Page 8 of Sequoia Flames (Black Timber Peak Hotshots #6)

EIGHT

LASSITER

I can’t stop looking at the tent and wondering what she looks like when she’s asleep. Her blonde curls spread out on the sleeping bag and her soft curves barely covered by the blanket.

Did she take off her clothes or does she have them on right now? I can’t stop thinking about how pretty her full breasts looked in the t-shirt sticking to her pale skin.

I groan and close my eyes. My dick is so hard that it feels like it’s about to burst right out of my shorts. The obscene tent in my pants throbs and I curse softly.

What am I going to do about her?

Nothing, that’s what.

She doesn’t live here and I can’t leave.

The mountain air and the quiet healed me. I haven’t had any nightmares for at least a year. I can’t go back to living like I did before. It will kill me.

I glance back at the tent and stand, my steps automatically heading towards her without even thinking about what I’m doing.

I lift the flap of the tent and I can barely see her behind the netting in the dim light.

She’s curled up and my mouth dries out when I see her jeans set off to the side and neatly folded.

So she took her pants off.

I turn away, running my fingers through my hair. I cannot go in that tent because if I get near her I’m gonna lose my mind and take her. The way she flushes and the sassy way she glances at me from underneath her long lashes tells me that she wants me as much as I want her.

I pace around the perimeter, staring out into the dark and praying that I can keep away from her.

If I claim her like I need to claim her, I’m never gonna be able to let her go and she’s leaving. That would fucking destroy me. I can’t deal with that right now.

Soft whimpering whips my head around and I move closer to the tent, my eyes straining.

“No, no…” Fear strains her voice and I swear I can see her curled-up body rolling around in the sleeping bag.

“Fire… no!” Her body jerks in her sleep as I lift the tent flap and slip inside, trying to keep my distance from her.

“Firefly, hey, honey. It’s alright. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

But she keeps tossing and turning and her full lips pant out soft breaths quickly, like she’s running.

“Hey, Verity! Come on, wake up!” I move closer and gently touch her ankle, shaking it softly.

She jackknifes up and screams, her eyes wide and unseeing and I scramble over to her, yanking her into my arms.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up! You’re alright. I’m right here. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

She plasters herself to me, shaking violently. “Lassiter?”

“Yeah. I’m right here, honey. You’re alright.” I pet her hair and groan when she tries to move even closer to me until she’s sitting on my lap. My dick jumps and I fight to keep her from feeling how bad she’s torturing me.

Her hot breath puffs out on my neck and I close my eyes, swearing under my breath.

This has to be the worst form of torture.

Her full breasts press against my chest in my lightweight shirt.

I can feel her heart pounding against mine, matching me beat for beat.

I fight to breathe and struggle to keep a leash on the animal inside me that’s snarling at me to take her, claim her, keep her.

She takes a deep breath and then another one and I roll my eyes. She’s killing me. Each breath pushes her soft breasts into my hard chest and she fits against me so well that it feels like she was always meant to be mine.

Her head lifts and her deep blue eyes meet mine, something dark and wild hidden deep in their stormy depths. “Lassiter?” she breathes out, soft and husky.

“Yeah, Firefly?”

Her slim fingers dance across my cheek and I close my eyes, groaning silently. “I’m sorry that she hurt you.”

“I’m sorry that he hurt you too, Firefly. He’s an idiot to have left you.”

“She was an absolute idiot, too.” Her heart-shaped face lifts and she purses her lips, then runs the tip of her tongue around her mouth and sighs.

She lifts up and touches her lips gently to mine and all my good damn intentions fly right out the fucking window as soon as her soft mouth touches mine, her breath coasting across my lips.

“Verity!” I groan and wrap my fingers in her soft curls, tugging at her head and holding her steady as my mouth opens and I devour each little whimper and moan she makes.

We move closer and I strain to hold onto what little control I have left as I feel her soft pussy barely covered by her panties settle over my aching cock.

“Oh my god, Lassiter! Don’t stop, please don’t stop.

Touch me…”. Her throaty words rasp across my skin and a red haze coats my eyes as I lay her back, drinking in the sight of her pale skin in the dim light, her full breasts straining against her thin shirt.

My mouth goes dry and I lean down to run my tongue across the fabric, dragging at it and lapping at the tight tips of her nipples.

“Yes,” she hisses and her full hips thrust up, bumping into my hips and thighs. “Don’t stop.”

I should stop. I should. But I can’t. Instead my shaking hands pull at the fabric and lift it up over her head. Her hair flies around her in a golden cloud and I groan, wanting to bury my fingers in the silky strands and hold onto her tight.

Dipping my head, I run my tongue across the smooth, pale skin of her breast, holding the other one and clenching my fingers lightly, running my finger across the diamond-hard tip of her nipple.

Her hips push up again and her fingers bury themselves in my hair, tugging at it until I feel zapping electricity and zinging pain where she’s pulling.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous. So damn pretty.” I move down her body and her fingers twitch in my hair.

“What are you doing?” she squeaks.

“I need to taste you. Let me taste you, Firefly. You smell so good,” I groan and my nose runs along her spread thighs. She trembles and I glance up to find her watching me with dark, needy, hungry eyes.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to bury my tongue in your sweet pussy and drink down every drop of your juices. I know I don’t have to but I need it. Need you.”

Her hands settle on my head and she nods slightly when I glance up at her.

That’s all I need. I can smell her sweet, tangy scent on the warm night air and my mouth waters like a wild dog.

I run my tongue up her thigh and around her pussy lips. She twitches hard and then stills as my tongue pushes inside her soft lips. My thumb runs up and down her tiny hole and then grinds down on the little bundle of nerves at the top.

“Oh, my God,” she breathes, her lithe, curvy body strung so tight that it feels like a bow ready to spring free.

“Oh, Lassiter… my god.” Her voice breaks and then she screams and writhes under me.

Her pussy tightens and then flutters wildly, pulsing with her orgasm, her sweet juices flowing into my mouth as I drink down her nectar like a man dying of thirst in the desert, lapping at the tender little bundle of nerves until she flails and comes again, her body so taut that her back bends and strains, shaking with every pulse of her pussy.

I groan and bury my face in the sweetness of her thighs and forget everything but her and how she tastes on my tongue.

Wild and sweet and perfect.