughter before she leans in close and drops her voice to a husky growl tinged with a very bad attempt at a southern drawl.

"What's a nice girl like you doing at a place like this in the middle of the night?"

I snort and then clap my hand over my mouth, my cheeks burning. Neavh's shoulders shake with the effort of holding her laughter in.

I peel my hand away and lower my voice too. "Who says I'm a nice girl?"

I expect her to laugh at me, but instead, her eyes flash with a dangerous gleam that has me squeezing my legs together in my seat.

"You gonna drive us somewhere, nice girl?"

I shiver, and I can barely keep my hands from shaking as I turn the key in the ignition.

We're quiet as I turn the truck around. The silence between us is tense with anticipation, like every breath we take is laced with the promise of what's about to happen next.

When I turn onto the highway and begin picking up speed, Neavh rolls her window down, and it takes all my concentration not to stare at the way the wind whips her hair around. The heady scent of night air hits my nose, and when Neavh sticks her head out the window and whoops loud enough to wake the whole town, I laugh and whoop right along with her.

I'm still sneaking glances at her by the time we reach Three Rivers, and I can feel her eyes on me as I lean my torso out the window to punch the manual entry code into the gate. When I glance back over my shoulder, I see her gaze is locked on my ass.

"See something you like?" I ask as I settle back into my seat.

"I see a lot of things I like," she answers, her gaze sweeping over my face and then down to linger on my chest for a moment before landing on the hem of my skirt.

I showered and changed before picking her up. I was worried my little black skirt patterned with sunflowers might be overkill, but she's staring at the bare skin of my upper thighs like she wants to rip my outfit off with her teeth.

I draw in a shaky breath and hit the gas pedal.

The clock on the dashboard says it's almost one in the morning. Aside from a couple lingering bonfires sending up pillars of smoke as some night owl guests enjoy their last beers of the night, the campground is silent and still. I focus on keeping the truck at a crawl when what I really want is to floor it all the way out to the surprise I've set up for Neavh.

She hasn't asked where I'm taking her, but the answer becomes obvious as I drive us out past the most remote block of campsites and up the narrow road to the yurt—or rather, what will eventually become a yurt but is currently a circular platform of wooden boards.

As we get closer, Neavh gasps and slaps her hands on the dashboard like she can't believe her eyes.

"Clover," she says, her voice breathless. "Mais non. No way. Is this real?"

I chuckle, my heart racing as I shut the truck off and kill the headlights.

"Of course it's real."

She looks back and forth between me and the windshield a couple times before scrambling out of her seatbelt and bolting over to get a better look at my set-up.

I had to wait until I was absolutely sure my dad was asleep before I could start piling supplies into the truck. Those supplies have now been arranged to turn what was an empty wooden platform into what I hope will be a luxurious escape under the stars.

I follow after Neavh and watch as she circles the perimeter of the platform, gasping and clapping every time she spots a new detail.

I cross my arms and grin. I did do a pretty great job. The platform is piled with blankets, pillows, and a thick, fluffy comforter. Battery-powered lanterns are dotted around the ground, and a few strings of pulsing mini lights adorn the supply shed. A cooler loaded with every type of snack I could find sits beside the platform, and a bottle of red wine ready to be poured into two waiting glasses is arranged on a wooden tray. I even managed to gather a handful of wildflowers in the dark and stuff them into an old mason jar to serve as a vase.

Neavh spins around to face me and claps both her hands to her cheeks. She looks so damn cute I can't help but beam at her. Not many people get to see the sweet and giggly version of Neavh Beaudoin, and I swell with pride at being the one to bring that side of her out tonight.

"Do you like it?" I ask. "I know it kind of looks like how a sixteen year-old would prepare to lose their virginity. The lights are a little tacky, but it was short notice, and I—"

I'm cut off mid-sentence as Neavh bounds over and flings herself at me hard enough that she almost sends us both toppling to the ground.

I take a few hobbling steps backwards and manage to catch my balance. She's got her arms wrapped around my neck, her face buried in my hair. I circle my arms around her waist and give her a squeeze while we stand there swaying.

"It's perfect," she breathes against my neck. "C'est ravissant. C'est comme un rêve."

I brush my thumbs along the small of her back. "Oh wow. I earned some French. You must like it."

