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One
Coconino National Forest, Northern Arizona, seven years ago
It was a brazen move, slipping Ben that note. If my brother had seen me, I would have been mortified. To this day, my little brother, Carter, thinks I’m pure as the driven snow, silly boy. But I couldn’t resist. Ben is just too freaking beautiful. Around six foot four, I’d estimate. Chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. A chiseled jaw and cheekbones to die for. Scrumptious, kissable, suckable, bitable lips. Add the fact that he’s got that sexy Aussie accent on top of it all? Good lord, he’s irresistible. And it’s not like I’ll ever see the boy again. I’m visiting my younger brother for the weekend at his college and Ben is his semester-abroad roommate who’s heading back to Oz in a couple weeks. And so, fuck it. I went after what I wanted. I slipped Ben a note as everyone was getting settled around the campfire and then watched him open the folded paper as everyone around me chatted and laughed and started singing songs while my clueless brother played his guitar and stared at his girlfriend’s boobs.
Feel free to come to my tent tonight after my brother and everyone else have gone to sleep. No-strings fun. Bring a condom. Kaylee
That’s what I wrote to Ben on that note and then slipped it into his palm before taking a seat across from him at the campfire. And ever since that little scrap of paper left my hand, my heart has been thumping.
I watched as Ben unfolded the note, my nipples hardening with excitement. And when he looked up from the paper and shot me a smoldering look across the flickering flames, my heart stopped. Ben’s look in that moment told me he’d not only come to my tent tonight, it told me he’d be coming to me with bells on. Or, rather, a big, throbbing Australian hard-on. It was in that moment I knew Ben was exactly what I’d imagined he was—a dude with a big dick he knows exactly how to use to maximum effect.
And now, I’m stuffed into my warm sleeping bag in my little pup tent, listening to the sounds of crickets and wind whispering and lizards and rabbits rustling in the surrounding bushes and trees. And every little sound, every movement of the fauna, makes goose bumps erupt on my toasty warm skin. Was that last sound Ben? What about that one? Or is he not coming at all? Did that smolder he shot me over the flickering flames mean he’s aroused by my sexual assertiveness . . . or repelled by it?
My breathing shallow and my heart pounding, I wait in my sleeping bag for Ben. I’m naked and touching myself. Wet. Ready. But just when I’m on the cusp of reaching orgasm, I hear a footfall outside my tent that makes me freeze. I grab my phone next to my sleeping bag and push a button to illuminate the screen, filling my small tent with dim light.
In the glow of my phone, I see a dark figure stick his head through my tent’s entrance.
“Kaylee?” a male voice whispers, almost inaudibly.
“Ben?” I reply.
“Yeah.”
“Come in,” I whisper.
Ben enters the tent and fills the small space with the scents of the campfire and weed. The scent of testosterone. Cold air is wafting off his sweatshirt and hair. He’s visibly shivering from the cold. “It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey,” he mutters.
Oh, that accent. “Well, it’s toasty warm in here,” I whisper. “You want to join me?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m naked,” I warn. “Do you want me to put something on?”
“Fuck no.”
Ben rips off his shirt like it’s on fire, revealing in the dim light the outline of a truly spectacular torso. Beautiful arms. An unexpected tattoo on his rib cage. His jeans come off. And then his briefs, revealing an unmistakable hard-on straining toward his delectable abs.
When Ben slides into my sleeping bag with me, I jerk and shudder at the iciness of his flesh against mine.
“Holy fuck-burgers,” I breathe, involuntarily lurching away from him. And we both laugh and then cover our mouths to keep from waking anyone.
I put my warm hands on his cold ones and rub them fervently, thawing them out, and slowly but surely my body heat transfers to him.
When we’re both warm, Ben nuzzles his nose against mine. “Thanks for the note,” he whispers. “I’d been trying to get your attention all night in all kinds of roundabout ways.”
“Well, you most definitely got it,” I say. “I just figured I’d speed things along, seeing as how we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks for grabbing the bull by the horns.”
“Or rather, the Aussie.”
He chuckles softly and, much to my sizzling delight, leans in for a kiss.
Ben’s soft lips are tentative at first. Gentle. Reverent. He’s kissing me like he’s not expecting anything from me but a simple kiss—like he’s assuming nothing more than that, despite our mutual nakedness. And I like it. I like the way he’s taking his time. The way he’s making me feel wooed and courted, despite the fact that his naked hard-on keeps brushing my thigh. And so, I let him set the pace. I let him lead, as he’s clearly so good at doing.
