Vivian Arend - Rising, Freestyle

“You sure about this?”

She nodded. “I’ve been trying to force another panic attack, and it’s not happening. Being with you two has been perfect. Since this photo shoot means a lot to Nathan, I thought this might be a good time. I loved those shots he showed us earlier. I really, really want to try this.”

Derrick leaned back on the cushioned log, letting his admiration for her show. “Then I really, really want to see you naked.”

She looked out from under hooded lashes. “Even if it means you might be in some of the shots?”

Nathan had said all the pictures would be theirs to veto. “I get to make love with you. How could there possibly be a downside to this scenario?”

He stripped off his T-shirt before rising to his feet and reaching out a hand. She slipped into his arms so perfectly, the soft flannel of her shirt teasing his naked chest as he held her tight to his torso. One hand he spread wide over the curve of her lower back, with the other he reached up and caught her neck. Nibbling along her jaw, sneaking up on her lips to make her his. It was going to be his touch that took her all the way to paradise.

Beside them, Nathan drifted like a helpful specter, rearranging the heavy blanket closer to the fire, smoothing it out. Then he moved in one last time and kissed Melanie’s shoulder, stroking his fingers down her back. “Have fun, kids.”

He faded out of the light. Became only a darkened figure in the background, another of the flickering shadows dancing in their peripheral vision. Derrick forgot he was there. Forgot everything except the woman before him and the fact she wanted him.

One button at a time he opened her shirt, the smooth glow of her skin between the swathes of fabric appearing golden in the firelight. She hadn’t pulled on a bra. Derrick’s mouth watered as he stepped back to admire her.

Melanie’s gaze caught his, trapped him. Held him like an animal mesmerized in a bright light. Only the light came from within her as she shrugged off her shirt and let it fall to the ground. His gaze dipped to her naked breasts, peaked nipples revealing her own arousal.

“Take it off,” he ordered. Derrick palmed his erection, rubbing forcefully to give a moment’s respite from the aching need he had to fill her completely. “Take it all off and show me how incredible you are.”

The hesitation she’d shown a few days previous had vanished. She snuck her fingers into the waistline of her pants and slid them down, stepping out from the puddle of fabric. Her skin glowed in the firelight, and even the smooth flawless right half of her torso was dappled with patchy colour from the flickering flames. The tiny pair of panties she wore covered only the smallest part of her mound, silky ribbons all that held the sides over her hips.

Derrick panted with urgency as she turned, displaying her ass, a single strip of fabric disappearing between her cheeks. Some women could wear a thong well—and hot damn, Melanie was one of them. He longed to cup her ass cheeks in his hands. To rub the muscular swells and cradle them in his palms. To nip and bite his way along the crease between her leg and ass. To lick everywhere until she screamed in pleasure.

“You like what you see?” Melanie played with the ribbons on the sides of her panties. Teasing him, making him so mind-fogged he was ready to forget everything except being inside her now. One side at a time she tugged the knots loose. The scrap of material dropped to the ground, leaving her completely bare to the elements. The fire’s illumination spotlighted her.

He kicked off his shoes, stripped off his pants. Methodical. Brainless repetition, since the only thing on his mind was her. And not her body, but her soul.

“It’s not just what I see that turns me on, Mel.” Naked, Derrick stepped onto the blanket, his erection slapping his belly. He cupped her face in his hands. “It’s what’s inside that makes me crazy about you.”

If it were possible, the light in her eyes grew even brighter.

He made love to her, the warmth of their bodies forcing back the cooling night air. Even the fire’s heat faded as he touched her, stroked her to a higher pitch. Licking and sucking, caressing her breasts, the smooth slope of her belly. Priming and readying her for when he could wait no longer. They slipped together in one blissfully perfect moment, him surrounded, her accepting. The fire crackled and snapped as she moaned out her pleasure, calling louder on each progressive thrust. Melanie lifted her heels, dug them into his ass to help slam him into her core until there was no hope of retreat and only an explosion to experience.

