Summer, My Crush, His Parents

Chapter 5 - Emma

"You girls sure you have everything?" Joel asks, his voice carrying over the truck's uneven idle.

He hefts my backpack into the bare metal bed with a dull thud. Emma's entire beat-up old Ford rattles from the impact. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.

"Yup," she says with a nod.

Claire stops biting her nails for a second. "I'm still anxious about the two of you alone in the wild."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Reyes, we're not leaving my grandpa's property." Emma smiles at her, then she waves her cellphone. "Besides, we'll have a signal the whole time if there's an emergency."

"What if there's an animal, or worse, strangers?" Claire pushes, eyes flicking to me.

"I've got my gun packed," Emma counters casually, like she's talking about sunscreen.

Of course, the poetry-reading goth is a gun nut.

In the corner of my eye, I catch Joel nodding in approval.

"You two have fun," he says, winking at me.

Claire pulls me into a bear hug. I'm not sure if she's supposed to be my mom or my lover right now, but I melt into her all the same.

"Be careful," she murmurs against my neck.

"We're off then," I declare.

Joel opens the passenger door for me and helps me up, surreptitiously squeezing my elbow. I give him a quick smile before he shuts it behind me with a solid thunk.

Emma gestures for me to roll down my window. No AC, obviously. She pulls down the Reyes' driveway, and I wave at them. This is more dramatic than when my parents shipped me off to college.

"Damn," Emma says. "You made a big impression on Noah's mom."

I shrug. Truth be told, I don't mind being away from them for a few days. Things have gotten really intense. Even if I'm the one starting most of it. I need to take a breather somewhere else for a bit.

Emma doesn't need to know any of that, though.

"She's lived with two men for twenty years," I say. "And now you're taking away her excuse to play dress-up."

She chuckles, then points at the glovebox. "Find us some music? It's a bit of a drive."

CDs almost burst from the small compartment when I unlatch it. I can't even pretend to recognize the names of the bands until I stumble upon Avril Lavigne.

With a smile, I slide the disk into the player, already anticipating Emma's reaction.

Without missing a beat, she groans as the first notes play over the speakers.

"Seriously?"

I giggle. "You know what you were getting yourself into. Basic girl summer!"

"I thought you'd be cooler, you're into computer science. Like a nerd-chic savant."

"All my life I've been good, but now..." I sing along at the top of my lungs, bouncing on my seat, shaking my head in the cramped air of the truck.

Emma keeps one arm draped over the open window, pretending to hate it, but I catch the corners of her mouth betraying her every time she glances my way.

She looks unfairly cool. A black tank top shows off her collarbones. One hand loose on the wheel. Sunlight flashes across the soft hair on her forearms, and my eyes wander lower, to the frayed edges of her denim cutoffs and the toned stretch of leg they leave bare.

After a while, she turns onto a dirt road. The Ford zips through dry pastures, no sign of another car, just the swell of rolling hills in the distance. We cross an open gate, with a cliché cow skull hanging from it.

"We just need to stop at the house, grab the cooler," Emma explains as a tan farmhouse comes into view.

"Is your grandpa there?"

"Nah, he's off at some fair. I managed to dodge it," she grins proudly.

She parks in front of the house. It looks a lot nicer than I expected, just missing a rocking chair. We make a beeline for the kitchen, and Emma stashes a bunch of beers and some fresh food into a large blue cooler loaded with ice.

"This is the first time I'll go without a fridge," I realize.

"It'll be good for one or two days," she assures me. "I've got some longer-lasting stuff already loaded in the car. But we can make a resupply run if you're feeling too fancy for that."

"Me? Never."

Soon enough, we're back in the truck.

"We're heading for the hills," Emma says, nodding toward the rising slopes. "There's a nice little lake. The one I told you about."

The truck shakes as we follow a rough trail. Trees begin to dot the landscape until it feels like we're in the middle of a forest.

The so-called lake is more like a collection of ponds. It's in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by hills on every side. A few trickling brooks feed into it, then escape as a single, larger stream

Sandy banks give way to cobbled shallows and big, round rocks jutting out of the clear water. The largest pond looks deep enough to be completely submerged. Its surface glimmers under the sun.

This whole scene looks downright idyllic. It feels sacrilegious to drive a car in here. Thankfully, Emma parks on the widest part of the bank, under the shady cover of a large tree.

