Page 51 of You Found Me (The Meadow Springs #1)
Emmaline
Spencer won’t tell me where he’s taking me and even managed to get Colette and Mia to keep the whole thing a secret.
Colette said to pack layers, comfy clothes, and to be sure I had tennis shoes. Mia on the other hand said I shouldn’t take anything except lingerie, condoms, lube, and a couple sex toys.
And while I mostly listened to my more sane friend, I might’ve packed a few of Mia’s suggestions. Will I make use of them? Who knows. But I didn’t want to want something and not have it.
After we stopped at a small store to grab groceries we needed for the weekend, we made our way further into a mountain town in the middle of nowhere. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the cutest A-frame cabin and when I looked over to Spencer, he was smiling.
“Is this where we’re staying?” I asked excitedly.
“It is. It’s ours for the whole weekend. We have a late checkout Sunday, so we don’t have to rush out.”
“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute.”
“Wait until you see inside,” he says, while grabbing some bags.
When we get everything in the cabin, I’m able to take a better look around.
There’s a fire pit, Adirondack chairs, and a swing out front in the yard.
Out back there’s a pergola covered in fairy lights with gauzy curtains draped around it, and a nice seating area placed underneath, along with a hammock and a hot tub right off of the back porch.
In the living room, there’s a cozy looking L-shaped sectional that has one side facing a TV placed over a real wood-burning fireplace and the other facing floor to ceiling windows.
The kitchen is directly behind the couch with a rustic corner table in a breakfast nook and a small powder room tucked off to the side.
There’s a spiral staircase leading up to the loft with a massive rustic bed that faces the windows with stunning matching dark wood furniture.
We spend our first night on the couch eating and watching documentaries. We take turns picking what kind—first round I choose true crime, while he chooses one about World War II. Which is not normally something I’d be into since I don’t enjoy history.
Spencer points out that it’s good to know our history and learn from it or else we’ll be doomed to repeat it.
“That was very profound of you.”
He laughs. “It was something my high school history teacher tried to instill in us. I guess it stuck with me.”
And because he’s enjoying it so much, I start to enjoy it. Mostly from watching him be so enthralled and his little commentary, but still. I’m not bored.
We shower together, but more so to get it done and in bed faster.
I didn’t like the idea of doing anything in front of that massive window because what if there was a Peeping Tom out in the woods. Though he did assure me that the windows had a privacy film on them so no one would be able to see in, even at night.
Still, nothing happens once we get into bed, my anxiety refusing to release its hold on me. Instead, we do what we do best, talking about everything and nothing until my eyes feel heavy, and a warm arm pulls me close, finding peace in his comforting scent.
This morning, we wake up early and he asks if I want to go on a short hike before breakfast. Mentioning that there is something he wants to show me.
I’m absolutely not an outdoor person in the least—other than the occasional walks or jogs—I prefer my cozy couch to that of bugs and wet dirt.
But I know Spencer finds solace in his time in nature and truly loves the outdoors, which is why I don’t give him any grief as I lace up my hiking boots.
He packs a small backpack with water, a couple of protein bars, and my version of trail mix. I smile when I see the custom mix just for me, to which he simply winks. My heart can’t take all the little things he does for me.
It’s just all so new for me.
How he hears me say once in an offhand comment what my favorite flowers are and bringing them to me on random days, showing up to work with a fresh warm meal for me when all I had was a quick snack from the hospital vending machine.
All the small moments add up to my heart beating wildly in my chest, and most of them started before we were really dating.
The morning air is only slightly chilly as Spence and I walk in comfortable silence. I appreciate the silence more than he knows, allowing my brain to just be. Though he offers comfort or pulls me away if he notices my thoughts spiraling towards the dark, he doesn’t push or hover.
It is an incredible feeling to be so emotionally safe with someone for once in my life. I almost want to fill the silence, so he knows how much I appreciate it. As if reading my thoughts he gives me a tight squeeze and kisses the top of my head, carefully leading me deeper into the trail.
Ten minutes into our walk, I hear the telltale sound of rushing water crashing against rocks and look at Spencer with a big smile, as a curious laugh rumbles out of him.