She nods against me. "I love it. I said it's like a dream."

Before I can think better of it, I press my lips to her temple.

Kissing her there somehow feels more intimate than kissing her on the mouth. There's a familiarity to it that makes it impossible to pretend we're nothing but strangers falling into bed together for the first time in years.

Years may have passed, but I still know her. I still know what parts of her body I can touch to make her sigh. I still know the way the lines on her palms feel when I trace them with my fingertip in the quiet moments after we've made each other shiver and fall apart.

I still know she likes to be kissed on her temple when she's scared.

"Are you okay?" I ask as she trembles.

"Yes," she whispers. "It's just…I missed you."

I hesitate for a moment, but here in the dark, there's no holding back on the truth.

"I missed you too."

We loosen our grip enough to lean back and lock eyes. My body is thrumming with the urge to pick up where we left off on the deck earlier, but I wait.

We both do. It's like the woods are whispering to us as the cool night breeze shifts through the branches high overhead.

They whisper a warning.

There will be no going back after this.

If we do this, I'll be blowing up whatever last bits remain of the dam I've spent four years building—the dam that protects me from the memory of her. I'll be letting the full force of Neavh rush through me again, and like rock worn down and reshaped by water, I will not be the same when she's done.

She tenses in my arms, her forehead creasing as she watches the deliberation play out on my face.

"Clover," she says, "if you don't want—"

I don't let her finish.

I dig my fingers into her hips and kiss her with all I've got. It's the only way I can think to convince her how much I want.

I want her so bad I can't breathe. I can't think. I can barely see. Ever since she showed up in River's Bend, I have wanted her in every moment—even the ones when I convinced myself I wished I'd never met her.

I've tried to reason with myself, but I want her without reason. I want her without sense. I want her despite the fact that we are swimming upstream every second we spend together, pushing against the flow of gravity itself like the salmon that swim up the rivers of this island every fall, hell-bent on returning to a place they only remember as a dream.

It's like a dream.

Her words from a few minutes ago echo in my head as we continue to kiss like our lives depend on it. Her tongue brushes against mine, and her moans threaten to make me lose my last shred of concentration, but I still manage to back us up to the platform.

My attempt to gently lower her down to her back is foiled by our feet tangling together as the backs of her calves bump against the wood.

I twist as we fall, trying to break the brunt of the impact. We both end up landing on our sides with a hard thunk that knocks the wind out of me despite the cushioning provided by the blankets.

When I can breathe again, I realize Neavh is laughing.

I prop myself up on my elbow, clutching at my chest while I take a few heaving breaths.

"Smooth," she says with a cackle. "So smooth."

I push her onto her back and straddle her so fast her jaw drops and her eyes flare wide, like two full moons in the dim glow of the lanterns.

"How's that for smooth?" I ask as I rock forward just enough to press my hips against hers.

I'm high on the thrill of teasing her, of owning her. Riding on top of her while she blinks up at me like she'd lay pinned there all night if I told her to, all I can think is that she's mine.

I've never thought of her that way. I've never thought of anyone that way, but the sense of possession burns in my veins like a forbidden chemical.

She left, but she's back, and now she's with me. She's under me, and I'm not letting her go.

Not tonight.

I rock my hips forward again, then again, and again. I find a rhythm, grinding into her as one word repeats in my head to the same frantic tempo.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

She closes her eyes, her neck arching as she cries out from the pressure. Her hands fist the blankets.

I plant my palms on either side of her head and keep rocking my hips. My hair falls around us like a curtain. I can taste the sweetness of her breath. I press my lips to the side of her neck, then trail them lower, inch by inch, as I slide the zipper of her hoodie down her chest.

When I reach her shoulder, I sink my teeth in.

Mine.

Her back arches under me, and she shrieks so loud I worry someone will come running. I start to pull back, afraid I've gone too far, but she grabs fistfuls of the back of my t-shirt and yanks me down on top of her.

"So good," she gasps. "So fucking good."

I kiss the place where I bit her, my tongue darting out to lick the red spot that will be a purple bruise by morning.

She shivers.

"Can you stay quiet for me?"

I've never heard myself sound like this before: threatening and soothing all at once, a hint of fire and a flash of ice in every word.

She nods and mumbles, "Mhmm."