As soon as the engine turns off, nature sounds reclaim the air. I can hear a few croaks, the sound of water rolling stones around, and a faint wind in the foliage. It smells like moss and wet rocks.

"Wow," I whisper, lighting Emma's face up with satisfaction.

"Told ya," she says. Her fingers brush the inside of my arm, pulling me back to reality. "Come on, let's set up."

===

I take in our little domain: a narrow tent that rocks slightly as Emma changes inside, the camping stove balanced on a folding table, two chairs set up in the patchy shade. The cooler's still in the truck, under the cover of the trees, to try and get it to last as long as possible.

This all feels very adventure-y to me. But what do I know?

The tent's flap opens with the characteristic sound of a zipper. Emma's head peeks out, a big smile on her lips. "Your turn."

I stay put, watching as she eases herself out through the opening. Her bikini is more like a sports bra and boy shorts, a light year away from the feminine pieces Claire picked for me. The cut flattens the bounce of her chest, but it still draws my eyes.

A flicker of heat goes through me when I catch the dark tuft peeking from her armpits. Another thing to file underunexpected stuff I'm into.

Once she's clear, I duck into the tent. The entire thing smells like plastic and deodorant. It's going to be cramped in here with both of us. Another prospect that makes me tingle.

I peel off my sweaty clothes, folding them in a pile. I'll need to hang them outside. My bag's exactly as I left it: not a single bra or bikini top in sight. My brilliant idea not to chicken out. After all, this is my one move: get half-naked and hope the other person is into it.

Worked on both Joel and Claire so far. Striking out with Noah makes it two out of three, not so bad.

I pull up my flimsy bikini bottoms, still hyper-aware of the smooth skin between my thighs. I shaved myself entirely bare for Emma. Even Joel didn't get that treatment.

A few steadying breaths, and I crawl out.

The sunlight hits me first, hot on my shoulders. Emma's in the middle pond, floating lazily. When I straighten up outside the tent, her head turns. She goes still, eyes locking on my bare chest, lips parting just a little.

It takes all my willpower not to bolt. I walk toward the water like it's nothing, even though my face feels on fire. The pond's cool when I wade in. It bites my stomach and hips

"What..." Emma starts, eyes still peering at my submerged breasts.

"You like it?" I ask innocently.

"Yeah, of course," she says too quickly, tripping over the word. "You look fantastic."

I grin at her. The tone of her voice hits the right spots. It's amazing how easily I can turn that confident girl into a flustered mess. "Thanks."

"But uh," she continues, unsure. "I don't know if I..."

"Relax," I cut in. "I'm not expecting you to match. It's just something I picked up from Claire. I mean Noah's mom. Feels more natural now."

Something in my voice seems to calm Emma down. She lets out a small chuckle and unwinds.

"Mrs. Reyes is walking around topless? Damn, wish I'd known that in high school. I would have begged Noah to have me over. God, that accent of hers..."

I can't help but laugh at the dreamy look on her face. When my feet paddle close enough to her, I can feel her warmth through the water. Every once in a while, toes bump into shins.

"Isn't it weird that Noah barely speaks any French?" I ask.

"Meh," she says, shrugging her shoulders as much as possible when swimming. "My Mom's Filipina, and I know maybe three Tagalog words."

"Fair enough." I don't push. We've texted enough for me to know she doesn't have the best relationship with her parents. "So you have a gun?"

"Yup," she says, then sizes me up. "Ever shot one?"

I shake my head. "City princess, remember?"

"We've got a range. I could take you tomorrow."

"It's a date."

===

There's a weird vibe as we clean up after dinner.

We spent most of the afternoon swimming. Playing around in the water provided a fair amount of excuse for "accidental" touches and caresses.

I threw on clothes to help her with the food. Turned out pans work the same, camping or not. But the easy conversation was gone. No shoulder bumps, no little glances. We ate our reheated chicken in silence.

Did I push too fast? This feels like a thousand miles removed from our cutesy, kissy date a few days ago.

I gather the last of the dishes and call over my shoulder, "Can I brush my teeth in the lake?"

"If it goes in your mouth, always use bottled water," Emma answers from within the tent, not bothering to get out.

Deflated, I head to the shore.

Night falls hard this far out. Thankfully, summer means that we get as much daylight as possible, but in an hour or two, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to see the other side of the pond. The critters are still up, though, and the sounds never really die down.

