“We’re going on a picnic?”
“I’d like to.” I cleared my throat and gazed into the bag. I plucked out the banana. “I got the … portable fruit.”
I half-smiled and glanced at her. She frowned, her expression softening.
“Stop being cute,” she said.
“Can’t help it. Hey, thanks for picking this hot outfit…” I regarded my sweats.
“You’re infuriating.”
“So I hear.” I stepped toward Hannah. Makeup sex? She took a step back.
“I’m going to shower. Then we can … go on your picnic, I guess.”
She flitted away and I stared after her. God, if her shirt would just ride up a little higher.…
*
We drove out to Betasso Preserve, where I knew we’d have some privacy. I took the Jeep. In spite of Hannah’s aloof mood, I found myself smiling as we hit the trail.
“I haven’t been here in a long time,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
She remained silent.
I reached for her hand and admired her as we hiked. She wore loose, khaki-colored pants that hid the curves of her legs and a tight black tank top that hid nothing. A pink sports bra peeked out from under the tank, clinging to her ample chest.
I am horny as fuck today, I mused as we walked. Did sleeping without Hannah affect me, or was I always this bad? Impossible to tell. The harder I tried to pry my eyes off her, the more lascivious my stares became.
Finally, I tore my gaze free and glared at the horizon. It really was beautiful—the hills dotted with pines, the sky a flawless faded blue. No one in sight. Dry grass, hot wind … a harsh beauty particular to Colorado, which I had come to love.
Mm, and Hannah’s breasts …
I longed to peel that sports bra off them, to free her copious, luscious flesh. Hold her ass while I sucked her nipples. See her cunt, her legs spread— Fuck! I jerked my stare away from Hannah … again.
“Are you … okay?” she said.
“Of course.” I looked steadfastly at the trail. “Enjoying nature.”
“You sure? ’Cause you look like you want to murder nature.”
“I can’t focus. It’s this pace. I’m used to running on these trails.”
Briefly, I envisioned myself and Hannah jogging. Hannah jogging. Hannah’s tits— Good fucking God!
“We’re dawdling,” I snapped. “I’m hungry … starved.” I picked up the pace, hauling poor Hannah along at my side.
When we lost sight of the trailhead and picnic tables, I plowed off the path, up a hillside. There, in an arbitrary coppice of pines, I came to a halt. I glared around.
“Here,” I announced.
She spread our blanket and I set down the pack.
The shade felt heavenly. I stripped off my T-shirt and used it to wick the light sweat from my face and arms. After a beat, I looked at Hannah.
Damn.
I’d hoped to catch her staring at me, but she was focused on unpacking our lunch.
“I need sunscreen on my back,” I said quietly.
Without so much as glancing at me, she found the bottle and held it up. I smirked and took it. So, she wanted to play hardball …
“Thanks.” I sat on a corner of the blanket and worked off my Merrells and socks at a leisurely pace. I rolled my ankles. I reapplied a film of lotion to my arms, then the back of my neck, my sides around to my spine, down to the small of my back. I stretched forward and gave a soft, content moan as some bone in my back popped.
“I thought you were starved,” Hannah snapped, glaring into the pack.
“I am. My mouth is watering, in fact…” My gaze lingered on her body. I grinned and waggled the sunscreen bottle. “Safety first, though.”
I lay on my back and stretched out one leg. As I slathered sunscreen on my chest, I watched Hannah out of the corner of my eye. Ha, she looked tense … as tense as I’d probably looked on the trail, trying to keep my eyes off her.