Loading...Cook Forest State Park is miles away from anything Philly has to offer and Andrew could feel himself relaxing as the truck surged deeper into the forest. When was the last time he’d taken an actual vacation? He couldn’t remember, but he was bound and determined to make the best of the four-day weekend ahead. No phone calls at all hours of the day and night, no internet, no email, no contact with the outside world…just peace and much needed quiet.
The Cabin had been in his family for generations, and sat on more than one hundred acres of land nestled in the Black Mountains high above the Clarion River. Dusk wasn’t far off when he finally glimpsed the slanted roof of the two story abode and pulled along side the structure, cutting the engine.
He pulled out his bags, headed towards the cabin, across the back porch to an unassuming door, unlocked it, and swung it open. Andrew walked into the warm, spacious kitchen and flipped the light switch. The cabin had a rustic feel but was distinctly modern. Beyond the kitchen he stepped through a comfortable dining room, and then into a spacious sitting area with massive fire place and overstuffed suede furniture. He opened the front door and stepped out onto a huge deck that wrapped around half of the structure with sitting areas on both sides of the door. A path below the porch steps split; one led around towards the truck, the other, to a fire pit, a covered gazebo, and hot tub.
Back inside and up the round staircase to the top floor was two small bedrooms and a large, master bedroom with bathroom and fireplace. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and went back downstairs, grabbed a beer from the newly stocked fridge and sunk decisively on the couch, and, before he knew it, nodded off.
****
Andrew’s eyes shot open and he fought through his confusion and the darkness around him to make sense of what had just happened. The last few seconds replayed in his now conscious mind and he realized that noise from the kitchen had woken him; the back door was open. Someone was in the cabin. He lifted himself and peered over the back of the couch, but it was too dark to make out anything other than a figure moving about. Quietly he slipped off of the couch, walked through the small dining area until he was standing right at the kitchen. He reached his hand out and felt the wall, searching for the light switch. He didn’t have a weapon on him, but he was certain that coming face to face with the prowler would be enough to scare them off. The cabin had one break in a year, usually college kids looking for beer. He felt the switch and said a silent prayer. In the otherwise soundless night, the switch presented a loud “click” as he pushed it upward.
Glass crashed to the floor and shattered in thousands of tiny pieces as a blood-curdling scream filled the cabin and the person in the kitchen jumped backwards towards the door. To Andrew’s amazement, across from him stood a young woman. A very attractive young woman, who at the moment appeared afraid for her life.
“Oh my God!” she gasped, clutching her purse to her chest, “please don’t hurt me!”
“I won’t— I mean, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“What are you doing here?!” she demanded, “This is private property!”
“I know, I—”
“Get out, get out or I’m calling the cops!” She fumbled through her purse and came out with her cell, which she immediately dropped. It skidded across the floor stopping just in front of his feet.
“Good luck,” he said quietly, “cell phones usually don’t work up here.”
“This is private property!”
“Yes, I know, so what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What am I doing here? You’re in no position to ask me what I am doing here, you’re trespassing!”
“No, technically, you’re trespassing.”
“I have permission to be here.”
“Permission from whom?”
“The owners. The Lucas family, to be specific.”
Suddenly Andrew smiled and shook his head. “Wait a minute, don’t I know you?”
“I doubt that very seriously.”
“No, no, I’m pretty sure I know who you are. You’re Camille Boulanger, right?”
“How do you know my name?” she said looking even more alarmed than before.
“I’m Andrew Lucas, Amanda’s brother.”
Camille squinted at him and then looked as though she’d been struck hard by distant memories. “Oh my God,” she said slowly. “Andrew? Andrew Lucas?”
He chuckled, “Yes.”
“Jesus, it’s been what…fifteen years since I’ve seen you!”
“Twelve,” he said. “You and my sister were always inseparable.”
“You look so… different! I didn’t recognize you, I’m so sorry.”
“That’s alright. You haven’t changed one bit.” He picked up the phone and set it on the counter, opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small brush and dustpan, knelt at her feet and began sweeping up the glass.
“I’m so sorry about that, I must have knocked it off of the table.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, just stand right there, I don’t want any glass to cut through your sandals.”
When he’d finished sweeping he straitened and faced her. “What on Earth are you doing here?” She asked.
He crossed his arms and smiled wryly, “you must be forgetting this is the Lucas cabin, not the Boulanger cabin.”
“Amanda said that no one would be here,” she said in an apologetic tone.
“Well, usually that’s true, no one is here this time of year, but I thought the holiday weekend would be a good time for a mini vacation.”
They eyed each other, both uncertain of what to do next.
She nodded, “well, that’s just great. I made a three hour drive for absolutely no reason. So… then, I should go. I’m sorry to have barged in on you the way I did.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, “you don’t have to go, I’ll go. If Amanda said you can have the place for the weekend, you can have it.”
