Son of a Preacher Man - By Arianna Hart Page 0,2

course you had to follow him.”

“Of course.”

“You’re lucky some hunter wasn’t following him too. You could have ended up shot.”

“I was five. All I was thinking was, ‘look, pretty deer. Maybe I can touch him’.”

“And the deer led you here?”

“Yup. The clearing looked pretty much like it does now, except I weeded the area near the pool so it’s more open. I come here when I need to get away or just think. It’s my special place.” She swallowed back the nerves that tried to choke her. Even though she’d practiced what she wanted to say, she couldn’t get the words out, so she used her body instead.

Going up on tiptoe, she speared her fingers into his thick hair and brought his mouth to hers. In the next heartbeat, he clasped her to his chest, crushing her breasts against him. She ran her leg up the outside of his thigh, which pressed him closer to her. When he groaned, she felt it straight to her core.

The dappled sunlight painted his body as he stripped his shirt over his head. He pulled her to the mossy ground and rolled her on his chest. Before she could catch her breath from the intimacy of having him between her legs, he pulled the elastic out of her hair and let the cloud of it tumble down.

“God, just let me…touch you,” he whispered feverishly against her throat.

“Yes.” Her voice caught as wave after wave of sensation flooded her.

Her shirt and bra magically disappeared and they were skin to skin. An ache bloomed between her legs as sweat made their skin slick. Blood rushed through her veins and her only thought was more. He rolled her onto her side and ran kisses over her super-sensitive breasts. She dug her fingers into his back, trying to find an anchor in the chaos that overwhelmed her.

When his finger parted the curls between her legs, she felt the shock zing through her, followed by a tightening deep within. Her hands trembled as she tugged down his zipper. The length of him practically jumped out of his tightie-whities. She wanted to look closer, to see this part of him that was so different from her, but he groaned and wrapped her hand around the shaft. Sensations flew at her from all directions. The soft moss under her hip, the heat of the sun on her skin, the velvety texture of his cock covering a steely hardness. And most of all, his finger in her body, pumping into her, drawing every last ounce of pleasure out of each stroke.

Her breathing came faster. There was something there, something close, if she could only. Just. Reach. It. She heard him panting in her ear as she stroked him faster and faster, could taste the saltiness of his skin as she bit into his shoulder. Suddenly, her body flew apart. Her hips pulsed as her center spasmed around his finger. Just when she thought it was too much, J.T. let out a groan and wetness flooded her hand.

Nadya lay there, trying to catch her breath. Her shorts were pushed down to her knees, and she didn’t know what to do with the mess in her hand. J.T.’s sweat-slick skin stuck to hers, and she felt hot and confused and had no idea what to do next.

“Hold on, I’ll give you my shirt to clean up.” J.T. reached for his crumpled T-shirt.

The second he rolled over, she shimmied back into her shorts and lunged for her tank top.

“Wait, please. Don’t cover yourself up yet.”

Nadya felt embarrassed and awkward all at once. Now that the fire inside her had died down, she couldn’t look at him. This was not at all how she imagined the afternoon to be. All she wanted to do was get dressed and go home, but when he held his arms out to her, she melted against him.

“Why didn’t you…I was going to let you…” Even after what they’d shared, she couldn’t say the words.

“I know.”

“Then why? I don’t get it.” In health class they spent hours telling girls how to tell a guy no, they never discussed what to do when you wanted to say yes.

“In less than a month I’m shipping out. I don’t want anything tying me to this town. I respect you too much to make promises I have no intention of keeping. Once I step on that bus, I’m never coming back here.”

Even though she’d known how he felt—in fact felt the same way—the words still