Derrick stared into her eyes as she came, bliss causing her focus to blur. Then she shoved him over the edge as well, her sheath constricting around him so hard his climax ripped loose. Pulse after pulse of pleasure beat through him. Nothing remained but the connection between them that stole his ability to think. He clung to his sanity long enough to lower himself beside her instead of crushing her under his weight. Still connected, still intimately joined, he stroked her skin as she smiled sweetly at him. It took a long time for their breathing to return to normal as their bodies came down off the incredible high of passion.

But one thing was never going back to the way it had been before. Derrick wondered if the fact he’d fallen in love would be written on his every move from this moment forward.

Choss: Rotten rock—looks solid and safe, but is actually brittle and dangerous.

Melanie pulled up to the front of her rental, confused by the sight of her big brother Kane’s truck parked outside.

“Do you want us to wait here?” Derrick asked.

“No, you may as well help me carry my gear inside before we nab some supper. There’s no way I’m cooking, and I don’t think there’s much in the fridge anyway.”

Nathan grabbed her duffle bag off the backseat and winked at her. “Dinner’s on me.”

She returned his smile easily. There was nothing awkward between them, and she was so thankful. Even Saturday night, after she and Derrick had basically stripped and gone for it in front of the man, she’d experienced no discomfort. Sharing the tent with the three of them, breakfast and the hike out—all of it companionable and relaxed, and it was due to Nathan’s easygoing attitude. She knew it, Derrick knew it. Nathan was there, a part of their time, but not a challenge to their relationship, and grateful seemed an understatement for what Melanie felt.

It wasn’t just the ease between the three of them that made her giddy. They’d stopped to fill her car, and she’d suddenly become aware she was chatting to Derrick out the window as he pumped gas, her bare arm resting in plain sight on the open window ledge.

Someone had wandered past en route to paying at the kiosk, glanced at her and continued without another look.

There were no words to describe what a rush that was—to not have panic hit. To not want to hide.

She was still grinning from ear to ear when she opened her front door and ushered the guys into her small rental house. Kane rose from her couch, his face a storm ready to happen.

“Hey you, what you doing?” Melanie dropped her climbing bag on the countertop and headed to give him a hug.

“Waiting. I didn’t think you were going to be this late.” He nodded curtly at Derrick, eyed Nathan with suspicion. “You guys have good climbing conditions?”

“It was great. We got the pictures we needed for the article as well.” And she had slept fantastic after all the attention, sexual and otherwise, but she wasn’t about to tell her brother that part.

Kane glared at Nathan but spoke to her. “Did you sign anything? Do you have to let him keep the pictures?”

A small bubble of her happiness burst. His unexpected and harsh tone confused her. “Why are you asking that? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that Mr. Big Shot Photographer over there has been feeding you a line, and I’m worried.”

“Nathan? He’s working for Rave—”

“Right. A ‘where are they now’ update to show how far people have come since their tragedies. Well, the first story in the series was in this weekend’s magazine and it’s nowhere near the inspirational thing you told me Nathan was looking for.”

Nathan stepped forward. “What are you accusing me of?”

“I don’t know, maybe setting my sister up?” Kane snapped. “The article was supposed to be something Melanie could be proud to be involved with. If this is your idea of good publicity, then you’re going to be in a great deal of pain when I’m done with you.”

Holy shit. Melanie stepped between her brother and Nathan. “Kane, stop. What are you talking about?”

He slapped a magazine into her hand. It was folded open to a page with bold pictures. The photos were gorgeous, a celebration of light and shadow. She recognized Nathan’s work from the test shots he’d done for her.

Nathan moved to her side. “What’s wrong? My photos are good.”

“The pictures are great, the story is crap,” Kane growled. “It’s dark and bitter, and more like a National Enquirer or a scandal sheet than anything else. The man was supposed to be making a comeback from a drunk-driving accident—turns out he’s the one who was drunk, and the article shows he’s even more of a loser than before the incident.”

“Oh, come on, so just because someone else in the series hasn’t done as well as Melanie, that’s my fault? My byline is on the photos, not the story.”

“Yeah, but it seems that you’d be in on the whole series concept. What do they intend to write about Mel?”