“Oh no, it’s your cabin, you stay.”
“But you obviously made plans, so you should stay. Besides, you really don’t want to drive out of here when it’s this dark; it’s not recommended anyway.”
“I’m a city girl, I can handle it. I’ve taken self defense and I know how to change my own tire. Plus, I carry mace.”
Andrew gave her a once over; perfectly manicured hands, designer sweat suit, expensive leather duffle bags and perfectly coifed hair and shook his head emphatically. “You may be able to take on a mugger in a dark alley, but the roads out here aren’t marked very well, and at night you can get turned around. It’s happened to plenty of people before, including me, and I’ve spent my whole life coming up here. Even I don’t like to make the drive when it’s dark. If you make a wrong turn and run out of gas, you’re screwed. Mace can’t help you when you’re in below freezing temperatures out in the middle of bum fucked Egypt.”
“Well, there are two of us and only one cabin, so what do you suggest, I sleep in my car?” “Of course not.”
“You sleep in the bed of your truck?”
“You’re funny. Look, there might be one cabin, but there are three bedrooms.” She looked skeptical and shifted her weight from one leg to the other and back again. “Just for tonight. I’ll go in the morning and you can finish your weekend.”
“I’ll go in the morning; I can’t kick you out of your own cabin.”
He sighed, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t we just agree that we both stay tonight- inside the cabin?” She thought about it, and then reluctantly nodded. “Have you been here before?” She shook her head. “Well then let me show you where your room is.” He bent to grab her duffle bags but she scooped them up quickly.
He smiled and stepped back. “Alright, come on then.”
Andrew led her upstairs, down the short hall and into the master bedroom. He grabbed his own duffle bag off of the floor as she stepped in.
“Wait a minute,” she said, looking at his bag, “you don’t have to move, I can just take another room.”
He shook his head, “this room is the most comfortable, I’ll move down the hall.” Before she could object further, he’d gone.
Camille sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, tired and frustrated. Andrew Lucas was absolutely the last person she expected to see here. She hadn’t seen much of him at all when she graduated and went to college, and though she and Amanda were still thick as thieves, she’d forgotten all about the shy, often pimple faced brother to her best friend of more than twenty years. If not for his eyes and his smile, she’d never have recognized him. The truth was, she didn’t want to see anybody, which was the point to coming to the cabin. She needed to get away…needed to be alone.
A few minutes later his muscular frame filled the doorway. “I’m sure you had a long drive. Hungry?”
She waived her hand, “I can throw something together, it’s alright.”
“Forget that. I planned to cook anyway, so I might as well cook for two.”
“No really, it’s okay, I can fix something for myself, I don’t want to put you out.”
“Either you’re really not in the mood for an actual meal or you think I can’t cook.”
She opened her mouth, shocked and then closed it again, unable to refute his idea.
“Aha! So you think I can’t cook? All the time you spent at my house growing up and you never noticed all the time I spent with my mother in the kitchen? Tisk, tisk.”
“Fried baloney sandwiches don’t qualify as a meal.”
“What?”
“Fried baloney. Don’t tell me you don’t remember, you used to make them all the time after school, which would completely stink up the house. No, no, none for me.”
“Okay, first of all I got over fried baloney a long time ago, and second of all, you actually remember that?”
“The rancid smell of fried pig’s butt? Yes, I remember.”
“You are absolutely the same smart ass that you were in high school. Well, don’t worry; I wouldn’t dare serve something like that to a guest. I have a bit more tact than that. So now that we’re clear that I know my way around a kitchen, are you going to let me cook for you, or are you going to stick to power bars, granola and vitamin water?”
“Okay, uncle, I get it. Yes, I am starving.”
“Good. I’ll go open the Spam right now, give it time to air out.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“I thought so,” he said with a mischievous smile. “If you need anything I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Umm, just one question; is it safe to sit in the hot tub at night?”
“Oh no,” he said with mocked concern, “the boogie man comes out at night, you don’t want to do that.”
Camille rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips. “That’s not funny.”
He shrugged, “sure it’s safe, though you may find yourself being watched by a raccoon or two, or ten, maybe a deer even.”
“Would it be alright if I took a soak? My back is killing me.”
He smiled again, “you don’t have to ask. Mi casa su casa, alright?”
She nodded, “alright.”
***
Forty-five minutes later, Camille sat in the hot tub, her head back and eyes closed. Andrew stood for a moment and watched her, then reached out and touched her shoulder. She jumped slightly lifted her head and blinked, and he smiled his signature smile.
“Dinner is ready”. He said, handing her a thick terry cloth robe, “I thought you might need this, it’s getting pretty chilly out here,” then he turned and walked back to the cabin. From within the living room he watched her through the window as she stood, wearing a barely there two piece and swaddled herself in the robe. Seconds later she came around the side of the cabin and stepped onto the deck. In the corner was a beautifully set table for two with candles all around, the moon bright in the sky above.