I brush my teeth with clean water, then try to rinse the sand and dirt off my legs by splashing them around in the pond. I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea of going to bed feeling this grimy. But I need to broaden my horizons, like Claire always says.

Emma almost winces when I slip in the tent. She's tucked in her sleeping bag, on top of the thin mat, one bare leg sticking out for fresh air. There's a square flashlight hanging from a hook, lighting the entire scene in a dull golden glow.

"You look comfy," I say, smiling.

"Yeah," she doesn't look at me. "Actually, I think we could share sleeping bags. It would be more comfortable than trying to fit another inside the tent. Only if you want to, I mean..."

Oh.

I get it now. The awkwardness, the silence. She was psyching herself up for her ownone move.

"Sure," I shrug.

"And if you want, you can sleep naked," she offers bashfully. "I don't mind, whatever makes you more comfortable."

The strap of her sports bra peeks out over the edge of the bag. But I'm not going to point out the obvious hypocrisy. I'm down for pretty much everything as long as it gets her in the mood for more than just a few flirty comments.

"Turn around," I say.

I have to contort myself to undress, almost fall face-first on her. I pause for a second when I get to my panties, then shrug them off.

"Make some room," I whisper as I crawl next to her.

Emma shifts, still pink-cheeked, and lifts the edge of the bag. I slide in beside her, grab her left arm, wrap it around my own shoulder, and rest my head on it. Emma beams at the touch, giving me the green light to press myself closer.

This is too cute.

"Did you get a good look?" I chuckle.

She groans, rolling her eyes. Still, when I lift the bag again, she stares right until I cover myself back up.

"Busted," she admits when I catch her gaze.

"You're only busted if I don't want you to look."

My head, cushioned by her strong bicep, is only a few inches from hers. I peer into her brown eyes, bite my lip. She has to get the signal. Right?

It takes a few seconds of thinking for her to finally make her move.

She leans in. Her lips barely brush mine at first. They get a lot more confident when I lick them. It works out really well. Her other hand lands on my stomach, then glides up, tracing my ribcage, not yet daring to grab a boob.

My fingers drift up her bicep, sneaking around to her armpit. I have no idea why I'm so drawn to the curly hair she has there. I caress it, fascinated by its texture. Yup, definitely a new kink for me.

"Stop tickling me," she snorts.

"But it's so soft," I say, mesmerized.

The slow rise and fall of her chest shifts the cover down, revealing the snug stretch of her sports bra. My eyes follow the line, the way the fabric presses against her, hinting at everything underneath.

She catches me looking, her arms tensing just enough for me to feel it.

"Can you turn off the light?" she asks in a quiet voice.

I find the hard sliding switch, and the tent goes dark. When I try to cuddle back into her, she's wriggling around. An elbow grazes my hair. I can hear the sound of fabric brushing over skin.

In the darkness, there are only hints of moving shapes reflecting the faintest glow of starlight through the nylon. I still catch the gleam of her nipple piercing.

Patiently, I wait for her to settle down, but she doesn't have my patience. Her arm wraps back around my neck, pulling me into her. I happily comply, thrilled to feel her slide her panties down her legs.

"Feeling brave, are we?" I shrug when my head finally rests comfortably on her bicep.

"I just don't want you to feel like you're easy," she says, pressing her lips to my forehead.

Despite the bravado, there's a shiver in her voice.

"Can I touch you?" I ask, doing my best to resist the tantalizing expanse of flesh I can imagine offered to me, barely a few inches away.

"Sure," she breathes.

I glide my hand up her stomach, teasing the swell of her breasts. They're heavy, sitting lower than Claire's. I weigh one in my hand, making Emma giggle. I finally get to play with the piercing that has been on my mind since our date.

The slightest tug on the metal bar makes her moan.

"You changed it? Your piercing, I mean. I thought it was a ring."

"Yeah," she says, still catching her breath. "Wait... how do you know?"

"The black crop top you wore to the bookstore? Super see-through."

"Great," she groans. "I guess my entire family knows my nipple is pierced now."

I lick up the salty skin of her arm until I find the squishy flesh of her chest.

"Poor little Emma," I say. She can't see my pout in the dark. "Want me to make it all better?"

"Please."

Leaning over, I suck her nipple in my mouth. Her piercing clinks against the back of my teeth when I pull on it, giving that same uncomfortable feeling of a spoon bumping against them.

Emma presses my head into her breast, letting me know that I'm on the right path.

