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I look around and know we aren’t being watched but we aren’t alone.
I really shouldn’t kiss her right here.
Not that I give a single fuck about what anyone thinks… but I guess somewhere inside me I do.
For the sake of Mila and whatever her current set of circumstances really are at the moment.
That doesn’t mean for a second I’m going to back off. Not anymore. Not again.
The next logical move for me?
I grab her and pick her up.
I toss Mila over my shoulder, then turn and run to one set of steps that go off the deck.
She lets out a gasping yell but knows not to scream too loud.
Not unless she wants attention on her. On me. On us.
I charge down the fancy steps and I see a gazebo not too far away.
There are round bulbs emitting soft light hanging from the inside.
Mila laughs as I carry her.
Her right ass cheek is basically pressed against my face.
I’m moving with speed and purpose. And if you really want to know the entire thing, my cock is bouncing inside my jeans too. It’s actually uncomfortable. This annoying reminder of Mila… not that I need it since I’m fucking carrying her.
I take her to the gazebo and place her back on her feet.
She’s still got her beer. I still have mine.
“A little more private here,” I whisper.
“Apparently,” Mila says.
I’m studying her now.
I have no reason to be doing this.
It’s systematic torture for myself.
As though I’m waiting to feel her vibe… which I don’t need to do.
I can read her face. She can’t hide a fucking thing.
I step closer to her. She doesn’t move away from me.
My right hand touches the small of her back.
She doesn’t push my hand away this time.
Fucking games, honey… these fucking games…
I move my hand up her body. Slowly.
Up her back. I feel the clasp of her bra through her shirt.