“Oh,” she said, surprised. He stood and pulled out her chair.
Camille stared for a moment, taking in the sight before her. Finally he turned in her direction, “are you okay? Did I forget something?”
She shook her head and cleared her throat, sitting in the open chair, “I just didn’t expect…this.”
Andrew shrugged as he spooned steamed vegetables onto his plate. “I hope you like salmon.”
“As a matter of fact I do.”
They sat, eating in silence for a while.
“So,” he finally said, setting down his fork and sipping his wine, “if I remember correctly, didn’t you go into architecture?” he asked.
She nodded, picking up her own glass, “what about you?”
“I’m a CPA.”
“And is that as boring as it sounds?”
“Sure. But it’s equally lucrative.”
“Ah yes, the money.” He smiled again. “I think I remember Amanda telling me you helped her pass trig.”
“And calculus, algebra and every other math class she had.”
“Guess she doesn’t have to worry about that at the gallery?”
“Nope. And she has a really good accountant; I made sure of that myself.”
Again they ate in silence.
“Whatever happened to Brad?” he finally asked.
“Who?” she asked, confused.
“Brad Roberts. I thought for sure you guys would have gotten married.”
“The quarterback?!” He nodded and she laughed, tossing her head back. “Oh no, absolutely not.”
“But you guys were high school sweethearts. It sure seemed like you were in love with him.”
“I was. At least I think I was. But, when you have a crush on someone else, you rarely marry your high school sweetheart. And, maybe the mere reality of having a crush on someone else means I couldn’t have been in love with him.”
“Who did you have a crush on?”
She laughed again, this time with a hint of nervousness. “You’ll make fun of me if I tell you.”
“I most certainly will not!”
“You will.”
“I won’t, I promise. Come on, you can tell me.”
She eyed him and then leaned on the table. “Alright. Michael Doyle.”
“Michael Doyle”?!
“You promised you wouldn’t make fun!”
“I’m not, I’m not!” He insisted, a strong smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes. “I’m not making fun. I just never imagined that the captain of the cheerleading squad had a crush on the captain of the drama club and co-captain of the debate team.”
“Why not? Too smart for me?”
“I wouldn’t dare suggest that. He was far from cool, as high school standards go.”
“Well, I thought he was plenty cool. Too cool for me.”
“You were homecoming queen. You were the most popular girl there.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, who was your high school sweetheart?”
He laughed, “Do you remember what I looked like in high school? There were no sweethearts for me.”
“Well… you had to have a crush on someone.”
“Everyone has a crush on someone in high school.”
So. Who was it? Anyone I would remember? Come on, out with it, I told you, now you have to tell me.”
“Alright,” he said, setting his fork down. “You.”
“Me what?”
“You were the girl I had a crush on in high school.” His bright grey eyes penetrated her. Camille sat up, her mouth open.
“Oh come on, you can’t be that shocked. It makes perfect sense. You were older, even if just by a year, hugely popular, drop dead gorgeous, nice, funny…plus I saw you in your underwear once when you spent the night at my house. That’s the inspiration for any high school boy’s wet dream.”
“Oh my god,” she gasped, “I remember that! I was in the bathroom, changing out of my cheer uniform.”
“I swear to God I didn’t know that when I opened the door,” he said raising his hands in surrender.
“I think I might have thrown something at you!”
“The soap. Complete with soap dish.”
She giggled, “Oh yes, I do remember that.”
“You left my young, virgin mind traumatized.”
“You were a virgin?!” she said in a hushed voice, leaning into the table once more.
“Again, did you see me in high school? That was my junior year, and yeah, I was still a virgin. I bet you weren’t though.”
“Hey, thanks a lot!”
“You know what I mean.”
“I was the high school tramp?”
“No, of course not. You just had a certain…air…appeal. I don’t know the right word. Then again, it could have been my overactive imagination making you something you weren’t. Seeing my sister’s friends in their underwear, their scant pj’s, their tiny two piece bathing suits, well, for a hormonal boy such as myself, it was a lot to deal with.”
She sat back, watching his face. “So how long did you have a crush on me?”
Since the seventh grade,” he said.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Most boys say something, or try and make a move. Why didn’t you?”
“Did you tell Michael Doyle how you felt about him?”
“Hell no!”
“Well there you have it. I wasn’t about to tell you either. I was content to sit back and watch from afar. It gave me a chance to learn about you.”
“Oh?” she said surprised. “What kinds of things did you learn?”
