Imogen laughed, and the sound sent birds scattering from the red maple behind her. The sunlight that streamed in between the canopy of leaves danced across her face, and her eyes sparkled.
Ty had no words to describe how she looked, how he was feeling.
And suddenly the meaning of the quote he had memorized from Much Ado About Nothing became clear.
So he said to her, "‘Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.' " Imogen's laughter died out and her hand curled into a fist on her chest. "What did you say?"
"‘Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.' "
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Act Two, Scene One. Claudio describing his joy in being with Hero."
"It definitely suits how Ty feels about being with Emma Jean right now," Ty said, shrugging off his heavy camping backpack and dumping it on the ground. The hell with it. They'd get to the site eventually.
Her eyes widened and she made a sound in the back of her throat. "That . . . that. Oh, my. You . . ." It seemed he wasn't the only one having trouble finding words. Ty closed the distance between them, took the cooler out of her hand, and set it on the ground. Then he pulled her into his arms with more passion than finesse and took her mouth beneath his.
"I've been thinking about your lips all weekend," he told her, kissing her over and over, hauling her as tightly up against him as he could manage.
Her response was to grip his shoulders and kiss him back, dipping her tongue inside his mouth to flirt with his. They were plain old making out, fast and furious, and Ty wanted to feel more of her, all of her, wanted to bury himself inside her right there on the trail.
He loved that sound, the moment when her breathing shifted, when it went ragged and hot and desperate, the sound that told him he could take and she would give. Glancing around, Ty eyed the nearest tree with a large, wide trunk.
"Turn around," he told her urgently, popping the button on her jeans and unzipping them. "Walk to that tree."
"What? Why?" she asked, but she did it, wiping her moist lips and swiveling her hips in a seductive
invitation.
Ty followed her, hell, stalking her, and when she reached the tree and started to turn back toward him, her mouth open to question, Ty just took her and pushed her back against the tree trunk, his hand slipping down into her unzipped jeans at the same time he claimed her lips again. He closed his eyes on a rush of lust, the feeling hot and wet in his mouth, just the way she felt beneath his finger when he slid inside her. Her moan sighed softly past his ear, and Ty started tugging her jeans down.
"What are you doing? You can't be serious," she said, even as her hands lifted over her head and braced against the bark. She was still wearing her backpack, and it caused her chest to arch out toward him, a temptation too great to pass up.
Ty sucked her nipple through her shirt as he finished shoving her jeans and panties down to her knees.
"Wow, you are serious, aren't you?" she asked, sounding completely scandalized, yet oh, so turned on.
Raising his head, he said, "Yes, I'm serious." He used one hand to unzip his own pants and release his erection, and the other to stroke her slick inner thighs.
"Oh, Ty, yes."
Yes was right. She felt so good wrapping around his fingers, he wanted his cock in there. "Spread your legs for me."
He loved that Imogen didn't protest or demur or act like she didn't want it just as much as he did. She just turned her knees out and dug her nails into his shoulders and waited for him to fill her.
Which he did.
They groaned in mutual pleasure. Ty paused for a split second, to torture himself, then he stroked in and out of her, hard, fast, pounding at her, in her. He felt out of control, desperate, consumed by the need to take her, to make her scream his name in the woods.
Their rhythm was so furious that Imogen's sounds of pleasure were short, quiet little pants, punctuated by the occasional breakthrough full-on moan when she caught enough breath. It was beautiful against the silence of the trees.
Until they heard a rustling and snapping.
"What was that?" Imogen asked, her eyes flying open. "Oh, my God, is that a bear?" Shit. Shit. And shit. Ty pulled out of Imogen, zipping her pants up quickly and stepping back away from her. "Worse. It's people coming down the trail." Ty tucked his erection in his jeans and winced. "Damn, that sucks."
"People? People are coming?"
"Yes." He could hear their voices now. Ty reached out and yanked her off the tree trunk, where she'd looked frozen midfuck, and gave her a quick kiss. "Time to move along, babe." Imogen checked her zipper and gave a nervous laugh. "Well, that's embarrassing. And really disappointing."
"Tell me about it." Ty slung his pack over his back and tried not to think about the unsatisfied ache down south. Walking gingerly, he looked around. They were missing something, but between the sex and the sudden stop presatisfaction, his brain was blank.
Wiping her lips, she craned to see down the trail. "Oh, geez, here they come. Where's the cooler?"
"The cooler. Right." That was what they were forgetting. Ty had dropped it on the edge of the trail, just before he had marched Imogen up against the tree trunk.
Imogen bent over to pick it up and her backpack slipped over her shoulder, sending her stumbling forward.
"You okay, babe?" He started toward her, but she giggled.
She righted herself and turned around, smiling. "I can't believe we almost got busted." Ty grinned back. "Almost is the important thing. But they're here, so mum's the word." A man and a woman in their midthirties came enthusiastically trekking up the trail, which reassured Ty that at least if they had gotten busted, it wasn't by a pack of Boy Scouts or anything. He would have felt terrible if a kid had seen them doing the deed. Of course, he hadn't given that possibility much thought before he'd started tearing down Imogen's pants.
"Hey, how's it going?" Ty said, nodding politely as he stepped aside to let them pass.
They smiled and greeted him. Then the man did a double take.
Uh-oh. Ty braced himself.
"Say, aren't you Ty McCordle? The number sixty car?"
Ty plastered on a smile. "Why, yes, sir, I am. How are you doing today?"
"Just fine, just fine, thanks." He shook his head and adjusted his ball cap. "Wow, what a coincidence, you being here and me stumbling on you. You're a fantastic driver. Been rooting for you all season."
"Well, thank you, I appreciate it. Hoping to finish out the year strong, but there are some really good cars and drivers out there."
"True, true." The man turned to his companion. "Look at this, Lisa, it's Ty McCordle. Can you believe it?"
Lisa shook her head no rapidly. She looked a little awe-struck.
"What are you doing here? Just hiking and taking in a little R and R?" the man asked.
"Yep." Ty put his hand on the small of Imogen's back and rubbed it to reassure her, knowing she had to be thinking if this couple had walked only a touch faster, they might be having a different conversation.
Hopefully if he had been caught bare butt, no one would have recognized him, though. He didn't imagine much of his fan base was familiar with his backside. "How about you?"
"Yep. Me and the wife are on a long weekend. It's our fifth anniversary this past weekend."
"Congratulations."
The man beamed at them. "Thanks. This your girlfriend?"
Ty fought the urge to sigh. He loved and appreciated his fans; he truly did. They made the sport both profitable and a hell of a lot of fun. They kept the energy level high and spurred him on to do the best he could week after week. But there were times when a man wanted some peace and privacy, and this was one of them.
"This is Imogen." That was a respectable way to avoid the question, because he had no clue how to really answer. He didn't think they were dating officially yet, but he wanted to be. It just wasn't something he wanted to discuss with total strangers on the trail. "We're just doing a quick one-night stay here. I have to get back and plan for Atlanta."
That effectively diverted the man. "Right, sure, of course. Coming down to the wire, aren't you?"
"Jim, maybe we ought to let them head on their way," his wife said, nudging him.