“The Hill Falls waterfall is close by. I’ve hiked here in the late spring before, and it is the best place to come and jump into it after a long hike. But it’s too cold for that today.”
“Oh, so you’re scared of a little cold water?” I tease him.
“Shortstack, I’m not scared of anything.”
“Except chihuahuas,” I murmur under my breath.
The shock on his face causes me to throw my head back, letting out a belly laugh. He starts to reach for me but before he grabs me, I run, heading towards the sound of the water. Before I know it, I reach the riverbank tossing my shoes and socks off.
He comes toward me slowly, stopping by my discarded shoes. “You cannot really be about to wade into that freezing water in early December. Your teeth will be chattering the rest of the day. I can guarantee that.”
I know he’s right, but I’m feeling reckless.
“It’s just a little cold water. I never pegged you as a chicken, Daredevil.” I shrug, “Guess I was wrong about you.”
Rather than take the bait, he smirks. I’m not sure why until my foot touches the icy water, pulling a sharp gasp out of me.
“Not so brave now, huh?” he taunts.
Taking a deep breath, I pull off my sweatpants––careful not to get them wet––followed by my pullover and thin long sleeve shirt, tossing them one by one for him to catch. All I’m left wearing is a thin bralette and simple boy shorts.
Instead of checking me out, his eyes stay on mine. “You’re going to freeze in there.”
“Then help me stay warm, Spence.”
It’s almost comical how fast he gets down to his boxer briefs. Unlike him, I absolutely check him out. It never ceases to amaze me how gorgeously toned his body is, it is almost unfair to look at. In my perusal I can see the evidence of how he feels about my recklessness.
Unable to hide the grin on my face I take my time basking him in. The way his hips form the perfect V, studying the deep lines of his abs, the breadth of his collar bone, and finally that angular face which holds that wicked dimpled smile I’m starting to fall for.
When our eyes meet, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of my thighs as he picks me up. Keeping one hand firmly against my thigh while the other cradles the back of my neck as he moves to kiss me. This kiss is all consuming. I feel it in every part of my body.
Instantly moisture pools between my thighs and I get the ravenous need to grind against him—and I do just that. He groans, deepening the kiss and squeezing my ass while he walks further into the water. It’s not until he pulls away with a fuck that I realize how far he’s walked us.
Somehow it splashes up onto my thighs making me screech. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Now who’s the chicken?” he raises his voice a few octaves. “ It’s just a little cold water .”
“That was a terrible impression of me.” I attempt to splash him, but he has me in an iron grip. “I guess we can cut our losses. I’m sure you’re going to shrivel up at any moment in these conditions.” I huff.
That only makes him grip my ass harder, grinding into me. Forcing a gasp out of me. “Does that feel shriveled up to you?”
“God no and don’t you dare stop.” I pant as I move against him.
“If you keep doing that, you’re going to make me come in my underwear.”
I whisper in his ear, “Would that really be so bad? I never had this experience in my teen years. Wouldn’t you like to be my first?”
“Fucking hell, Emmy. You’re driving me crazy. I’d love nothing more than to be your first. I’ll take however many of your firsts that you’ll let me have.”
Hearing him say that causes me to whimper. There are quite a few firsts I still have to experience, and I desperately want to give them all to him. But right now, in the heat of the moment, isn’t the time to bring up all of those things.
We are going slow; I need to go slow .
I kiss him, silencing my racing thoughts as I rub against him while he walks us back to the bank. Still being held firmly against his chest, he finds a dry spot and sits us down under a tree. The canopy provides little shade from the late morning sun.
Confusion must show on my face, because he starts to explain, “This way we can do this right. I wouldn’t want your first time to be anything other than satisfactory.”
Spencer starts rocking my hips back and forth while pulling me against the bulge in his boxers. As he brings his mouth back to mine, kissing me, taunting me with his tongue. The pressure against my clit, and the hunger from his lips is incredible .
He releases my lips, moving down to my neck, gently placing kisses and nibbling as he goes, careful not to leave a visible mark.
The lower his kisses go, the faster I start grinding.
He’s driving me insane and we’re not even skin to skin.
But between the nibbling and the grip on my butt that’s hard enough to bruise, I’m close to the brink of orgasm.