It was his turn to lean forward. “Well, let’s se,” he said with genuine thought, “I learned that blackberry pie is your favorite, because every time you came to a barbeque you passed on the apple pie and the chocolate cake and went for blackberry pie, two scoops of vanilla on the side, of course. Madonna was at least one of your favorite singers because damn near every time you drove up to the house it was blasting out of your car. And, I learned that purple was your favorite color, because when you and my sister went to tolo’s and proms together, your dress was always a shade of purple.”
“Wow,” she said, “you noticed all of that?”
He shrugged, “I guess I did.”
“I don’t think my own boyfriend noticed details like that.”
“Yeah well, then he was an idiot.”
Camille giggled and sipped her wine again. “So when did you forget about me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, your crush had to end at some point, right?”
“What about you? When did you get over Michael Doyle?”
“I’m not sure I ever did.”
“Well then, there you have it. Maybe I never got over you either.”
She put her glass down. “You can’t be serious.”
“No? Why not?”
“At some point in time someone else had to come along and strike your fancy.”
“Oh sure. I didn’t remain a virgin forever, thank God. But there is something about your first crush. It never completely goes away, don’t you think?”
She nodded, “that sounds about right.”
Again the silence enveloped them as they watched the reflection of the moon on the lake below, each consumed by their own thoughts. For the next four hours, conversation ebbed and flowed with little effort; each at complete ease with the other, the familiarity palpable.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you married?”
“No one has asked me.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“I can’t believe no one has ever asked you to marry them.”
“Well, besides Chuckie Easter in the fourth grade, no, no one has ever asked me.”
“What did you say? To Chuckie Easter?”
“I said yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was really nice to me. And he used to tell me how smart I was. We could talk for hours and never get sick of each other.”
“Poor Chuckie. He’s seriously missing out on a good woman.”
“The sad thing is, if he’s anything like the way he was back then, I’d still marry him. What about you? Haven’t you at least come close?”
“No. I have a pretty strict criteria.”
“And that is?”
“She has to give me butterflies.”
“What?”
“You know, butterflies in my stomach. There has only ever been one girl in my life that I ever felt butterflies in my stomach over. I always thought that if I could find a woman that made me feel that, I’d know she’s the one.”
“And where is she now, that girl?”
“Oddly enough, sitting across from me, finishing her dinner.” Andrew smiled as Camille’s cheeks flushed rosey red, and silence fell over them.
Finally Andrew stood, picking up their plates. “It’s getting late, and I’m going to head out early tomorrow. You’ll probably be asleep when I leave, so…it was good to see you. This was…nice.”
“You too, thank you for dinner, it was wonderful.”
He nodded and walked inside. After a few minutes she went into the cabin, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen.
“I was thinking,” she said as his head snapped up in surprise. “I was thinking that, you know…there’s no reason why we can’t both stay here. I mean, I know, you, you know me. This cabin is more than big enough for the both of us; between us we have more than enough food and supplies for the next four days. Besides…I would feel horrible kicking you out. Don’t go on my account, that’s all I’m saying.”
He wiped his hands on a towel and crossed his arms. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I don’t want to ruin your weekend.”
“Then stay, please. You won’t be ruining anything.”
“Alright, I’ll stay.”
“Great!” She broke into a smile so familiar it felt like he’d seen it just the day before. She grabbed more dishes from the table and returned to the kitchen. As he took them from her, their fingers brushed together and Camille distinctly felt the foreign sensation of a butterfly, hatching from its cocoon in the pit of her stomach, fluttering its wings for the first time.
“I’m tired,” she said and stepped back, “I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Cool,” he said, “I got this. Sleep well.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
***
For the second time in less than twenty four hours Andrew was awakened from a sound sleep by unfamiliar noises in the night. He lay on his back, his heart beating fast as he cleared the sleep from the corners of his mind. He had been dreaming. He’d been dreaming of Camille, one like the dreams from their high school days. His hand had managed to find his cock, stiff and warm. He blinked in the darkness, thinking of how she looked, how her skin felt, the way her dark, curly hair fell across her face, the way she moaned and gasped his name-
“Andrew!” He bolted upright. “Andrew, are you awake?”
“Uh, yeah, what’s going on?” he whispered back.
“There’s something downstairs. I can hear something down there!”
“Inside?”
“I don’t know!”
“Alright,” he said, getting out of bed. He crossed the room in the dark and she came into focus as he neared the doorway. She looked panicked, standing in a silk nightgown.
He stepped past her into the hallway and started slowly down the stairs, Camille nearly glued to his back, her hand on his bare shoulder.
The stairs creaked beneath their naked feet. He stopped at the bottom and listened; he wasn’t sure what it was, but something was outside the kitchen door.
“Do you hear that?” She whispered.
“Mmmhmm.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
He moved into the kitchen and she followed. He recognized the sound of the doorknob jiggling and froze.
“Two break-ins in one day.” He said.
“This isn’t funny!” she hissed.
Suddenly the garbage cans toppled over outside the door with a loud ‘crash’, and Camille jumped.
