Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(12)

I sighed, glancing at my unappetizing mess, then back at her. “That good, huh?”

She nodded, moving her jaw around as she mashed it in her closed mouth.

I took a fortifying breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.” I plucked one torched lump off of my fork and tossed it whole into my mouth. I lifted my brows, enjoying the surprising flavor before swallowing. It was good in an odd way. “Not bad. Much better than burnt hot dog.”

Her easy laugh rang out. “There’s something about the burnt part that makes all that sickeningly sweet palatable. It’s the only way I’ll ever eat a marshmallow. Totally hate Peeps.” She scrunched her nose and pulled her head back, shaking it.

I snorted. “Got it. No Peeps in the Easter basket.”

Our camping had been intended as something fun and intimate, which it was. But I’d never expected all the little things I’d learn about her.

She leaned over to the cooler and flipped up the lid. “Want a beer?”

“Absolutely. Beer goes with everything. Even burnt marshmallow.”

She handed me two Fat Tires and a bottle opener.

I glanced beyond her at the grocery bag sitting next to the cooler. “What else you got there?” I popped the last ash-covered marshmallow into my mouth.

Crinkling followed as she leaned over, digging in the bag, then pulled out a package of Double Stuf Oreos.

I raised my arms out. “Of course. We’re hitting all the major junk food groups.”

She held up the sad excuse for hot dogs. “Protein.”

I pointed at her remaining marshmallow. “Fruit.”

Tilting her head, she stared at it. “It’s a root that grows in the ground. We’ll allow it.”

“Carb.” I nodded to the Oreos.

She snorted. “‘Carb’ is not a food group. We can call Oreos a grain.” She paused. “And veggie. We got it covered.”

I coughed. “Wait. What’s the veggie?”

“Your beer.”

I shook my head. “It’s made with hops, Maestro. That’s a grain.”

She scowled. “Close enough.”

After a minute of staring into the flames, she leaned far back. “Damn. That fire’s getting hot. It’s gonna melt the soles of my tennis shoes.”

It was getting hot. I leaned back too. Her sudden movement caught my eye, and I blinked as Hannah tugged her shirt over her head. “What are you doing?”

Turning my way, she stood, a wicked smile curving her lips as she took careful steps backward. “I’m getting undressed. What does it look like I’m doing?” She pulled the hair tie from her head, sending the ends of her hair down to just above her black-lace-covered breasts.

“Shit!” I jumped up from the log but stood there, unmoving, torn between stalking her down and putting out the blaze we’d created with plenty of firewood. Protective instincts won out (which I hoped to be thoroughly rewarded for), and I rushed over to the small folding shovel, then scooped dirt onto the fire.

“Be right there.” I glanced over my shoulder right as something lacy flew out of the tent opening. My nostrils flared as I imagined all the skin being bared in my absence. “Feel free to start without me.”

“Oh, I am…”

I shoveled faster, images of Hannah naked in the wilderness, pleasuring herself, motivating me. I didn’t know where the hell the water was, so I dumped the rest of my beer over it to completely douse the flames. At the last second, I grabbed the groceries, threw them into the cooler, and stowed it all into the Jeep.

Charging toward the tent entrance, I tore my shirt over my head, unbuckled my belt, and ripped open the button fly of my jeans. In the darkness, with only a partial moon lighting the night, I barely made out her shape lying on the sleeping bag.

Her legs were spread wide, her lustful gaze tracking me. Dark waves of hair tumbled down her shoulder, curled ends brushing above her peaked nipples.

Fuck.

I swallowed hard as I stepped into the tent, chest heaving as I watched her drag lazy fingers between her breasts.

Perfection.

Mine.

Hours. For what seemed like hours, I buried myself into everything Hannah offered me—her talented mouth, her welcoming body. And the more she gave, the more I wanted.

By the time she’d hit multiple orgasms and I’d had my first, we collapsed onto the sleeping bag, panting, covered in sweat. She exhaled, blowing out a hard breath from between pursed lips. “Wow.”

“Exactly.”

Nestling into my side, she draped a hand over my chest. “I love camping.”

“Best camping trip ever.”

A lazy silence followed as our breaths slowed. She threaded her fingers into mine, a perfect calmness surrounding us. “Do you ever wonder what they thought of us?”

Confused, I tipped my head toward her in the darkness. “Who?”

“Our exes.”

“Oh, no. No exes here tonight.”

“But I’m not really bringing them here. I’m actually talking about us. How to make us better. Like was there something we did, or didn’t do, to make the relationships crash?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

She pressed closer, resting her head on my shoulder. “A relationship isn’t one person; it’s a couple. The failure couldn’t have been all their fault.”