I sit up enough to finish unzipping her hoodie and then fling it open to reveal the plain white tank top underneath. I groan when I realize she's not wearing a bra. Her nipples are hard peaks under the fabric.

I inch the tank top up her stomach. Goosebumps rise on her skin. I flick my gaze up to her face and see she's got her eyes squeezed shut, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I shift her shirt up higher. My thighs tense on either side of her hips, and my chest heaves as I finally slip the shirt up over her breasts.

She makes a strained sound when the cool night air hits the bare skin of her chest, but she does what I asked and stays quiet as I lower my head and close my lips around one of her nipples.

She grabs handfuls of my hair, tugging hard as she squirms underneath me. I swirl my tongue, licking and sucking her as I stifle a groan.

She feels incredible, so soft and sweet and warm. My body is begging to feel more of her skin, to shed every layer between us so I can have all of her.

She whimpers when I lift my head, but her disappointment is replaced by a thrilled gasp when I start tugging off her hoodie. She shifts up off the blankets to help me, and I strip her until she's naked from the waist up.

Then I grab the hem of my t-shirt where I've knotted it around my waist and tug it over my head. I pull my bra off next. Her gaze drops to my chest, her eyes going hazy.

She slides her fingertips up my legs, lifting the edge of my skirt. My thighs twitch. I let out a frustrated growl and push her down onto her back again.

I'm not letting her get at me until I'm finished with her first.

I shift so her legs are wrapped around my waist, my chest pressed against hers. The heels of her sneakers dig into my thighs, and I realize we haven't even taken our shoes off yet.

I don't stop. I don't think I could stop for anything now.

I capture her mouth in a kiss that's slower but deeper than before. I slip my tongue past her lips to taste her while I smooth her hair out of her face. She sighs and bucks her hips up against me.

"You taste good," I murmur.

She smirks, her eyes still closed. "You haven't tasted me yet."

I shift my weight so I can slide one of my hands down between us and pop the button of her shorts.

She hisses.

I grab at the zipper next, tugging down until I can slip two fingers inside her shorts and stroke her over the fabric of her underwear.

She's so wet I can feel it already.

I breathe out hard, dropping my forehead down to press against hers. She parts her legs even farther. I roll off her to lie on my side so I can get better access before I hook my fingers under the edge of her underwear.

"You want it?"

My voice is hoarse, and so is hers when she answers.

"Yes."

I snatch my hand away so I can tug her shorts down to her knees. I don't even bother pulling her underwear down; I just yank them to the side and then swear under my breath at the sight of her bare and dripping for me.

Mine.

I try to go slow. I try to tease her. I try to drag this moment out, but as soon as I feel her again for the first time, I can't help plunging two of my fingers deep inside her.

She clamps a hand over her mouth, her body arching up, strained in a silent cry.

I forget how to breathe.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Then her muscles squeeze around my fingers like a vice, and I curse again before I start to fuck her.

There's no other word for it. I slide my fingers into her again and again while she tears at the blankets, her feet kicking and sliding while her face twists with the effort of holding back all the sounds she's desperate to make.

I'm desperate to hear her. I can't tell what's hotter: knowing she's seconds away from giving in and moaning for me or knowing the only reason she's silent now is because I told her to be.

I rip my gaze away from her face and stare down at my fingers instead. She's practically soaked my whole hand. My throat goes dry at the sight, and I know she's got me nearly as wet just from looking at her.

I have to taste her.

The thought is overpowering. I don't think about the weird angle of my body or the fact that she's not even completely naked yet. I just tug her underwear even farther to the side and hunch over her right then and there.

She stiffens when my tongue strokes her clit for the first time, all her muscles going rigid.

I freeze, panic rising as I wonder if I've gone too far, but when I twist my head to look back up at her face, I see she's tensed up with the effort of fighting off a scream.

I lower my mouth again.

"Do it," I murmur. "Let me hear you."

I stroke my tongue over her again, then again, until she throws her head back and moans my name.

I feel the sound reverberate through my whole body, shaking me to my core.

"Oh my god, Clover," she gasps a second later. "What are you doing to me?"

I keep going, desperate to hear her again.

"Goddamn," I rasp between strokes with my tongue. "No one tastes as good as you."

I groan with frustration as her underwear keeps slipping back into my way. After a couple attempts to push it aside, I sit up and motion for her to kick her shoes off as I tug the scrap of fabric and her tiny shorts the rest of the way down her legs.

