As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Samantha tightens her arms around my waist. I flex my fingers around the reins, letting my mind wander for a minute. I can picture Samantha’s hands bound with these very leather straps, her hair fanned out on a pillow, her lips red and swollen from sucking my cock. I grit my teeth against where the fantasy goes next. This time is going to be sweeter than ever. It’s been so long…
The ride to the dune where I saw the sea turtle nest doesn’t take very long, which is fine with me. This slow, date-like beginning is strictly for Samantha’s benefit. I should probably warn her that it won’t last long. I don’t have the patience to drag this phase out to its normal length. As much as I’d like to, I can’t skip it altogether, though. There has to be a certain level of trust established, and it happens during this period. I know this from past experience. I’ve just never been this anxious before. It really has been too long.
For a couple of years now, I’ve limited myself to just watching when I go to my favorite…establishments. I found that it keeps me from getting that cold-turkey withdrawal sensation. But watching is nothing like doing.
I slow Galen and guide him more inland, toward the dunes. I stop him when we reach the hardly-noticeable trail in the sand. I dismount and drop the reins at the base of the dune, effectively tethering Galen to the spot, before I help Samantha down.
“They’re here?” she asks, putting her hands on my shoulders and leaning in as I ease her off the horse and let her slide slowly down my body.
I peer down into her face. It must make her nervous because she licks her lips. The sight of her pink tongue sneaking out to wet them makes me think of my earlier fantasy. “Don’t you trust me?” I ask the question knowing that, no matter what answer she gives, she doesn’t trust me. But what she does trust is that I can give her something she’s never had before. And that’s what she can’t resist. I know it as surely as I’m standing here in the sun with her.
“Of course. I didn’t mean…I just…”
I tip my head toward the streak in the sand. I see her eyes flicker to it and widen. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Depends on what you think it is.”
“A momma’s trail.”
“Then yes, it is what you think it is.” Her face lights up with innocent delight, making me ache again. I pick her up and carry her through the sand, following the barely discernible trail.
“How did you find this? Do they nest here every year?”
“I don’t know. I just happened to notice it when I rode yesterday.”
“You ride every day?”
“No. Only when I’ve got something under my skin.”
She looks up at me. I know she’d like to ask what—or who—but she doesn’t. And I’m glad. I’d rather she wonder about it. I watch her steadily until she turns her attention toward the sand as I continue on to the nest.
I follow the path, made by the sea turtle’s body and flippers, to where the eggs are buried. “I’ve lived in Charleston most of my life and I’ve only ever seen one nest. And I’ve never seen the hatchlings running for the water,” she informs me.
“Roughly two months from now, you could probably catch them if you put in the time to stalk the nest.”
“Have you ever seen them?”
“No. I’m more fascinated by other…natural phenomena.”
Again, she looks up at me, shyly, from beneath her lashes. I wonder if she feels like prey. She should. If she doesn’t, she really doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.
“I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine you’re the patient type.”
“You’d be surprised by how patient I can be, especially when it’s something I really want.”
“I thought your forte was aggression,” she says, referring to my earlier comment.
“Oh it is, but sometimes there must be…preparation for the aggression. That’s where the patience comes in.”
“Are your efforts ever wasted? Do you ever find yourself disappointed?”
Although she’s trying to hide it, I can see that she’s very interested in my answer.
I meet her soft gray eyes, holding her gaze. “Never. I always get what I want.”
I set her down near the nest when we reach the head of the trail. There’s not much to see at this point. Just some disturbed sand and the remnants of the female’s departure. The eggs themselves are covered. But I’m not interested in this anyway. For the moment, it’s Samantha that has my undivided attention.
There’s a place I’d love to take her, but I know she’s not ready. It makes me wish I didn’t have to work tonight. After a day like today, I could make some significant progress. Move her along in the right direction. But tonight can’t happen, which means I need to capitalize on today.
“How’s the foot?” I ask.
“It’s feeling much better. I don’t think I hurt it too badly.”
“We still need to get you off it. I should take you back and get you home, where you can put it up.”
She nods, but says nothing.
So sweet and shy.
She turns away from the nest and starts to hobble forward. Once again, I bend and take her into my arms. Carrying her back to the horse means I can mount the horse and place her in front of me. Just where I want her.
So I do. I carry her to Galen and climb atop him, much like I did earlier, placing her between my legs. She doesn’t argue.
I reach around her to take the reins, my face getting caught in the wild tangle of her hair. The fragrant mass tickles my nose.
“Have I ever told you that I love your hair?” I whisper near her ear as I ease Galen back down toward the hard-packed sand near the surf. She doesn’t respond, so I continue. “It’s like wildfire. Hot and untamed.”
I feel her breathing pick up. I know how my close proximity affects her and, of course, I’m going to use that to my advantage.
“Don’t you ever want to be like that? Hot and untamed? Wild? Don’t you ever want to let go and just feel?”
Her fingers dig into my thighs where she’s holding on and I imagine liquid heat starting to bubble in her stomach.
I urge Galen into a faster gait. “I want to see you let go like that, be wild. Free. I want to make you forget about the rest of the world for a while. I wonder if you’d let me…”