45. Marnie

The girls are growing on me.

Everyone is, if I’m honest.

Back home, in Lincoln, everything we do always feels produced. The tastings at restaurants. The gallery nights. We have fun, but there’s nothing relaxed about it.

This is the complete opposite. We eat from tin foil and when we’re done, Bo produces a guitar, picking out old classics. It’s easy. Natural. Nobody’s got their phone out.

The sun set long ago, taking the summer heat with it. But the fire is warm. Sparks, or rabbits, as Dusty calls them, travel up in the black sky. I can’t get over the multitude of stars strewn across the sky like somebody spilled the glitter.

Dusty sits behind me, letting me recline against his warm chest. When he gets up, I feel the chill of the night air and wrap my arms around my knees. Erin and Andy changed back into their clothes and I’m thinking they had the right idea.

When Dusty returns, he’s got a pair of his sweats and a tee in his arms. He tugs me to my feet, pulling me outside the halo of the fire. “I didn’t want you changing out of that bikini.”

He murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple. “I want to take that off myself.”

Excitement shimmers down my spine and suddenly I’m wondering when we can go back to the tent.

Biting my lip, I nod. We both laugh at how big his sweats are on me. He tugs the waist all the way up past my ribs until I’m protesting and laughing, threatening to change out of the bikini if he doesn’t behave.

That sobers him up, and he settles the waistband of those sweats low on my hips, tying the strings so they stay in place. He insists on putting the shirt over my head himself and the instant it covers my chilled skin; I feel ten times cozier. I snuggle into his warm, bare chest. “What about you? Aren’t you cold?”

“Not at all. It’s a perfect night.”

He bends down, kissing my neck. “Perfect.”

“How about we skip the bonfire and just go back to the tent?”

He grins. “Not yet. I’m still making memories with you.”

“Do we have to? Memories are overrated.”

“For a little while.”

I drag my fingers down his chest. “Fine. But I’m going to make it hard for you.”

He bumps his hips against me. “Baby, it’s already hard. Why do you think I had you sitting in front of me?”

I can feel him, heavy and long, restrained by his swim trunks.

I let him drag me back to the bonfire, muttering about him being a glutton for punishment.

He sits down, pulling me between his legs. I lean back against his chest, pressing the small of my back against his bulge. His knees draw up on either side of me, framing me in. My elbows hook over his hips, fingers tracing lines up and down his thighs, his knees.

In the fire’s flickering shadows, he slides his hand under my shirt, his shirt, and splays his fingers across my tummy. His hand travels ever higher. I keep a nervous eye out for witnesses, but everyone is engrossed in the play-by-play of some ancient homecoming game.

Fingertips glide over my breast, and he cups it, pinching the nipple. I twitch, arching against him, and can feel the rumble of his low laugh vibrating through his chest.

How’d the tables get turned? I was supposed to be teasing him.

Curling a hand around the back of his neck, I tug his head towards me so I can put my lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”

His hand slides down to my tummy and he pulls me closer, but he’s got a lazy smile on his face. He’s in control and he knows it.

I’m not above begging. I let my hips squirm against his, nipping at his ear, feeling the little silver ring against my lips. “Please, Dusty. I need you now.”

His cock jerks against my back, prodding me. And then he’s standing, pulling me to my feet. It’s a short walk to the tent. I climb inside, waiting on my knees. He follows behind, zipping the door flap shut behind us. We’re close enough to the bonfire that shadows and light flicker through the walls, casting us in dim light.

Outside, Josh says something in that quiet drawl of his and everyone bursts out laughing.

Dusty’s on his knees, dragging me up against him. “Hear that, baby?”

His hands slip under my sweats, curving around my ass. “Everyone is just a few feet away. You’re going to have to be very quiet unless you want everyone to know what I’m doing to you.”

A shiver works its way down my spine and he pulls me hard against his hips, waiting. I nod, already committed to being silent.

“Good girl.”