“Alright,” he said and walked to the door, pushing the curtain back from the window. There, on the other side standing in the shadows were half a dozen raccoons. “Little bastards.” She peaked over his shoulder. “They’ve been trying to figure out those animal proof garbage cans for the longest time. They’re smart, but we’re smarter.” He turned to her, “we’re safe for now.”
She smiled nervously, shivering in the cold air. “I bet you think I overreacted just a tad bit there.”
“Nope. Strange place, strange noises, makes sense to me. But now I think you should get back upstairs because you look like you’re freezing.”
She nodded and turned, walking up the stairs quickly. To her surprise he followed her into her room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to put a fire in this fireplace so you’re not so cold. The fire downstairs went out hours ago and it’s only going to get colder.”
She sat in the bed, her knees to her chest, the blanket pulled up and watched as he took wood from the corner of the room and stacked it expertly in place. “I’ll make it just the right size to get you through till morning.” He took a box of matches from the mantle and struck one, tossing it onto the small woodpile and watched as the smoke grew to a steady flame. “There, that should do it.” He walked to the door and turned to her, “let me know if you hear anything else.”
She blushed, smiling. “Good night Andrew.”
***
The next morning Camille awoke to the sound of an axe splitting wood at a steady pace. She got out of bed, pulling on the same terry cloth robe Andrew had given her the night before and looked out her window. He was behind the cabin and she watched as he went through the pile of wood, cutting each piece down to size. She could see the muscles in his arms, his back and his shoulders as he swung the axe with as much ease as a ball player swings a bat. She lay across the bed and closed her eyes, listening to the sound and thinking about…Andrew. His tall, muscular frame, thick, dark curly hair and a smile that simply devastated her senses…Amanda’s little brother.
The axe stopped. The kitchen door opened, closed, and he was on the stairs. Each step he took quickened her heart. She knew he was right at her door, that he could see her lying there, that he was watching her, not knowing that she was thinking of nothing but him. He tapped on the door, “you alright?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“I have some more wood for you, can I come in?”
“Mmmhmmm.” She finally opened her eyes and rolled over, watching as he stacked the corner of her room full of freshly cut pine.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, dusting off his hands.
“Probably.”
“Well there’s breakfast downstairs when you want it.”
“How long have you been up?”
He shrugged, “a few hours.”
“A few hours? What time is it?”
“Let’s see, it’s nine-thirty.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I haven’t slept this late in…forever.”
“I know what you mean. This place can have that affect on you. Well, I’m done here. I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He smiled…damn that smile. “You’re welcome.”
***
Twenty minutes later she walked into the kitchen.
“Well hello,” he said looking up from the newspaper, “coffee?”
“Umm… juice?”
“Orange?”
“Dear god yes.”
He laughed as she smiled, “coming right up. Do you want a light breakfast or a heavy breakfast.”
“I can get it, I don’t want to put you out.”
“My home training suggests otherwise. We’re both staying here, but it’s my cabin; that makes you my guest, so, heavy or light?”
“Light.”
He handed her a glass of fresh orange juice and she wandered onto the front deck as he prepared her plate. She was astonished by the quiet, it came from every direction. She sat in a comfortable chair watching the river in the distance, and then noticed that the candles, table and chairs they’d sat in the night before were gone. Just then Andrew was next to her, handing her a plate with fresh fruit, a small cup of oatmeal and a piece of toast.
“Thank you.” She said grabbing a piece of melon and popping it in her mouth. He disappeared back into the cabin and she ate alone, watching the birds as they hopped about, curious of her presence. When she had finished, she tossed bread crumbs to her newfound winged friends and went back inside. Andrew was on the couch, still reading the paper, and she passed him and went into the kitchen.
She emerged, stretching and said “so what are you going to do today?”
He looked up from the paper. “Do you feel like a walk before lunch, I have a basket packed? If not I won’t be offended, just wanted to offer”
“I don’t know…”
“If you’d rather just hang out by yourself that’s cool.”
“I just…I don’t want to interfere with your time. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good host, a great host, and I’d love to go on a hike…we’ve kind of been thrown together unexpectedly.”
“Then we might as well make the best of it, don’t you think?”
She smiled, feeling her face warm. “Alright, a walk it is,” she said and went back upstairs to shower.
***
A few hours later they set out along a secluded path to a rocky overhang about three miles from the cabin. The river looked farther away, but at the same time even bigger. They sat on the immense outcropping and ate lunch, then lay on the cool stone, looking at the river, talking about much of nothing at all as the sun crept across the sky; hours had passed as mere seconds would, and the sun was beginning its descent. They had been on the path back to the cabin for about 30 minutes when the first enormous rain drops fell.
