Exposed to You (One Night of Passion 2)

“What I’m thinking of might be illegal in a couple states,” he mused as he shaped her breast to his palm and the head of his cock batted against her hip, “but I’m pretty sure we’ll be okay here.”

“Oh, well as long as you have all the legalities worked out.”

His smile was the clincher. Joy didn’t hesitate to follow him when he tilted his chin toward shore. She’d seriously reconsidered the allures of outdoor loving, however, by the time they climbed out of the water and she’d followed Everett through the prickly, itchy tall grass on muddy feet. She shivered despite the heat of the day when the breeze struck her wet skin. It was uncomfortable enough almost to distract her attention away from the sight of Everett walking in front of her nude, sunlight and shadow flickering across his strong back and golden buttocks.

Almost.

They walked beneath the shade of the sycamore tree where she’d placed her clothes. She started when Everett abruptly slapped the side of his ass. She looked at him, stunned, when he turned around.

“Mosquito,” he said.

She snorted with laughter. “I thought you were trying to turn me on.”

“Did it work?” He slapped at his elbow this time. Joy shifted on her filthy feet uncomfortably.

“Well, not really. Everett, let’s go. This isn’t . . . sexy,” she mumbled, her avid gaze on his long, strong legs and cock belying her words. He didn’t look quite as full as he’d felt while they were in the water, but as always, he was a sight to see, whether erect or not. She’d rather cavort with him in a nice, clean, bugless bed, but she had to admit, there was something erotic about seeing him naked in the woods.

“No?” he asked, his narrowed gaze on her wet, pebbled skin. Her nipples were stiff—from the breeze, she’d thought, until something shifted in her awareness as she stared at Everett, and he at her.

“Well . . . maybe,” she whispered. She walked toward him, dropping her arms from where she’d wrapped them protectively around her breasts. She put her hands on his shoulders, and he put his arms around her waist. A shudder went through her when he brought her against him. Their skin slid together. He was wet and hard and warm. He felt wonderful.

“I don’t know . . . how we can manage . . . anything without getting . . . filthy,” she told him between kisses below his nipples and across his ribs.

He cradled her jaw in his hand and lifted her chin. “All the better.”

He covered her mouth with his. His mouth felt hot and liquid—a delicious contrast to her chilled body. His cock swelled against her belly, and her sex answered with a rush of warmth. She moaned and pressed harder against him, twisting her torso slightly, dragging her nipples against his ribs. He responded by becoming the clear aggressor in their

kiss, bowing her back against his forearm, leaning down over her and staking his claim with his agile tongue.

Perhaps sixty seconds had passed since she’d voiced her doubts about wilderness sex. Now she was arching against him, her skin prickly and feverish, her body softened, supple, eager to be possessed. He opened a hand over one of her buttocks, squeezing the flesh lightly, his fingers tracing the crack. Something about the size of his hand in comparison to her body, the teasing, playful way he touched her, caused another rush of liquid heat through her pussy. His cock lurched between them. He molded the flesh harder, shaping her to his palm. He swatted her.

She jumped in his arms and broke their kiss abruptly.

“Mosquito,” he murmured, his eyes sultry.

“Liar.”

“Okay. I’ve wanted to spank your ass ever since I first laid eyes on it; how’s that for the truth?” he asked, his mouth twitching. He continued to look at her as his hand lowered between her legs. Her breath caught when he dipped the tip of a finger into her slit. Again, she felt his cock move.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?” he murmured. He removed his hand and quickly brought it around to the front of her.

“Ohhh,” she muttered when he thrust his forefinger into her again. He watched her face while he slowly finger-fucked her. After a moment, the sound of him moving in wet flesh reached her ears. He grunted in satisfaction. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and she bit her lower lip.

“Do you always get this wet this fast?” he asked.

When it comes to you, yes, she thought. But she didn’t say that. She felt vulnerable enough standing naked in the forest while Everett finger-fucked her and studied every nuance of her face.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Now you’re the liar,” he said, all remnants of playfulness gone from his voice and manner. His expression looked grim as he paused and bent, sliding his left forearm under her right thigh. He lifted so that she stood only on one foot. He slid his arm through her draped leg until her calf was braced on his shoulder. She clutched at him for balance.

“I’ve got you,” he assured her, stabilizing her with his hand at the middle of her back. Now that she was spread with the back of her leg against his chest, her pussy was easy prey. He immediately sank a finger back into her, and then trailed the digit between her labia, stimulating her clit.

She moaned and quaked.

“You’re very wet here, too,” he said, playing with her clit in the juicy pocket between her outer lips. “Does that feel good?”

“God, yes,” she whispered.