I start to reposition myself between them, but she tugs on my skirt to stop me.

"No," she says, her eyes half-lidded and her chest heaving.

I tilt my head. "No?"

She gives my skirt another tug. "I want to taste you too."

I grin at her as a thrill shoots through me. "You can taste me when I'm done tasting you."

She shakes her head, still panting. "Can't wait. Need you now."

I reach over to trail my fingers along her inner thigh. She shivers.

"You don't want my mouth now?"

She sighs, squirming around like she's fighting for self-control.

"I want to taste you while you taste me," she blurts.

I go still. My skin burns as the image of what she's asking for plays out in my mind.

"Y-you do?"

"Yes," she says. "Please. Now."

Her words spur me into action. I rip my shoes off and start to unbutton my skirt, but she grabs my arm to stop me again.

"Please can you keep that on?" she whines. "You look so pretty in that skirt."

She doesn't bother hiding the desperation on her face as she pleads with me. She's vulnerable, laying there completely naked and doing nothing to disguise how much she needs me, and I can't keep myself from facing the truth.

I need her too.

I leave my skirt where it is and slide my underwear down my legs instead. When I've flung them aside, I crawl into position on top of her, knees braced on either side of her ribcage with my palms planted beside her hips.

She's still so wet, the smooth skin of her inner thighs glistening in the lantern light. I'm still admiring her when I feel the first swipe of her tongue.

I cry out, the sound guttural as my head drops forward and my back arches.

She keeps going, her strokes slow and gentle at first before her hands grip my thighs to pull me closer to her face.

She slides her tongue inside me, and I forget all about being quiet.

My legs shake, my vision dancing with flickering starbursts as she continues to fuck me with her tongue. The whole world goes hazy, desperate sounds bursting out of me to echo through the clearing. I know somewhere in the back of my mind that we really will get discovered if I keep making this much noise, but I don't know how to stop.

Then I remember I'm supposed to be tasting her too.

I lower my head, and I eat her pussy with a vengeance while she fucks mine with her tongue.

Its feral and raw and deliciously vulgar. It's fuelled by four long years of anger and pain and frustration, all transmuted into this burning need that singes through us both like a forest fire, incinerating everything it touches, leaving only ash and glowing coals in its wake.

The fire heals us. The fire cleanses who we are and who we were, leaving nothing but the possibility of who we could become.

"Clover."

She cries my name once, twice, and tenses underneath me.

I keep going, putting every ounce of concentration I have left into maintaining my pace as she comes.

She doesn't stop saying my name. She says it over and over and over, the sound fading into a murmured chant as she shakes and writhes before finally going still.

I sigh, twisting my head to rest it against her thigh while we both fight for breath. I hear the breeze rustle through the trees, feel the chill of it on my bare skin.

I climb off her, settling onto my back beside her to give us a break, but she's not having it. She slides down between my legs, her movements sluggish and her eyes still hazy with satisfaction.

"Neavh," I say, reaching down to stroke her hair. "You don't have to. I—"

"I want to make you come in my mouth."

She lays one palm across my stomach, pinning me in place, and any further protests die in my throat.

I swallow and let my head drop to the blankets. She kisses one of my inner thighs and then gets back to work.

She uses her fingers and her tongue this time, and it's only a couple minutes before she's found the perfect combination of movements to have me gasping and squirming for her.

"I'm going to come," I pant. "Fuck, I'm going to come."

She mutters something in French, and even though I've got no idea what the words mean, the sound alone makes me twitch and thrust my hips up.

"Come for me," she says. "Come for me now."

Her tongue goes back to stroking my clit, and I only last another second before I fall apart for her.

The treetops spin above my head, the lights I've strung up glittering like stars as my vision goes out of focus. My back arches. I claw at the blankets and then stuff the corner of one in my mouth to muffle my scream.

By the time I come back down from the high, Neavh is lying on my chest, protecting me from the chill of the night air while I tremble.

My body feels weak and woozy, but I find the strength to wrap my arms around her.

She presses her lips to my collarbone.

I press mine against her temple.

An ache swells deep in my ribcage.

Mine.

It's the only thing I can think as I continue to hold her, waiting for my breathing to even out.

Mine.

At least for tonight.