“We better move, that’s going to turn into a downpour in a few minutes.” He took her hand in his and they dashed as quickly as they could along the path. In the near distance thunder rumbled and the raindrops intensified, until they could barely see in front of their faces, and it was more than ten minutes later when they finally burst from the trees and onto the clear land around the cabin. Camille could do nothing but laugh. They were both drenched, their clothes hanging against their bodies. They ran onto the front porch and Andrew fumbled with the key, unable to open the door. She had never seen rain as powerful as this, and it chilled her to the bone.
“I think my fingers are frozen,” he yelled over the rain pounding all around them. After a few more seconds he gave up, grabbed her hand and ran off of the porch, down the path and around the cabin to the hot tub.
He jerked off his coat, and struggled to get his soaked sweater over his head. “What are you doing?” she yelled over the roaring thunder.
“Getting in!” He flung his t-shirt aside and peeled his jeans off, standing in nothing but his boxers before jumping down into the steaming tub. He looked up at her, “this is where you take your clothes off and get in! You’re going to freeze!”
“I’m already freezing!”
“Well then what the hell are you waiting for?”
“I’m just supposed to take off all of my clothes?”
Andrew turned his back to her. “There, now get in woman!”
With the privacy she needed, Camille kicked off her shoes and pulled of her jeans and jacket, standing in her lace panties and a pale pink tank top. She stepped down into the tub and sighed as the heat enveloped her.
“Okay, I’m in.”
Andrew turned back around and immediately splashed her, laughing nearly out of control at the shocked expression on her face, water dripping from her nose and chin. She splashed him back and they went to war until there was just as much water out of the hot tub as there was in it, and the rain and hot water became one and the same. Finally they collapsed across from each other, deep in the tub as the downpour eventually reduced to a shower.
“I’m not sure this was the best idea.”
“Why?”
“Well, because when we get out of here the air is going to be freezing.”
Camille literally shuddered at the thought and looked at him expectedly.
“I’ll go”, he sighed.
***
About ten minutes later Andrew came back from the cabin in dry clothes. He held open her robe as she scoffed, “close your eyes mister, you’ve already seen me in my underwear, and that was enough.”
“Oh be quiet”, he said, but closed his eyes anyway. She stood and pulled the robe on, wrapping it tight. He opened his eyes and then held out her flip flops. “So your feet don’t get muddy,” he said. They walked to the cabin and she went inside and to the fireplace which he had wisely lit when he first came in.
“Well that was exciting,” she said rubbing her hands together.
“Yeah, well, we’re lucky we were already on our way back, could have been much worse.”
She nodded absentmindedly, enjoying the feel of the heat emanating from the fire.
Andrew stood at the stove, heating water for tea, and over so often would glance in her direction, watching her as she warmed herself. Within minutes the water rose to a boil and he carried two mugs into the living room and sat them on the coffee table, sinking into one end of the couch. Camille sat at the opposite end, tucking her legs beneath her, and rubbing her toes.
“They feel like little ice cubes,” she said.
Without a word Andrew bent towards her and took her ankle in his hand, pulling her leg from beneath her, his hands pressed over her toes, and his body heat penetrated her. She felt rigid and nervous; the touch of his hand was something that could not be anticipated. She held her mug between her hands, blowing softly at the steamed liquid, watching his hands move across her toes again and again, and then her ankle, and then her calf. His fingers were firm, strong, demanding…and yet soft, gentle and unassuming all at the same time.
He looked up and stopped when he saw her watching him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I think I just crossed the line.”
She shook her head, “it’s okay…it was okay.”
“Just okay?” he teased.
Her cheeks reddened. “It was great.”
His hands moved again over her foot, each toe, her ankle and her calf, then up to the back of her knee, his hand under her robe.
Camille sipped her tea some and set it back on the coffee table, her eyes glued to him.
“At the risk of ruining the moment, I’m going to say something.”
She leaned her head against the couch with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”
“This is very easy.”
“What is?”
“Being here…with you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Maybe it’s just me.”
She shook her head, “it’s not just you.” The words were soft and clear.
“No?”
She shook her head; her face flushed hot, heart pounding.
“Wow, well that’s not what I expected you to say.”
“What did you expect?”
“Oh, I don’t know…something more like ‘get the hell out’.
She laughed, shaking her head.
“Well then, how far do we take this new found ease?” His hand had inched ever so slowly up her leg, over her knee, and up the side of her thigh to her hip and he moved unassumingly closer to her. She stretched both of her legs across his and his hands continued their mesmerizing assault. “Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head shyly and watched as he opened her robe, revealing her smooth soft skin, caressing every inch with his fingers, and then his tongue.
‘I have a question,” she whispered.
“What would that be?”
“Did you ever…” She laughed nervously and shook her head. “Did you ever…fantasize…about me. In high school.”
“Of course!” he laughed.
“Really?”
“Hell yeah. You were hot in high school, and you know it. You’re still hot…hotter in fact. But I’m sure you already know that too.”
