Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“We’re staying here?”
“We are. It’s all ours tonight.”
I couldn’t help the giddy feeling coming over me. I was never much of a camping kind of girl, but I always wanted a treehouse. Dale never built me one, he said it would be an eyesore on our perfect yard.
This house was the farthest thing from an eyesore.
We climbed up the wooden steps to the entrance, revealing an outdoor dining area complete with a rocking chair and tiki torches. Just inside was a small but clean and cozy futon, a make-shift kitchen with gas grill and cooking utensils and plenty of oil candles. It was just like any treehouse I’d ever dreamed of, except adult-size. All I needed was a No Boys Allowed sign. Sneaking a peek at the sliver of skin between the hem of Rhodes’ shirt and his swim trunks as he reached up to tuck our cooler onto a shelf in the kitchen, I swallowed.
Never mind about that sign.
“Are you hungry yet?”
“Not really. Can we explore?”
Rhodes smiled. “Absolutely.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking, swinging off rope swings into the river, and lounging in the hammock out front. We talked about a little of everything, including how Rhodes had been looking into culinary schools. It was as if we were finding our confidence together — me in my body, Rhodes in his ability to be better than his past. It’s amazing how just having someone believe in you can suddenly make something that seemed so impossible to achieve feel like it’s only a matter of when, not if.
After dinner, Rhodes and I sat around the fire pit listening to the nature all around us. We made s’mores, which shocked me since I’d never seen Rhodes eat anything outside of his strict meal plan, and I played around with my camera, catching different shots of Rhodes through the flames of the fire.
“Why do you love photography?”
I smiled, snapping another photo of him. The orange glow from the fire played against the shadows of the night on his face. “I told you once before. You don’t remember?”
“You told me you’re nerdy about it and it’s your passion. But you never told me why.”
I frowned, realizing I didn’t really know the answer. “I guess I just love the power of being able to temporarily freeze a moment in time, even if it’s not as good as the real thing. I like being able to pick up a photo, close my eyes, and feel that place and time again.” I flipped through a few settings on my camera and took another shot. “We have thousands of memories and our brain is like a never-ending filing cabinet. But sometimes you forget about something until someone reminds you to pull that file. That’s what photos do for me. They take me back.”
“And what about the future?”
I dropped my camera into my lap, adjusting my position on the small tree stump. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to shoot photos for the future, photos that would drive me and make others who weren’t in my memories feel something powerful. But, I guess, to be honest, I’m just kind of lacking inspiration.”
It hurt to admit, because I’d always thought photography was the one thing in my life I had complete control over, but the truth was that I knew I had so much work to do to really hone my skills. It was part of the reason I wanted to go to an art school, not a state university.
Rhodes seemed lost in thought across the fire. After a moment, he slowly rose and pulled me to my feet, too. Sliding his hands into my hair, he pressed his lips to mine, claiming my mouth with his own. It was a possessive kiss. It was needy, yet patient and sure. He broke it long enough to whisper against my lips.
“So let me inspire you.”
Suddenly, the fire’s heat seemed so futile.
In one fluid movement, Rhodes lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles. His mouth never left mine as he climbed the stairs. He laid me down softly onto the futon and stood, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck and pulling it up and over his head. In the candlelight, the ridges of his abdomen were highlighted even more than usual. I bit my lip in anticipation of having him pressed against me.
Moving to the edge of the futon, I slid my hands over his muscles, and each one tensed with the touch. I pressed my lips to his skin, kissing him over and over. His hands found my hair, and the urge to take control hit me.
“I want to try something,” I whispered, untying his board shorts. I tugged them down over his hips and they fell to the floor. Rhodes was so hard, so ready. He kicked the shorts to the side and stared down at me as I took him in my hand. Groaning, he flexed into my grasp as I moved my hand up and down his length in a slow and steady rhythm. Hesitantly, I bent forward and just barely touched his tip with my lips.