Page 17 of One Hot Summer

“Can you blame me?” He shook his head, then smiled, the tension draining from his shoulders.

We rode on, slower this time, letting the horses graze as we took in the scenery.

After a while, we found ourselves in a secluded part of the woods, the path narrowed by brush and overhanging branches.

I slid off my horse again and tied him to a nearby tree.

Adam did the same, though it took him three tries to get his boot out of the stirrup.

I caught him as he nearly toppled over, steadying him with a hand on his waist.

“Thanks,” he breathed, face inches from mine.

We stood there, the only sounds the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves.

I reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his face, then cupped his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

He leaned in first, kissing me softly and slowly.

I pressed him back against a tree, hands roaming up under his shirt, fingers splaying over the planes of his stomach.

He gasped when I pinched his nipple, the sound echoing through the quiet.

I deepened the kiss, grinding my hips against his until I felt him harden through the denim.

“You want it here?” I asked, voice low.

He nodded, eyes dark. “Yeah. I really fucking do.”

I unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans down to his thighs. He kicked them off, standing there in nothing but a t-shirt and briefs. I stripped him bare, then knelt and kissed the tip of his cock, savoring the way he trembled.

He threaded his hands through my hair, holding me in place as I sucked him, slow at first, then harder, until he was shaking, breath ragged. “Griffin… fuck… I’m gonna…”

I pulled off, standing, and spun him so his hands braced against the tree.

He arched his back, offering himself up, and I nearly lost it right then.

I sucked on my fingers, wetting them and worked one inside him, then two, stretching him open as he moaned into the bark.

When he was ready, I lined up my cock and pushed in, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt.

He cried out, the sound feral, and shoved back against me, taking everything I had to give. I fucked him hard, one hand on his waist, the other gripping his shoulder. I leaned in and bit his neck, leaving a mark, then whispered in his ear.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” I said, pumping into him. “Anyone could walk by and see you right now. See how desperate you are for my cock. How you can’t get enough.” He whimpered, head thrown back, sweat running down his temples.

“You want them to see you? To see the two of us, taking pleasure from each other?” I teased, pounding harder.

He nodded jerkily, unable to speak. I reached around and stroked him, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. It didn’t take long. He came with a sob, thick ropes of milky cum spraying the tree and dripping down, his whole body shaking. I followed, hips jerking as I emptied inside him.

We slumped to the ground, limbs tangled, both of us panting and raw. After a minute, I helped him up, pulling him into a rough kiss. “You good?” I asked, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He grinned, dazed. “Yeah. More than good. Not sure my legs will work, but otherwise, I’m great.”

I laughed, then helped him dress, kissing every inch of exposed skin before covering it back up. When we got back to the horses, his mount gave him a look of pure equine judgment. “Don’t look at me like that, Pumpkin,” Adam said, trying to climb back on. He winced as his ass hit the saddle.

I smirked. “Need a cushion?” He flipped me off, but he was smiling, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

The next morning, Adam woke up before I did, which was an event right up there with the Second Coming.

I found him sitting at the breakfast table, hair still damp from a shower, staring out at the mountains and nursing a massive mug of coffee.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of battered running shorts and a burgundy NYU t-shirt.

He looked up as I walked in, face open and bright in a way that made my heart stutter. “You sleep okay?” he asked, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“Like the dead,” I said, moving behind him to kiss the top of his head. “You?”

He shrugged, then grinned. “I had dreams about being chased by a herd of wild horses, but other than that, yes.”

I laughed, grabbing a mug and filling it with black coffee. “Not too sore from yesterday?”

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t feel my ass at all, so I’m just pretending it doesn’t exist. Anyway, I thought we could do something lower impact today. Like maybe go tubing on the river?”

I paused, halfway to taking a sip, and looked at him over the rim. “You sure you don’t want to just lie here and recover? I wouldn’t mind staying in bed all day.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I want to see you in swimming trunks again. That’s a sight I’ll never get sick of.”

I set the mug down, faking outrage. “Why, Mr. Ramsey! Are you only using me for my body?”

