Page 119 of Valley Girls
“Come closer,” Walker said widening his legs and dragging her tight to his chest. She tipped her chin, leaning against his shoulder.
The lights on El Cap—tiny white lights—looked like stars fallen from heaven to decorate the granite. And above them, the haze of the Milky Way stretched wide and clear.
His fingers softly stroked the skin of her calves, running up and down the lines pushed into her body by running and hiking and climbing. The night air was sweet and his fingers stirred a deep ache in her stomach. She pretended to watch the flickering pinpricks of headlamps on the massive shadow of granite under the moonlight, but all she saw was the haze of stars and the sweep of Walker’s fingers up her legs, to her knees ... to her thighs.
Her breath came fast, feeling the stillness in his body—the focus and attention. When she looked up at him, in the dark, his chin was tucked, watching the rise and fall of her chest in the sundress. The heart beating just under her skin.
They were in the meadow, but in the dead of night, the Valley had fallen silent. Tourists were tucked in their tents. In a room of rustling grass and the cool mountain wind, Rilla reached up and slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders.
His fingers stilled.
A shiver ran up her spine as the wind touched her skin, bringing the ache to the surface. She reached up and touched his lips; and in response, his fingers crushed the flesh of her thighs with desperation.
This was more than she could have ever dreamed for herself, back home. And here, she’d not only dreamed it into reality, she’d brought it to be so.Somehow.This gorgeous boy. The stars so clear and bright. With France ahead, and The Nose just within her grasp. Her body felt strong and capable. She slid a hand up her body, relishing in the hitch in Walker’s breath. She did it again. Teasing him with a body she possessed. A body that was hers.
He kissed her neck, hands moving from her thighs upward, dress clutched and caught in his grip. The cotton bunched around her waist, and his hands stilled at her hips.
She slid her feet closer to where she sat, letting her knees open wide in invitation.
When he didn’t immediately move his hands, she pressed back against him and slid her fingers between her legs.
Walker gave a low moan as he watched. His breath a rush of warmth on her skin, mixing with the cool breeze. The grass tickled her thighs. She owned this night. This body. This moment.
Tilting her chin up, she closed her eyes and sank into the ecstasy of both the moment and the journey. Her fingers moved under the edge of her underwear, trembling a little from the cold and desire and the idea that Walker was watching. Confidently, she touched herself—urged on by the hardness pressing in her lower back and the way Walker nearly whimpered before softly sinking his teeth in her shoulder.
“Can I?” His breath caught. “Touch you?”
The urge to deny him leapt in her throat; but she wasn’t ready to play that game. Maybe someday—but she was too hungry for the newness of his touch right now. Instead, she smiled dreamily and pulled his hand downward. His fingers were warm, and she shuddered at the way the hard grooves of his callused fingertips stroked her wet and exposed skin.
She moved her hands away, allowing him to take over. Desperate to touch him, she shifted over and reached behind her back.
He moved for her, pausing for a moment so she could unzip his pants and find his skin in a way that made him bite his lips tight to keep from crying out.
She smiled as he pulsed under her touch.
His fingers moved slowly at first. Teasing. Exploring. Responding when she reached down and gently adjusted his fingers. Pulling the strings of her need deep down along her spine until she was engulfed in her desire, panting and gasping and pushing her hips up in little shakes in an effort to get more. She tightened her grip on him, her arm awkward, feeling messy and raw, but not willing to lose hold of him and his pleasure at the same time as she chased hers. She arched her back, falling to pieces as he brought her to the edge and pushed her over. The stars exploded and showered her in effervescent sparks behind her eyes.
“Fuck. Keep going, please,” he whispered in her ear.
She leaned to the side, twisting between his legs to kiss his mouth as her hand moved. His hand closed over hers and, together, their shared breath roaring in her ears, she brought him with her.
His head fell back and the moonlight touched his lips.
Thirty Six
Rilla woke up on the couch. Walker was on the floor. They were still dressed.
She sat up and frowned, vaguely remembering him walking her home. By that time they’d been so tired they’d just fallen asleep. The memory of what had happened the night before hit her brain, and she grinned like a loon.
“Uh-oh,” Lauren said. “Jennings. Who let you sleep here?” She sat in the recliner and laced her boots.
He didn’t respond.
“We just got too tired ...” Rilla said, certain her body had her night written all over itself.
Lauren eyed them both and shook her head. “I’d get breakfast and avoid your sister if I were you. She and your mom got in a fight last night.”
Rilla made a face. “Oh. Thanks!”
