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"Did you just have an orgasm?"
Charlie's pink tongue darted over her lips, whisking away the trace of white. A satisfied moan caressed the night. "Better a s'morgasm." She bit into the s'more and delight softened her face.
Something akin to jealousy drilled into Bastian's gut. Things hardened further south for him. Snaps and pops from the small fire filled the silence. Beyond the tree line, another campsite blared hillbilly rock. The throb of music was too low to make out, but it vibrated the night with bass.
Another catlike purr emanated deep in her throat.
"All right, that's enough. Much more of that and I'll have to slap a triple-X rating on the marshmallow bag."
Charlie held out her treat with sugary flirtation. "Want a bite?"
He gave her no warning. He leaned close and snagged the entire offering with snapping teeth.
"Hey! You thief. That was mine." She huffed with her indignation. The gooey sweetness made it hard to smirk but he did his best, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Typical man, get a quick s'morgasm and leave a woman wanting."
"There's an entire bag of marshmallows left. Have all the s'morgasms you want," he teased around the mouthful.
Her bottom lip shot out with a pout as she grabbed the pack of graham crackers from his fingers. "I'm not sharing with you anymore."
"Then make me one of my own."
She cocked her head. "Do I look like your mother?"
"If my mother had looked like you, I'd have gladly been a mama's boy."
The things her laugh did to him were illegal in twelve states. What should have been illegal was the way her faded cutoffs hugged her ass. She looked like Betty Boop in mutilated Levis. There was no way a whisper of air could fit between her skin and the denim, but his fingers would love to try. He fisted them tight to maintain control. Down, boy.
Swallowing more than chocolate and graham cracker, he pulled his eyes from her behind. "Was there peanut butter in that?"
She speared two marshmallows onto the stick he'd sharpened for her. "Yep. Reese's Cups instead of Hershey Barsthe difference between a s'more and a s'morgasm."
"Leave it to you to find a way to make camping sexual." Bastian shook his head with a grin.
Charlie made everything sexual. Some women turned heads. Charlie Pierce turned entire bodies. More than one man had done a complete one-eighty as she walked down the street. She was a siren and a vixen without apology. Her sapphire eyes stared straight at a man, daring him: if you want to look, then look your fill.
No one knew him better and he couldn't imagine his life without her. He loved her to distraction.
He wanted her with an obsession.
He treasured her like Fort Knox.
He was in hard-on hell.
She was his best friend, his platonic, nonsexual, do-or-die-for buddy.
Somewhere along the line, he'd fallen in love with her. It didn't matter that she had a boyfriend. It didn't matter that she'd never looked at him that way. Nothing mattered except she'd stolen his heart and made him feel alive. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it except love her in silence.
Long, graceful fingers smoothed a stray dark hair from her face and she caught his gaze. The smile she beamed at him outshone the campfire behind her and warmed his heart with more heat. "Just to be a brat I should drop yours in the dirt."
"Try it," he growled. "And you'll be sleeping in the dirt while I hog the tent."
"Better than your knees nailing me in the ass again."