Summer Fling: An Anthology by Vi Keeland
Wanna Snuggle?
Nevah
I PLANT MYfists on the vanity and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve been in here for seven minutes. I put the timer on as soon as I locked the door so I wouldn’t take too long because I’m one-hundred percent psyching myself up to unlock that door and face the hot guy who is either throwing out amazing lines or who really does seem to think fate is the reason our paths crossed today.
It’s hard to argue with the whole destiny thing, considering he’s right—we’ve been at the same events before. I remember seeing him and wondering what the heck a surfer was doing at a gala. I also remember thinking he was hot, and not at all my type.
Except now that I’ve gotten to know him, I think he actually might be my type. And not at all like the jerks I typically end up with.
In which case I want to look like I care, but not too much. I adjust the top of my sleep tank, rinse once more with mouthwash, debate whether or not I want to toss a coin to help me decide whether or not I’m going to make the first move, and then I remember I used all my coins in the vending machine.
I smooth my hair one last time before I open the bathroom door. “Bathroom’s all yours.”
Lawson is standing by the table organizing our 7-Eleven purchases. He glances my way and his gaze drops from my face to my feet and then slowly comes back up. “Yes, it is.” He gives his head a shake. “I mean, great. Thanks.”
Shit, this is awkward.
Once he’s in the bathroom, I head for the tent and get into bed so we can avoid more weirdness. I lie there for a while—it seems like an eternity—before the bathroom door creaks open, followed by the thwap-swoosh of Lawson’s flip-flops as he approaches the tent.
The room goes mostly dark, aside from the dim glow coming from the direction of the bathroom. The flap opens and Lawson ducks inside. For a moment I consider pretending I’m asleep, but decide that’s ridiculous. No one falls asleep that fast.
Lawson lies on his back and pulls the sheets all the way up to his chin. His arms go to his sides over the covers. “G’night,” he says to the tent ceiling.
“Uh, g’night?”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye—I’m also lying on my back, like a corpse. His eyes are closed. Maybe he doesn’t want to make the first move? Or he doesn’t want to assume I’m interested? I figured our discussion at the bar should be a fairly solid indicator that I am. I don’t think his eyes have been closed for more than thirty seconds and I swear a low level snore comes out of him.
I hold my breath, sure I must be hearing things. “Lawson?”
I get nothing.
I prop myself up on my arm, the air mattress dipping, and peer at his face. His hair is still pulled up in a topknot. There’s not much in the way of light filtering in, but I can clearly see that his eyes are closed. Another slightly louder snore escapes.
I poke him on the shoulder. “Hey.”
His eyes pop open and he grins.
“You jerk! I thought you’d seriously fallen asleep in less than a minute! By your account it’s supposed to be our fourth freaking date and you haven’t even kissed me goodnight!”
His eyes search my face and his smile softens. “We’ve kind of jumped a whole bunch of dating hurdles in one day. I didn’t want to make any assumptions. Plus, if you think I’m a shitty kisser, I’m going to have to sleep on that gross mattress with the polyester comforter.” He thumbs in the direction of the bed.
I nod slowly, considering that. “Hmm. I guess you better make it a good one then.”
He blows out a breath. “Okay. Game on, Nevah.” His expression turns serious as he cups my cheek in his warm hand and tugs, ever so gently, pulling me in closer. His full lips brush softly over mine. He tilts his head to the right, thumb sliding along the edge of my jaw. “With or without tongue?” he asks.
“Date four should definitely include tongue, and it should be long. My toes should curl and I’ll want to invite you up to my apartment.”
“Mmm. Want me to work up to that? Like dates two and three goodnight kisses first, or just dive right in?”
I smile as the end of his nose brushes against mine. “Hmm, I guess dates two and three are going to be a little different, aren’t they?”
He nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. Like date two is more of a lingering kiss.” He presses his lips to mine, firmer this time, then pulls my bottom lip between his. “And by the end of date three, the anticipation is pretty much killing me, knowing that kiss is coming, but not wanting the date to end.” This time he slants his mouth over mine and strokes inside on a low groan. I welcome the velvet caress of his tongue, that little steel ball firm against all the soft.
I sink into the kiss, warming from the inside as his fingers slide into my hair, thumb gliding back and forth along the edge of my jaw. When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing heavily.
“I like date three kisses.”
“Same.” His thumb sweeps across my bottom lip. “But date four kisses are even better.” He shifts and I lie back on the pillow. The air mattress dips when his elbow sinks in and tips me back in his direction. We both laugh and then I sigh when his lips sweep along my neck and he whispers, “So sexy,” in my ear before skimming my cheek.