She sat up about, more aware than ever of his hands on her legs. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, what do you want to know? I was a healthy teenage boy. All I ever had to do was close my eyes, and you were right there.”
“And what did you see?”
He leaned closer, “I could see you. I could smell you…taste you.” She raised an eyebrow as he smiled knowingly.
“Did you have a specific scenario?”
“I had a few, as a matter of fact, but the one I liked the most…” he trailed off, in deep thought, slowly taking in a heavy breath.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing”. He lifted her legs off of his lap and stood up, holding his hand out to her. “I want to show you something, if that’s alright.”
She smiled and took his hand, “Of course.”
He walked her up the stairs and into her room. The sun had set and it was dark. She stood inside the doorway, and he was right behind her, his chest just barely touching her back.
“Did you ever notice the ceiling in this room?”
Camille looked up at the burgundy fabric that draped elegantly across the ceiling. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”
Andrew opened the closet door and she heard a distinct “click”. Suddenly the ceiling was moving- the fabric drawing to one side, revealing a new ceiling, one made almost entirely of glass. The sky was clear, and the stars seemed close enough to touch.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, “it is stunning.”
He put his arms around her. “When I would think about you, this is where we were…in this room, at night, with the stars over us.” Camille felt the shudder pass through her when their lips met, the passion instant. “I would close my eyes and imagine us here…you in my arms…it was the first fantasy that I ever really thought out…thinking about it now has the same effect as it did when we were in high school.”
“What effect is that?”
“My cock is so hard right now I don’t know what to do with myself,” they leaned into each other, laughing.
“Well, what did you do in high school?”
“I jacked off like a horny fool. I tried not to, like I actually wouldn’t, right? But I would try. I would lay in bed, or be in the bathroom, or in the shower, and I would think about you standing here, think about each piece of clothing as it left your body…think about what your skin felt like, what your breasts felt like to touch…kiss…suck…the sounds you would make when I would touch you.”
“How?”
He sighed, his hands moving up the sides of her body, over her arms, her neck and face, back down again, along her collar bone and over her piqued breasts. “My mouth touched every inch of this body. My hands, my fingers, I would put my fingers inside of you and make you cum…make love to you anyway I could.” He kissed her again, gripping the front of her robe. “You should tell me to stop now.”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I-I want to know what you feel like. I want to feel you touch me.”
“Camille…” he lost his train of thought as she untied the robe and slowly pulled it open.
“Touch me.”
He sighed, looking at her.
“Andrew,” she whispered, her body next to his, “please.”
He wrapped his arms around her naked body and kissed her passionately. He sunk to his knees, covering her flesh with his lips as she gasped, her body shivering. He stood again and they moved to the bed. He pulled off his t-shirt and pushed her robe to the floor. The collapsed to the bed and he truly, patiently, ravished her. Eventually he pushed down his sweatpants and boxers.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered in her ear.
As she pushed against his body, he thrust his cock high inside of her. He went slowly at first, but then faster, pulling it back and thrusting it harder each time. It was almost impossible to prevent himself from exploding inside of her, but she could not control the very same desire, and she kept gasping his name; he could feel her pussy tighten around his cock with each push.
She climaxed quickly, and laced her fingers through his, gripping his hands as tightly as she could, her pussy in spasms. He paused, allowing her to relax for a moment, and she kissed him slowly. They rolled to one side, with his cock still rock hard and buried deep, her leg draped high over his, his rhythm was slow but firm. After a few minutes, she pushed towards him and he fell to his back, and watched as she lowered her hips onto him, her hot cunt enveloping the long, hard shaft. She threw her head back and took in a sharp breath, adjusting to the sensations.
He ran his hands over her body, teasing her nipples with his fingers, and finally, she bent towards him and they kissed. When she pulled away and braced her hands on his chest, she had his full attention.
She bit her bottom lip shyly as he watched her move on his cock, her rhythm enchanting. His hand slipped down her front and massaged her clit, exciting them both and quickening her pace as she moved against him. He reached behind her, holding her ass and closed his eyes, listening to her gasps and whispers as they mingled with his own.
Her hips began to jerk up and down, her head tilted back. He watched her, the waves of pleasure visible on her face. She was getting off on him, and he loved it, loved the sight, the feel. His moans were louder now, the sensations she caused, stronger. She grabbed the sheets, riding hard. Part of him wanted to savor this longer, but the rest of him could not wait. She bounced on him, his cock driving deep into her each time, and then he sat up, threw his arms around her waist, and came hard as he clung to her. She climaxed with him, and now sunk against his broad chest, breathing deeply. She finally pulled herself from him, turned away, leaning over the side of the bed, leaving his cock at attention. He immediately cupped his hand around it and stroked it, coated by the wetness.
