64.

Dusty

I already had a bunch of pillows and blankets in the back of the truck to watch fireworks. The guys and I usually line our pickups side by side along main street and watch together.

I didn’t think we’d be parking out at the West Eighty, just the two of us. But this is infinitely better.

She’s in the back of the truck, helping me line the truck bed with blankets, and I’m just struck by how good she looks out here.

Under the moonlight.

In that dress.

It’s like she belongs. Like she was meant to be a part of all this. A part of my life.

I left the radio on and it plays softly in the background. She sits in the middle, leaning back on her arms as she stares up at the sky. “You can see the stars so much better out here. It’s beautiful.”

I settle next to her, but I’m not looking up. A million, billion stars up there and they don’t compare. “Mm-hm. Stars. Very pretty.”

She laughs, turning to me with a playful twist to her lips. “Glad to see somebody’s back to his old self.”

I tilt my head, playing dumb. “Was he ever not his old self?”

She climbs onto my lap and kisses me. Guess we’re done flirting. Fine by me. I put my hands on her waist, tugging her closer as my tongue slips between her lips. She grinds her hips against me, moaning into my mouth when she feels what I’m packing. My hands slide down to her round ass, squeezing her through the thin fabric. Tugging roughly at her skirt, I yank it out from under her and slide my hands over her panties. My fingers slip under her panties and I stretch my hands out across her smooth skin.

She pushes against my chest, forcing me onto my back. Leaning over me, she puts her soft tits over my face. I nip at them through the fabric of her dress, her thin bra. With her hips lifted above mine, I take the opportunity to shrug my jeans off, kicking them away. She sits back on my hips, her panties and my boxers are the only thing separating us. My erection pushes against the fabric of her panties, dipping into her wet pussy.

I can’t get enough of her. She’s right here, in my arms, and it’s not enough. I want to hold her and press her into me until we’re the same thing. I want to be her shadow and follow her wherever she goes.

I want to be inside her and have her be all around me.

Bracing her in my arms, I roll us over, settling between her hips. My hand follows the soft curve of her tummy. I slide my fingers under her panties, letting the middle finger trace down her center, dipping inside.

“You’re ready, aren’t you, baby girl?”

She bites her lip, nodding.

I push my finger deeper. “You been keeping this warm for me?”

“All. Day. Long.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “You, too?”

She finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. “I never stop thinking about you.”

“Yeah?”

I plunge my finger in and out.

She gasps, lifting her hips. A soft laugh tumbles off her lips. “As if you didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t.”

I insert a second finger. “What do you think about?”

Her hands clutch and my shoulders and she stifles a moan.

“Marnie. Tell me.”

One of her hands grips my wrist, pinning it between her legs. As though I’d move it.

“Your cock.”

“You think about my cock?”

She nods, lips parting.

I lower my lips to her ear. Nipping at her neck. “What do you want to do with it?”

“I want you to fuck me with it.”

With one arm tucked under her back, I cast around for my jeans, and the condom I thoughtfully tucked in the front pocket. In the darkness, I think I see a vaguely denim-looking pile of fabric twenty feet away. I must have kicked my jeans farther than I thought. “Ah, shit.”

I start to pull away and she wraps her ankles around my hips. One hand pulls my cock from my boxers and the other shoves her panties to the side. “Now. Please.”

Hell. Yes.

I let her guide the head inside. The moment it pops in, she lets go of my shaft, sighing in pleasure or relief. I gather her into my arms and thrust my hips forward. Her back arches against my forearms. I pull back and thrust in, deeper this time, and a soft moan tumbles from her lips.

I’m still trying to get over how good it feels to be inside her like this. Feeling everything.

Every little thing.

It makes every nerve in my body come alive. A soft, warm breeze sails over my back, cooling the sweat on my spine. I can feel the moonlight. I swear to God I can. It’s lighting me up, both of us, and I think if I keep going like this, moving inside her, that I can make it last forever.

It’s fun to play rough and ready with her. She and I both get off on the domination thing.

But the way I’m moving with her, in sync, has nothing to do with games.

I’ve never really understood what people meant when they talked about making love. The phrase was a bit cringey, to be honest.

But here, with her, under the stars and the big old Nebraska sky, I get it.

It’s poetry in motion.

With this connection, I’m telling her something. With my kisses. With my hands.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I hold myself a little above her so that I can watch her face—memorize the way her eyelashes flutter as she comes. There’s a sense of significance tonight. I need to hold on tight because she could sift through my fingers at any moment. Gone. Smoke on the wind.

Is this the last time?

I can’t think about it.

I have to think about it.

But then she’s wrapping her ankles around my hips, moving in a way that makes thought impossible. Tension coils in my stomach, building, until I feel everything tensing up. I start to pull back, but she’s got her ankles locked around my hips.

“Can you…”

She falters, looking shy.

I’m trying to be a good listener, but that pussy is making it pretty hard and I’m about one stroke away from losing it.

She sighs, burying her face in the crook of my neck. “Come inside me, Dusty. I like the way it feels.”

The vulnerability in her voice, the request in itself, does me in. I come hard, pumping into her, wringing a second bonus orgasm from her.

When the hurricane passes. When the waves settle, I kiss her lips, her cheekbone, and rest my forehead on her shoulder.

She encourages me to give her my weight. I realize she’s laying on a hard metal truck bed, blankets be damned, so I hold most of my weight back. She sighs happily, fingers toying with my hair. I shower her with soft kisses.

“Hey Dusty?”

Her fingers swirl in my hair.

“Hm?”

My cock is still snuggled up in her pussy. I’m feeling remarkably content.

“You never asked if I’m on birth control.”

Ah. She noticed that.

I suppose she would. She tends to be the responsible one. “Are you on birth control?”

She laughs, lightly slapping my shoulder. “A little late now, isn’t it?”

I pull back a little, looking down at her face. Lit up by the moon like that, she’s never looked more beautiful. “I didn’t ask because it doesn’t matter.”

Her eyebrows pinch together in a slight frown. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m good either way.”

My cock is still semi-hard, so I push it in deeper.

A reluctant smile tugs at her lips. “Don’t try to distract me.”

With a sigh, I pull out and roll to the side. Leaning on my elbow, I prop my head up and tuck her hair behind her ear.

She puts her hand over mine. “You’re saying you wouldn’t mind if we got pregnant?”

A flush of happiness surges through my chest at the thought alone. “I’d be thrilled.”

Her eyebrows climb. “You’re serious?”

“Very.”

I pause, studying her expression, the way the moonlight reflects in her eyes. “Does that bother you?”

“No.”

Her response is immediate. “I mean, I don’t know what to do with that, if I’m honest. I’d have to think about it. But I am serious about you.”

I want to ask her why she’s running then. Why is she still bent on selling? I was starting to fall in love with the idea of Marnie and me working together, creating something new and beautiful on her family’s land. I want to ask why. But I don’t want to spoil the moment.

What I have is now. And if that’s all I get, that’s enough.

I lay back, slipping my arm under her so that she can use it as a pillow. She snuggles into my chest and I pull a blanket over us. A few miles away, the first firework explodes in a concussive blast of sound. I angle our bodies so we can watch the show without getting up.

Snugging her closer to my chest, I run my fingers over her arm. “So, are you?”

She plays with my fingers. “Am I what?”

“On birth control.”

“Oh. Yes. I am.”

Silly, but I’m disappointed by that. The second she mentioned a pregnancy, the dream started growing in my chest.

That’s what I want, a family with Marnie, and I want it so badly it hurts.