With my left hand, I lightly play with her armpit hair, amazed at the effect it has on me. Too distracted by my suckling, she only notices my right hand when it reaches the tangle between her legs.

"Are you okay if I play with you down there?" I ask, my voice almost comically muffled by boob-flesh.

Emma's been so skittish, I'm channeling my best Claire impression to make sure I'm not pushing her too far. I almost chuckle. Harper, the sex expert. What a twist.

"Mm-hmm," she manages. I can feel her entire body shake from her eager nods.

I venture lower, finding wet, matted hair. My pride swells. I did that.

She whimpers when I circle her hard clit, hips giving a tiny jerk. I match the pace to her breath, tweaking and adjusting to Emma's every twitch and gasp, the way I learned with Claire. It works so well, I have to let go of Emma's nipple and press my lips to hers to silence her. I don't want her mating calls to attract some local wildlife.

When I slide a finger inside her dripping pussy, her walls clench around me. I curl my finger, rubbing until I find a spot that makes her gasp into my mouth. The cramped tent fills with wet sounds and the sharp smell of her arousal.

I feel so powerful. With just a few touches, I've completely undone Emma. Despite her strong arms and taut stomach, I'm in control.

She writhes, giggles, and moans under me. Her hands explore my naked back, she pinches my breasts, and keeps me mashed against her own.

We're not even pretending to share the sleeping bag anymore. It bunches around her legs, leaving us on the bare mat. I'm almost kneeling next to her now, my feet kicking against the nylon of the tent with every one of her clumsy attempts at touching me.

Then she folds around me, legs and chest shooting up. She calls my name as I keep my fingers inside her, my lips around her nipple.

Emma drops the mask. She pulls my head to hers, greedily kissing me as I feel her pussy pulsing through the orgasm. But it's not enough for her. She manhandles me, reminding me just how tiny I am, and gets me to lie on her, bare body on top of bare body.

Her arms clamp around my chest as she settles down, and I squirm, happy to feel just how unable to resist her I am.

"Had fun?" I tease after a while.

"You're a demon," she says, breathing hard. Still, I can hear the contented smile.

I giggle, pressing a kiss into her damp armpit, savoring the cushion of her chest against mine and the coarse brush of her bush teasing my freshly shaven skin.

"And a pervert too," she adds with a laugh. "Don't kiss me there, I'm gross"

I take that as a challenge and kiss her again, making her giggle helplessly.

We lie tangled in silence, holding each other. My teeth catch my lip as I rock my hips, sliding my pussy against the firmness of her thigh. I hope she'll offer to return the favor, but dare not ask for it.

But by the time I work up the nerve, her breathing has slowed, and the faintest snore escapes her mouth.

===

"Don't you think things are going a little fast?"

The bashful question knocks the smile right off my face. I've been glowing ever since waking up to Emma between my thighs, eating me out in the tent this morning.

We're in her truck now, bouncing over the rocky path out of the hills, on our way to the shooting range. The jolts rattle through me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, leaning sideways, trying to catch her eyes. But she keeps them pinned to the road, both hands tight on the wheel.

"You know." Her voice dips. "With my last girlfriend... it took us six months before we got physical." She hesitates, then adds, "We've seen each other twice before yesterday."

I think for a second. Then think back to my conversation with Joel.

"A guy I was seeing..." I start.

"You date men?" Emma cuts in, perking right up.

A cold shiver runs down my spine as she finally looks at me.

"Yeah," I shrug, trying to sound casual. "Is that an issue?"

She doesn't answer right away. Her jaw flexes.

"I guess not," she says finally, but her tone's more careful than convincing.

I smile. "Okay, so that guy told me that him and his..." Fuck. "Ex-wife..."

"Ex-wife?" This time, she does sound offended. "How old was this guy?"

Sometimes I wonder if I'm purposefully trying to expose my affair with the Reyes.

"Older," I admit. "Want to hear what I was going to say, or not?"

"Sure," she says. "Sorry."

"Good." I squeeze her thigh, and she can't help but smile. Still, I'm not as enthusiastic when I pick up my little anecdote.. "Basically, they slept together within hours of meeting. Chemistry, you know?"

"So are you saying we're getting married?"

I panic, but there's a smirk on her face.

"Very funny," I say. "No, but you get the idea, though, right?"

"We're here," she cuts in, pointing at an embankment littered with old junk. Then, with a grin, "But yeah, I get it. You're a succubus, feeding off innocent girls like me."