The next kiss is explosive. Heat funnels through my veins and I grip his shoulders, hitching my leg over his hip. I want the weight of him over me. I want his hands and his mouth on my skin. We grope and kiss, making out in a way I haven’t done since I was a teenager and everything was new.
“What are date number five kisses like? I think I’m ready for some of those.” I run my hands down his back, grabbing his ass and pushing down as I roll my hips.
Lawson brushes my nipple through my sleep tank. “Date five kisses get a little friskier.”
“I’m on board with friskier.”
“We’re so on the same page right now, aren’t we? Kindred kissing souls is what we are.” I help Lawson pull my tank over my head. He cups one breast in his hand, thumb sweeping over my nipple as his tongue glides down my neck. When his lips close over my nipple, I arch and gasp at the feel of that hot steel ball circling my sensitive skin.
I want to know how that feels between my thighs.
“That’s probably a date number ten kind of thing. You wanna fast forward?”
I freeze and I’m sure my eyes are ridiculously wide. I can feel my face heating up. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Lawson grins and licks at my nipple. “Up to you whether you want to stay at kiss five level or skip over a few to get to the good stuff.”
“If that’s date number ten, what happens between six and nine?”
His grin widens.
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Oh my God, sixty-nine. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“You totally did.” His hand glides down my stomach and his fingers flirt at the waist of my shorts, the pinkie slipping under the waistband. He pauses, though, his expression earnest. “Up a level or stay where we are?”
I reach up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind his ear. I like the way he asks before he moves forward, never assuming. “I like you.”
He kisses the end of my nose. “I like you, too. That’s why we’re dating now.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and say, “Up a level,” then pull his mouth back to mine.
Fifteen minutes later, my shorts are lying on the tent floor and I find out just how awesome date ten activities are. That little steel ball circles my sensitive skin, his hot, wet tongue so soft in comparison. I roll my hips and grip his hair, riding the wave of orgasm bliss.
Lawson settles between my hips and I feel the thick shaft against me through his shorts. “What date are we at now?”
“Whatever one you want.” He kisses up the side of my neck.
“How about the one where I get to feel you inside me?”
He stills and pushes up on his forearms, eyes searching my face like maybe he’s trying to see inside me. “We have all weekend if you’d rather press pause.”
“Do you want to press pause?” Based on the way he keeps rolling his hips, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
His eyes fall closed for a second. “No, I don’t.”
“Me either.”
“Condoms aren’t in the tent. They’re in my wallet.” He rolls off the air mattress and lands on the floor with an oomph. “Be right back.”
He’s gone less than thirty seconds before he stumbles back into the tent. I help him out of his shorts and watch in fascination as he stretches the latex over the piercing and rolls it down his length. I can’t imagine how much it had to hurt to get that. I’m guessing the pros must outweigh the cons, though.
I run my hand over the sheets. “Should we pick a position?”
Lawson arches a brow. “Are you crazy? These are like date twenty-five through fifty positions. Let’s start with the basics and work our way up to contortionist, yeah? And I think I might need to do some serious stretches and yoga before I even attempt this one.” He points to the one by my right hip, then taps my knee. “Permission to ride this ride?”
“Permission granted,” I say with a chuckle and part my legs.
He settles between them, stretching out over me. Every time he rests a forearm on the air mattress we tip to the side. He reaches between us and strokes the head over my clit, easing lower. He pushes in slowly and I moan at the feeling of being filled.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, and I don’t remember the last time sex was this fun, or intense. Lawson moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust. With each stroke I feel that piercing sliding deliciously along that perfect spot inside me, pushing me higher, taking me to the precipice and tipping me right over the edge.
He follows right after and we lie there, a tangle of limbs, breathing heavily as we come down from the high.
Lawson eventually rolls to the side and sprawls out beside me. “So freaking glad we didn’t press pause.”
“So much same.” I lie there, basking in the glory of orgasm ecstasy.
“C’mere.” He slides his arm under me and pulls me closer.
I pull the sheets up and rest my head on his chest. “That was fun.”
“It really was.” He kisses my forehead and drags his fingers lightly up and down my arm. “Do you have your own room for the weekend?”
“I think Cosy reserved a yurt for me.” I prop my chin on his pec. “Do you want to yurt with me tomorrow night?”
“That sounds like a messed-up sex position.” He points to the one currently situated over his crotch. “This one, in fact.”
I grin. “So that’s a yes, then?”
“That’s absolutely a yes.”
Want to learn more about the Dude in Distress characters?
Check out The Shacking Up Series
