I stared into his eyes.
Hop stared into mine, not done. “You keep getting better and better.”
He did too.
“Well, good to know,” I started softly, “that I’m returning the favor.”
His face went dark, his eyes went hot and he growled, “Fuck, don’t do that shit.”
“What shit?” I asked, perplexed at his expression and tone.
“Did you against a wall in a bathroom and you bein’ sweet makes me want it again.”
“I think the kids and my parents will wonder where we are.”
“That’s why you can’t do that shit.”
“Okay, I’ll stop being sweet.” I gave in.
“Be obliged.”
I grinned.
Hop looked at my mouth.
I swayed into him.
Hop looked into my eyes.
“You go out first, lady. I’ll follow in a few.”
I nodded.
He dipped his head and gave me another lip touch.
When he lifted his head, I got on my toes and gave it back.
He gave me a squeeze.
Then he let me go and I went out first.
He followed in a few.
Thankfully, the kids were engaged in a sack race by the time we returned so they had no clue we’d been gone, and my parents didn’t rejoin us until fifteen minutes after we got back.
As for me, I stood in the Colorado sun at the base of a magnificent mountain in the heart of God’s country feeling good. Feeling steady. Feeling fabulous.
Finally.
* * *
“I’m going out to take a walk,” I called from the door of the spacious, well-appointed, six-bedroom “condo” owned by my parents’ friends. It was currently occupied by me at the door in my coat, Dad in front of the TV, and Mom already in bed with her crutch even though it was only eight-thirty. “The night feels great. I’ll probably be a while.”
“Lanie!” Dad called back and his voice was closer than I expected it to be.
He was coming my way.
“Later!” I cried, slipped out, closed the door and hustled my booty on its way toward the village.
I pulled my cell from my pocket, found the text Hopper sent me and scrolled through it. Then I followed his directions out of the posh area where I was staying with my parents, through the village, and into the denser area of attractive condos where Hop and the kids were staying.
I found his, walked up the open flight of steps at the side and knocked on the door.
Seconds later, it was thrown open.
Molly looked up at me then turned to shout into the condo, “Finally! Miss Lanie’s here! Now we can play Pictionary!”
She raced into the condo, leaving the door open and me outside.
“We aren’t playing Pictionary!” I heard Cody yell.
“We so are!” Molly yelled back.
“We aren’t. It’s g*y!” Cody shouted.
“Games can’t be g*y, boy. People are g*y, games aren’t, and it isn’t a bad thing to be.” I heard Hop’s rumble but it was coming my way so I stepped in and closed the door.
“Dad!” Cody cried.
“Shut it,” Hop warned then appeared in the entryway.
I pulled off my jacket.
Hop’s head, looking back into the condo, turned to me.
My heart warmed and my lips smiled.
His eyes dropped to my mouth and his teeth caught his lower lip.
I’d never seen him do that. It was a good look so my legs trembled but I managed to stay standing as Hop made it to me.
“I’m getting Pictionary,” Molly yelled as Hop rounded me and took my jacket but did it close.
His lips came to my ear. “Wish I could kiss you.”
I wished that too.
I twisted my neck and caught his eyes.
At the look in his, my legs nearly buckled.
“We should play Wii. They have a Wii, we should play it.” I heard Cody declare.
“We have a Wii at home, Cody,” Molly told him.
“So?” Cody asked.
“Though, this shit is killin’ the mood,” Hop muttered, and I grinned as I moved into their condo.
It was spacious too but warmly, not architecturally.
“Hey, Cody,” I called.
“You like Wii?” he called back.
“You wanna say hello?” Hop suggested from behind me in a way that was not entirely a suggestion.
“Yo, Miss Lanie,” Cody mumbled, wisely taking up his dad’s thinly veiled order.
I smiled at him.
Molly materialized at my side. “Do you like Pictionary?”
I looked down at her. “I do, but we can’t play.”
Her face fell. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a moral imperative to play boys against girls and we’d whup their butts. I’m sort of creative, do it for a living. This means I never lose at Pictionary,” I announced.
“Dad and me’ll kill you,” Cody declared.
I looked at him and threw out the challenge, “Impossible.”
He hurled himself over the back of the couch, racing away, shouting, “I’m getting Pictionary!”
My work done, I moved to the couch and sat down.
Already this was better than TV with Dad.
“Nice work, lady.”
This was murmured in my ear by Hop. I turned my neck. He was behind the couch but bent toward me. I caught Hop’s smile and gave him one back.
He straightened and moved away while Cody raced back with the game and got on his knees beside the coffee table. Molly moved in to help him set up.
I took in a deep breath and let it out right before I felt cold on my arm. I looked down, saw a bottle of beer pressed there, and lifted a hand to take it even as I tipped my head back to smile my gratitude at Hop.
He smiled his acceptance.
Definitely better than TV with Dad.
Pads and pencils disbursed, timer at the ready, we settled in and I played Pictionary with badass biker Hopper Kincaid and his two kids.
The best.
The best I’d ever had.
And, incidentally, Molly and I whupped their butts.
Three times.
* * *
Hop and I were standing outside his condo door making out, me in my jacket, him in his thermal henley.
This was lasting awhile and I was going with it, hoping Hop knew the drill inside where his kids were getting ready for bed, so he’d know how much time we had to enjoy what we were doing.
I was also going with it because we’d never just made out, it leading nowhere but to the goodness of taste and touch, bodies pressed together in the cold.
It was fabulous.
Eventually and regrettably, he broke the connection of our mouths but not our embrace.