Till Summer Do Us Part(80)

She’s about to respond when we hear a motor approaching in the distance. We both look to the side just in time to see Sanders drive up toward us in his four-wheeler. Wearing a turkey-shaped hat on his head, he parks the four-wheeler and then sticks his head out the side, taking in our position.

“Well…that’s more like it,” he says as he hops out, revealing his Thanksgiving dinner shirt and matching pants. It’s summer, and he’s wearing mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie on his body, but at least he matches. He’s got that going for him. “How was your night?”

I slip out of Scottie’s embrace but keep my arm wrapped around her shoulders as I face Sanders. “It was good. Right, Pips?”

She looks up at me and then at Sanders. “Yes, it was good.”

“Did we work out our issues like adults?”

I nod. “We communicated, aired out the issues, and both apologized with sincerity.”

“Good.” He folds his arms. “Because I have food in the back of the four-wheeler if I need to keep you out here another night.”

“I think we’re good.” I grip my back and stretch. “Could use an actual mattress tonight.”

“Then let’s finish cleaning up, and then we can head back to camp. I have quite the activity planned for today.”

I can only imagine what that is going to be.

Together, we gather up the rest of the tent items, stuff them all away, and then pile the bin on the back of the four-wheeler. I slide in next to Scottie in the second row and drape my arm behind her.

“So,” I say. “Uh, the other couples mentioned the other night that there’s some tent experience that they hoped they’d take part in. Was this that?”

“They said that?” Sanders asks on a laugh. “Yes, this would be it, but I’m not sure why they’d want to take part in it. To me, sleeping on the rock-hard ground over a fluffy mattress is way more of a punishment than anything. Then again, they’re a different bunch.”

You can say that again.

What is it with them? They were jealous about this outing in the woods with a tent? Christ, I wouldn’t be frothing at the mouth to make that happen. Unless one of them heard about a different experience and then told the others.

“Tell me something you learned about each other while out here,” Sanders says, continuing his therapy sessions whenever he gets a chance.

“I learned that Scottie likes it when my hand is up her shirt.”

“Wilder,” she scoffs while both Sanders and I laugh.

“You know, Ellison likes the same thing,” Sanders says. “She also doesn’t mind sharing a sleeping bag.”

“Scottie didn’t mind that either. She actually enjoyed it quite a bit. She got real handsy.”

“Me, handsy?” she says, looking over at me. “You were the one who grazed my boob.”

“If only it was the nipple.”

Her mouth falls open while Sanders continues to chuckle.

“Yeah…well…Wilder had a boner this morning and pretended he had to pee when in reality, he was trying to hide it from me.”

I gasp. “You saw that?”

“The woodland creatures from a mile away saw it,” she deadpans.

I press my hand to my chest. “Babe, are you saying I have a prominent penis? Thank you.”

“Jesus,” she mutters under her breath.

“Okay,” Sanders says. “So if you were aroused this morning, why didn’t you want your wife to see it?”

Oh shit, that’s right, we’re married. Kind of forgot that detail for a second.

I clear my throat and say, “We took a vow of celibacy while we’re trying to work out these issues. Didn’t want to make sex a thing, since we’re both so good. You know, as Sabrina Carpenter would say, we have really good bed chem.”

“Ahh, I see. And if she saw your arousal, that would be…”

“Pressuring,” I answer. “I never want her to feel pressured about taking care of me like that.”

“So you took care of yourself?”

“Not so much,” I say, not caring that I’m talking about this in the slightest. “I stood behind a tree, taking deep breaths as I tried not to think about Scottie’s slumbering yet wandering hand that caressed my dick.”

“What?” she asks, pulling back. “I didn’t caress you.”

“Oh babe, you most certainly did,” I say with a smirk.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah, you did. You flipped over while I was on my back, moved your hand around my chest and stomach—she’s always loved my abs, man—”

“You are a very fit man,” Sanders says.

“Thank you. And then from there, her hand went right over the old dong. Made me nearly jump out of my shorts. That’s when I scrambled out of the sleeping bag and the tent, claiming I had to go to the bathroom.”

“And what would have happened if you didn’t flee? What if you just let her touch you while she was sleeping?” Sanders asks as he avoids a rock in the path.

“Uh, well…I would have been panting and begging for more as she wandered her hand around. I probably would have slipped up on our pact, pushed her shirt up, and while she had her way with me, I’d have had my way with her.”