Page 18 of Infatuated
“It shouldn’t be too bad. If you don’t like it after we start, we can turn around.”
She nods and looks out the window as we speed past vast fields. I glance over at her as she looks out the side window.
“I also wanted to come out this way to get you ice cream after. You mentioned it last night, so I thought it would be fun.” I flip between watching her and the road. She smiles wide and plays with the end of her pigtails.
My mind wanders to all sorts of dirty thoughts. I imagine grabbing her pigtails and pulling her head back. With her soft, lithe neck exposed to me, I could run my tongue along her fluttering pulse point, up to her ear, and nibble on it. She’d moan for me. I’d tell her not to move and run my fingers down her body, feeling every delicate curve.
Fuck. My dick is so hard now, I need to cool it. I shake the thoughts from my head. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid—almost a month. Kasey and I had phone sex, but I’ve been too busy with the guests at the ranch and practice that we hadn’t had time alone. I shouldn’t be thinking of Lana like this. She’s better than just spank bank material.
I clear my throat and concentrate on the road. We pull into the parking lot a few minutes later and start up the trail. I point out different birds and plants as we begin our climb. There are a few others on the path, but mostly it’s barren. I reach out and take her hand in mine, and when she doesn’t pull it back, I smile to myself.
“So, I noticed your tank top. It’s your high school, right?”
She nods and plays with her braid again.She really needs to stop doing that. There’s no one around; it would be so easy to push her off the trail and explore her with my tongue and teeth—to find all her pleasure points.Focus, Tristan.
“Yup. It’s a private school, and I have a uniform I have to wear. I’m going into my senior year.”
I groan inwardly.Naughty school girl.The pigtails, the plaid skirt, telling me she’s been naughty and needs to be spanked. I stick my knuckle between my teeth and bite down, then slide my hand down to the front of my shorts and try to hide the massive hard-on I’m rocking.
She glances down at my hand and blushes. I can see the color change even with my sunglasses on.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“Let me guess? Schoolgirl outfit?”
I chuckle and feel the heat rise on my own face. “Something like that. What school are you looking at next year?”
“Well, I told you I want to go into architecture. My dream school is Cornell or MIT. So, I’ll apply to both of those, and then I’ll look into some local schools just in case. I’ve worked my ass off to keep my grades up.
“I’ve also been tutoring students, and my dad knows someone on the board at Cornell, so I think I have a real shot at getting in. Not that I want my dad to pull strings, but if it helps, might as well.” She shrugs as she finishes.
I whistle. “Wow. Cornell. That’s a really good school, isn’t it?”
“It’s in the top twenty schools in all of America.”
She continues to tell me about why she likes it and how she got into architecture. When she was five, she was given a K’nex set and couldn’t stop. She would build bridges, structures, and even roller coasters. Finally, her mom saw how interested she was and bought her sketchbooks to draw her own designs. She branched out into interior design with the sketchbooks.
“What’s your favorite thing to design? I bet it’s a huge skyscraper, like in New York City, right?”
She smiles and then laughs to herself. “Actually, no. I love designing houses. I can create the blueprints for the space, but also help design the inside. I would love knowing a family picked my piece because they loved it so much and wanted the space to be theirs. It would make me happy knowing I’d made others happy.”
Not sure I expected that answer. She’s passionate. It’s kind of sexy. That and the damn school girl thought hasn’t left my mind.
We stop a few times for water and a snack. I sit on a rock and stretch my legs out in front of me, tilting my head back to let the sun warm my face. A branch snaps in the distance, and I focus on where the noise is coming from. She notices my intense focus and stiffens beside me.
“What was that?” she asks, scooting closer to me.
I stand, hoping for a better view through the trees. I gasp, and she grabs my hand, holding tight.
“Stand up, look.” I point in the direction I’m focused on. She lifts her sunglasses and follows the direction I’m pointing to. “See the moose calf with momma?”
She nods and pulls herself closer to me as she watches them eat leaves and bark from the close trees.
“Are they going to charge?”
I loosen my arm from her death grip and wrap them around her instead. When she presses her face against my chest, I kiss the top of her head. “No. As long as we don’t go close to them, they shouldn’t feel threatened.”
I then rattle off random facts I’ve learned about moose from my years of hiking with the guests. She seems interested, but until they finally move on, she stays tense in my arms. Not that I’m complaining. I like having her seek solace in my embrace.