“Not just your body, but I’ll admit, it is an awfully good perk.” He snorted, then quickly stood, trying to get beyond my reach.

I caught him by the wrist, spinning him back into me and pressing a slow, lazy kiss to his mouth. He melted instantly, winding his arms around my neck, his fingers threading through the short hair there. When I pulled back, he looked dazed and happy. It was arguably one of my favorite looks on him.

We rented tubes at a shack that looked like it had survived several hurricanes and possibly an arson attempt.

After signing yet another waiver, a worker loaded our gear into a van and drove a group of us several miles up the road where he let us out near a launch site.

We set off from the bank, the river slowly moving and refreshingly cool, combatting the unrelenting sun overhead.

The currents began carrying us, the group breaking off into its own little clusters until it was only the two of us as far as the eye could see. Adam let himself drift, face tipped to the sky and a pair of shades covering his eyes.

“This is the life,” he said, fingers dangling in the water on either side of his tube.

Water dripped down his smooth chest, trickling along the golden valleys between his abs before pooling in his belly button. I itched to grab him, to bend my mouth to his stomach and drink from that perfect little basin.

I ran a wet hand through my hair and rolled my eyes at myself.

What was with me lately? Ever since I’d met Adam, I’d been acting like a horny teenager instead of the mature thirty-nine-year-old I was.

I was energetic and playful, and I looked forward to seeing what each day would bring.

I’d laughed more in the last few days than in the last two years.

It was as if he’d cast some sort of spell over me, but whatever the case, I certainly wasn’t complaining.

We spent the next hour in total blissful seclusion, splashing water at each other, racing to see who could paddle faster.

At one point, I reached over, grabbed his tube, and tipped it up, dunking him into the river.

He surfaced sputtering, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes blazing with mock rage.

“You are so fucking dead,” he yelled, then lunged at me, pulling me off my float and into the cold current.

We wrestled in the shallows, limbs tangled, both of us gasping with laughter. He tried to pin me, but the river rocks were slippery, and he ended up skating over them and scrambling for purchase. I grabbed onto him, my arm like a steal beam around his waist, keeping him safe and secure.

We floated for a while after that, the gentle movements of the water lulling us into a state of peaceful bliss. At a bend in the river, where the water slowed and the trees leaned in close, Adam reached over, hooked his fingers around my biceps, and pulled me in for a kiss.

It started sweet—lips brushing, tongues gently seeking—but quickly got heated, hands fisting in my hair as he kissed me hard, biting my lower lip until I groaned.

He climbed off his tube and pulled me along behind him.

I had no idea what he had in mind, but I was willing to follow wherever he led me.

The tubes spun in lazy circles, bumping into each other as we dragged them along to the muddy bank, the cooler with our lunch securely tied to my tube with a rope.

Excitement flashed in his eyes as he looked at me over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my wrist and tugging me onto land.

I followed, shoes squelching in the mud, and watched as he led us behind a tangle of boulders, out of sight from the main channel. The ground was soft and mossy, dotted with wildflowers and shaded by a canopy of leaves.

He turned to face me, wet hair dripping, shorts clinging indecently to his thighs and outlining his beautiful cock. “I want you,” he whispered, voice low and unsteady. “Right here. Right now.”

I looked around but didn’t see anyone else.

I caught him by the hips, pulled him close, and kissed him again, harder this time.

He moaned into my mouth, arms going around my neck, legs winding around my waist. I found a flat rock, sat down, and pulled him onto my lap.

He ground against me, desperate and wild, rubbing his ass over the bulge in my shorts until I thought I’d lose my mind.

I slid a hand down the back of his shorts, fingers slipping between his cheeks to circle his hole. “I think someone might be addicted to exhibitionism,” I teased.

“That’s not the only thing I’ve become addicted to.” He gasped as I took his earlobe between my teeth and bit down gently.

Raising my fingers to his lips, I pressed gently, coaxing him to open for me. He obliged, taking the digits into his hot mouth and wetting them for me. My eyes rolled back in my head as he sucked them, making me wish it were my cock instead.