Jen

Casen has been gone for hours, but I can still feel the tingle on my lips from his kiss. I kiss guys all the time. Wait, that sounds slutty. I’ve kissed many guys in my adult life, and never have any of them made me feel the way Casen does. A single touch from him can make every ounce of my body vibrate with anticipation.

I had hoped he would let his resolve down for just another moment to allow us to explore the flirtation we had been dancing around for months. Instead of staying put and kissing me like I wish he would have, he walked away from me, panting and restraining himself.

Henri has been my companion in the camper. The lug is starting to grow on me. I’ve been tossing and turning, but when I hear the sound of a guitar outside I’m roused from the surprisingly soft bed. I don’t find it as comfortable as it should be without Casen in it with me. I never thought I would admit to wanting a man to stay the night with me in an emotional rather than sexual capacity. Yet, here I am, yearning for Casen in any way I can get him.

I wrap myself in the same fleece blanket from our campfire chat and follow the sound of Casen’s guitar. Quickly closing the door behind me as not to let Hendrix out, I sneak down the steps in a stealth-like manner, which would rival Mission Impossible. Now wearing a grey beanie to keep warm, Casen is sitting on the same log where we had shared our most guarded secrets hours earlier. His eyes are closed, lightly gripping onto his acoustic guitar. It’s the most beautiful sight; it’s like he is the music, the guitar is an extension of his body. This man was born to do this.

It takes a moment to decipher the song he’s playing. “Moonlight Sonata” is one of the most recognizable songs, but I’ve never heard it played on the guitar. I’ve always loved the song; its melancholy rhythm always spoke to me. It had seeped into my soul, like it was written just for me. This version, while different, is mesmerizing.

I don’t want him to notice me and stop playing, so I stand as still as possible at the bottom of the stairs and listen. Closing my eyes, I let the sound envelop me, losing myself in the melody. All time is lost until I hear Casen’s voice boom over the music and my eyes slide open.

“You should be sleeping,” he says, propping his guitar against the log.

“I couldn’t. I was lonely.” I move closer to him. “That was beautiful,” I add, pointing to his instrument.

“I needed to clear my head. Sorry I disturbed you.”

“No, not at all,” I cut him off. “I needed to hear that song tonight. I just wish you would have played it for me in there,” I say suggestively, nodding in the direction of the camper. My bravery momentarily shines through as I add the last line, realizing the words may be the biggest risk of my life. I’ve never been more afraid of rejection than I am right now standing in front of Casen.

He rubs his hands up and down his face and then takes his beanie off and runs his fingers through his soft, messy hair. “Please don’t tempt me, Jen,” he whispers, focusing his eyes on the beanie he’s now weaving through his fingers. “It’s taking every bit of willpower I have not to carry you into that camper and do all the things I hoped of doing since I had my first taste of you.”

I close the distance between us and take his chin in my hand, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “I know you think being with me right now would put you in the same category as every other guy who has hurt me, used me.” I take his hand in mine, lacing our finger together. “You need to understand, though, you’re not taking anything I don’t want to give you.”

Casen delicately kisses the back of my hand and then rests my hand against his cheek. “If we take this step, there’s no going back for me. I want something real, something that is just me and you. Is that something you can give me?”

“I admit I’ve never had that before. Honestly, I had never met a man I wanted for longer than a night. You’re different, Casen. With you, I wouldn’t want anything less than everything.”

I drop my hand from his and wrap the oversized blanket around both of us. All reservations he has fade from his face, and a smile, which clenches my heart, replaces the apprehension. As soon as I smile back, Casen stands and lifts me in the air to carry me back to the camper. There are no more words, just his lips on mine. I wrap my legs around his strong core and hold on to this gorgeous man.

He moves quickly as if he’s afraid if he takes too much time one of us might change our mind. As soon as we’re inside the camper and in the bedroom, we break apart only long enough to chase Henri out of the room. Casen sprawls me out on top of the fluffy duvet, taking a second to stare down at me. Only in a Broncos T-shirt and panties, I would think I would feel self-conscience about Casen perusing my body with his eyes like this, but I don’t. I feel beautiful. No more hiding, no more avoiding my past. I thought he would run when he found out, but he knows my secret and still wants me.

Casen slides out of his shoes and crawls up the bed, eventually caging me in with his solid arms. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs as he hovers over me.

I reach up, placing my hands on both sides of his face. “Show me,” I whisper.

He offers no verbal response, only actions. His lips, his hands travel every inch, conquering and devouring my body…my heart…my soul.

I hastily strip off his clothes like a child with a present on Christmas morning, rushed and frenzied. He complies with my feverish demands, but once he’s undressed he grasps my wrists and places them above my head.

“Shh,” he says, burying his face into my neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” He licks and kisses down my neck while his hands move slowly under my shirt. After sliding it over my head, he begins making his way to my panties. Landing soft kisses along the waistband, his hands slowly slip the thin fabric down my legs, provoking a wave of chills across my body.

I’ve never made love. The slow, tender, passionate act is not something I’ve had and I look to Casen for direction. Rough, fast, and lacking all emotion other than lust is what I’m used to. I typically dominate and take what I want. To submit to Casen, to open my Pandora’s Box of emotions is frightening.

I try to calm my nerves as he kisses his way up my body, but when his mouth crashes down once again on mine any leftover fears dwindle. I wrap my legs around his strong body and allow him to melt into me. As the passion of the moment reaches a fevered pitch, my feelings for Casen overwhelm me. His arms feel like my safe haven; I’ve not only discovered my own heart, but I’ve found a home within his.

The sun has started to peek through the small camper windows, and the cool morning air is beginning to filter into the room. Now under the covers, our limbs completely tangled together, we’ve been shifting in and out of sleep for the last few hours. Snuggling and spooning are new to me, but in Casen’s arms, I could lay in this camper forever. I’m sure food can be delivered to us; of course the girls would understand my new life of hibernation.

“Hey you,” Casen says as he kisses my temple.

I simply reply with a smile and cord my fingers with his.

“You know I’m not going to be able to let you go, right? I’m in this for the long haul. Me and you, sparkplug, remember?” His voice is almost pleading, a fear of rejection similar to mine laced in his tone.

“Just me and you,” I reassure him. We lie in a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other’s arms until I rise up on my elbow and ask him the question I’ve wanted the answer to since he first called me the most annoying nickname ever given.

“I have to ask. Why in the hell do you call me sparkplug?” I inquire, lightly scratching my nails along his chest.