Page 69 of Silver Brewer

She yawns, and I pause. “Am I keeping you up?”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from, but I’ve been awake since four this morning. Frank makes us take the cheapest flights, and the early-bird six a.m. was the least expensive.”

“No worries. You get some rest. I’ll be there soon.”

She chuckles, and then the sound halts. “Wait? What? You mean Saturday, right? You’ll see me on Saturday?” Is that hope in her tone?

“Actually, I’ll be there in an hour.”

“An hour?” she shrieks. We’ve already been talking for one, and it’s only another hour to the lodge. “You don’t have to come here tonight. I have meetings and—”

“I’m already on my way, and I’m not turning around. If you want to wait to see me, I’ll just book a room when I get there.”

“You don’t need to get a separate room.” Her voice lowers.

“Are you sure? I can always—”

“We already shared a tent as strangers. I think we can handle a hotel room with two beds.” I’m a little crushed at the notion of separate beds, but I chuckle nonetheless at the mention of the tent.

“It was a little wild that first night, wasn’t it?” Who almost finger-fucks a woman he only met two days prior? One who got under my skin from the moment I saw her.

“It was.” She exhales, and I hear her shy smile through the phone. “I think of it often.”

Me, too. “Oh yeah, what do you think about?”

“Your hand guiding mine.” Her voice drops a little lower. “And you leading me to touch myself.”

My dick leaps to life, and I shift to adjust. “Cricket,” I groan.

“Then I imagine you touching me instead of my fingers. You were so close.” Her breath hitches. Here’s my spontaneous, unpredictable, always ready for me girl.

“Are you…are you touching yourself now?” The heel of my hand rubs down the zipper of my pants. I can’t take care of myself while I drive, and I don’t want to. It’s been eleven days of torture without her. I want my hands on her and hers on me.

“Not yet.” She sighs. “But I want to.”

“Don’t,” I snap, which thankfully draws another giggle from her.

“Why not?”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“You just told me an hour,” she teases.

“I’m breaking every speed limit.” I’m already going dangerously fast on these backroads, and I’m hoping I don’t miss the switchbacks I need to take as not everything is properly marked in these parts.

She chuckles. “Okay, I’ll hold out, but I’m wet, Giant. So wet.”

Fuck. “Cricket, two beds or not, we aren’t sleeping separately. We can talk all you’d like, all night long if you want, but you will not touch yourself without me present.”

Her laughter fills my chest, and my heart pumps with excitement. “There aren’t two beds here, honey. Only one, with me in it, waiting for you.”

“Damn, girl, I’m going as fast as I can.”

“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll say once you’re here.”

I groan through the phone. “Soon.”

And then we both laugh. It’s so good to laugh with her.