Though he could not see, he knew. He moved towards her round, butternut ass and let his cock press against it, looking for an eager opening. She was almost oblivious to him now, her legs were open and both hands were teasing her clit. He pushed his chest to her back, and she turned her head towards him as they shared a passionate kiss. He rubbed his cock against her hot pussy and thought he felt her push towards it. She turned, and again they kissed, and when their lips parted she said, “fuck me. Fuck me baby.” He kissed her, barely able to pull his lips away, but as he did, she turned again, her stomach against the bed, and he mounted her from behind, thrusting his dick into her soaked pussy. He stayed there, with one hand on the bed, and one hand gripping her hair, and no matter how loudly she yelled, he fucked her as hard and as long as he could. As she pushed her fingers around her clit, she found herself begging for him to fuck her harder, and somehow he did. When she peaked, he got off just at the sound of her cries. He kissed her again, with even more passion, and her pussy tightened in quick spasms, the feeling was like nothing else.
“Do you like that?” he whispered, his mouth still on hers. She moaned in response as her body began to rock softly. “Oh you do like it,” he whispered, and thrust his tight, hard cock deeper, as her body rocked faster, “you like it when I fuck you?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“You want me to do it again?”
“Yes…yes…yes…oh, mmmm, uh, uh,” listening to her nearly made him insane, his shaft moved faster, harder, and again, they both peaked again within minutes.
“I bet that pussy tastes good right now, doesn’t it?” He slid to fingers over her clit and brought them to her lips. She sucked them both and he slipped his tongue in, wanting to taste her tasting herself. “That pussy tastes good baby.”
He lowered his lips to her body, down her belly, causing her to moan again, and he dragged his fingers over the short, dark curly hair that covered her sex. She gasped again, and he tried hard to focus on taking his time, savoring this experience, worshiping her. He pushed her thighs farther apart as her body shook slightly- he looked up to her face and found her biting her bottom lip, watching his every move. He lowered his head, parted her swollen flesh with his fingers, and pressed his tongue into her. She cried out instantly, her back arched and she gripped the bed sheets. Slowly he rolled his tongue over her clit, and listened to the sounds of her gasps, felt her jerk beneath his touch.
He moved his tongue rapidly against her clit, then pressed himself closer still and sucked it in between his lips. He felt her hips begin to buck out of control, felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, and felt a surge of wetness on his tongue accompanied by a slow, long moan that parted her lips. He waited a moment, and then drove two fingers deep into her wetness and pressed his lips against her clit once more. Within minutes she orgasmed again, her body shaking out of control, and when the orgasm had subsided, he took her in his arms and held her close.
“Was that anything like you thought it would be?” she asked.
“I could have never imagined this, never,” he kissed her longingly, “you’re amazing.”
“Do you wonder why this is happening?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you wonder why we both ended up here, thrown together after all this time?”
“Sure.”
“And?” she said, looking up at him.
He touched her face and kissed her softly, “I wonder if you feel what I feel…”
“What is that?”
He smiled and kissed her again. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“What do you believe in then?”
“Fate. Yes, even men can believe in fate, I know it must come as a shock. Do you believe in fate?”
“Yes,” she said nervously, “very much.”
“And what about love at first sight? Has that ever happened to you?”
“I think it may have, yes,” she said swallowing hard, “what about you?”
“Absolutely, yes.”
“How do you know?”
He looked her in the eye. “Because when this weekend comes to an end, I’m not willing to go back to living my life without you in it. Now that I know you…I can’t go back to not knowing you, it’s not an option.”
“Andrew…”
“I hope you don’t think that was too forward of me.”
She kissed him in response, her arms around his neck, pulling him into her. She wrapped her legs around his, her thighs open to him, and their bodies again became one.
“Jesus Christ you feel good,” he gasped as her back arched. Her body went limp as the orgasm swept over her. They lay in silence, staring at the stars.
‘Camille?” he finally said, his fingers lazily stroking her hair.
“Yes?”
“Would you marry me?”
Her heart stopped and she jerked around to look at him, speechless.
“Before you say anything, just think about it. I am a good man, I have a good job. I don’t snore, I’m not in debt, I don’t have any unfavorable habits, I can cook and do laundry, I’m a hit at dinner parties, and I love weekend getaways. Our families know each other. I’m crazy about you, and I always have been. I would take good care of you Camille. I would spend the rest of my life loving you…being the man that you need…the man you deserve. Every second that I spend with you, I fall more and more in love. All I can think about is, how can I make you happy. How can I give you what you deserve? Besides, you give me butterflies in the pit of my stomach…just like before. I can’t explain it, I just know how I feel.”
She stared for an eternity before laying back down, her head against his chest. They stayed silent for hours, neither able to sleep. In the early morning, he felt her hand wrap around his, and she looked up to him, kissing his jaw. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll marry you.”