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“Just making me horny when you do that.”
“And I’m just trying to get comfortable with that big log up my ass crack.”
His lips brush my ear and I shiver from the feel of his mouth on my skin. “It’s not up your ass. Yet.”
“Oh gods,” I murmur, leaning back and letting him press his lips to my neck.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says, gently kissing his way up my neck. “I can’t stop thinking about your sassy mouth. That tongue.”
I bite back a whimper as his hands sneak under the blanket and caress the bare skin of my stomach.
“Let’s go back to the trailer. Let me fuck you.”
“No. No way,” I say and then grind back against him. If I get in close quarters with him, I’m sure I will stick that big dick of his right up my hole. I know I will. I’ve been thinking about it for days. For months, really.
Gods, I wanna give in. I’m so damn tired of fighting it.
His hand reaches down and cups my cock, and I exhale sharply just as the wind picks up, rustling a few leaves across the porch.
“A storm is coming,” Bennet says as he massages my cock slowly. “Should probably move inside.”
My eyes swivel up to the darkening clouds and I try and think rationally. Because I know what a storm in Kansas means. This isn’t like in California where it may sprinkle on occasion. Storms in Kansas mean tornados.
“Why is it so windy?” I ask, trying to keep my eyes from crossing. He’s massaging my cock like a pro, and I can’t fucking think.
“It’s not windy. It’s just a light breeze,” he says as he continues to tease me. And for a moment, I get lost in it, in the feel of him touching me and kissing my neck.
Suddenly, a flower pot is knocked over, rolling down the porch and onto the ground.
“Bennet,” I hiss, grabbing his hand.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“A pot was just blown over. It’s windy. Like tornado windy.”
“Have you ever been around a tornado?” he asks, and I look over my shoulder at him and purse my lips.
“No, but I have watched a lot of documentaries. I know things.”
Bennet smirks at me and then sighs, his eyes drifting to the scenery.
“Yeah, it is a little windy, I suppose. Probably should keep an eye on it.”
I watch a tumbleweed roll past and then another, and I can’t take the suspense. I move off of his lap and nervously chew on my fingernail.
“And what do we keep an eye on? Like, what are the warning signs?”
He’s looking at me like I’m the crazy one. He doesn’t look worried at all as he shrugs his big shoulders, his bottom lip poked out like he’s trying to think. “Eh, I dunno. If the sky turns green, then we’re in trouble.”
“The sky turnsgreenout here?” Am I screeching? I think I am. But green? What the fuck? Why would it turn green? Skies are blue, goddammit. Blue. We learn that in preschool. “Like some kind of apocalypse?”
He laughs at me like this is funny, but we could blow away. Tornados pick up entire cars, houses even. I do not want to be blown away. Not like that, at least.
“Yeah, but look, it’s fine. It’s just a little strong wind. No big deal.”
“No big deal? Just a little wind?” My hand settles on my hip, and I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s what Fred and Mark said about the last tornado that blew through here.Nothing but a bit of strong wind. Like it was a fart or something. A tornado is notwind, Bennet. It is a natural disaster. That is like calling a tsunami a splash of water.”
“Meh, I mean, they’re not really comparable…” He’s still shrugging. “I mean, California has fires and earthquakes. You can handle that. You can handle wind.”
