Minor Mature Content Warning

Seth

If there's anything that cements the decision Katie and I made last night, fueled by hormones and Jacob's announcement, it's that when we finally get on the road, there's a rare, glorious sunrise shining as we wind our way to the interstate in a rented SUV.

Sunrises can make you feel like you're going to change the world.

And as I glance over at Katie, my heart does a little sunrise thing of its own. She's buzzing with excitement, making a list in her phone of all the landmarks she wants to see on this trip. I haven't seen this much fire in her eyes in months.

We hardly got four hours of sleep last night; we stayed up well into the night packing, printing out park hours, and trying to decide where to go first. We still hadn't decided when we made it to bed close to two in the morning. Coupled with an early morning start time, we're running on fumes.

Her leather camera bag lays at her feet, zipped and otherwise untouched.

I'd checked Katie's camera for her last night, and by some miracle, it had survived the accident scratch-free. It makes no sense that the lens went unscathed, but Katie has a puckered red scar on her forehead. Sometimes I catch her tracing it with her finger absentmindedly, like how she spins her rings.

I can't think about it too much, or it makes me angry.

Distraction comes in the form of Katie saying, "Let's start at Crater Lake." She's still looking at her phone. "So just pretend like you're going to Olympia to visit me, and then take the I-12 south at Elma."

"So, now that you've got an entire year at UW under your belt, do you miss The Evergreen State at all?" I ask, reaching over and clasping my hand with hers. I'm glad the rental place gave us an automatic transmission. It's nice to hold her hand.

Katie shrugs noncommittally from the passenger seat. "Mostly just Ashley. Oh, and the coffee. The coffee cart on campus sucks."

I chuckle, bringing our joined hands to my mouth and brushing a kiss over her knuckles. "You should invite her out later this summer. She can stay for a week. Two weeks."

"You're a brave man, Seth Clearwater." Her grip tightens on mine.

Katie decides after we stop for lunch outside Portland that she should probably call her parents and tell them we've decided to skip town.

She dials her mom's number but doesn't bother putting the call on speaker. The extra volume hurts my ears.

"Hey sweetie," Laura greets warmly. I can detect the hint of worry in her tone, the same one that's been there since the accident. "What are you doing?"

Katie's heart thumps hard in her chest, and I rub soothing circles across the back of her hand. "Actually, Mom? We're sort of… we're going backpacking. Seth and me."

Gross oversimplification, but okay.

"Well, that sounds fun," Laura says breezily. "In Olympic? Did you take off work today?"

"Yes. And not in Olympic. We're starting in Crater Lake, actually. In Oregon. After that we'll probably go to California or Nevada."

Laura is silent for one beat too many. "I see. How long will you be gone?"

Katie looks up to the roof of the car. "I'm not really sure, Mom. A month?"

"Katie Ann Prescott," Laura breathes. "A month? What about your jobs?"

I squeeze Katie's hand again, reminding her I'm here if she needs me. She looks to me, and releases a long, slow breath.

"I'll be fine. I'm with Seth. And the jobs are fine. I just wanted to let you know in case we drop out of cell range. But maybe we'll drive back through Great Falls to see you all for a few days, okay? But hey, Mom, I have to go. About to go through a tunnel. Love you!"

I turn my mouth to my shoulder to stifle the laugh that threatens to fly out of my mouth. We're on a wide-open highway.

"Love you," Laura yells into the phone as Katie disconnects the call.

When Katie drops the phone back to her lap, I burst into laughter. "Who's brave now?"

Katie drifts off to sleep about forty minutes later – I guess the excitement is wearing off. I pop her phone into the mount on the dashboard and settle in for a quiet drive.

I hope this idea works. I can't afford for it not to. Maybe it was impulsive and stupid, but Katie's the person who taught me spontaneity is a good thing. Spontaneity brought us together, and I'm hoping this trip will bring her back, whoever she is now.

She thinks she's changed; I know that much. I see it in the way she carries herself with her cheeks sunken in, the way she hasn't taken a photo or even gone into her office.

I wonder if Edward made good on his promise, what he decided. Part of me thinks that since the Cullens are leaving town, he must have done something. Then again, Charlie hasn't come knocking on our door asking us if we knew the whereabouts of Jordan Johnson, so I really don't know.

I can't even decide if it matters.

I still don't think about him, because the rage burns too hot in my veins. If I give myself over to it, I'll shed my skin. And the point of this trip is trying to figure out if I can avoid doing that for the rest of my life.

Leaving the pack wasn't ever something I'd considered until Katie. She told me the day she found out about me being a shifter that she wouldn't ask me to do that, and she hasn't. But I knew it was coming eventually, and why not do it now?

Katie's going into her senior year, which means an overfull load for the next two semesters while she does her final projects. Realistically she probably can't keep two jobs and do eighteen credit hours. Or maybe the better statement is, she probably can't keep two jobs and do eighteen credit hours and not get a stomach ulcer. She already tried that whole 'carry the weight of the world on her shoulders' thing once. It didn't work.

So I feel like it's my responsibility, not only as her husband and partner, but as her friend, to make sure that doesn't happen again. Time to grab some of that weight.

If Katie says she's a different person now, it's not my job to convince her she's not. It's my job to love that new person even more than the old one. I fell in love with her watching her take pictures, so it's time to do it again.

Thanks to our early start, we make it to Crater Lake with daylight to spare.

We stop at the visitor's center to get our backcountry camping permit and annual passes. We got it last year for Alaska too. It practically pays for itself if you visit five or more parks in a year. Less, if you visit one of the big ones (which I think we probably will).

"What first?" I ask Katie as we load up our gear at Sun Notch Trailhead.

She's hanging out of the passenger seat, lacing up her hiking boots. "I don't know," she says, looking at me from under her lashes. "Let's just go."

I reach into my bag and pull free the Mariners baseball cap and sunscreen. "Actually, I think this should be first. You can't get burnt on your first day, Katie Kat."

She grins, wrangling her hair into a short ponytail that will work with the ball cap as she hops out of the SUV. "You have a lot of nicknames for me. Katie Kat, Katie baby, regular baby, Katie Prescott…"

"Katie Prescott Clearwater," I add, smoothing sunscreen over the exposed skin on the back of her neck. "Love of my life. Most beautiful woman I've ever seen. My best friend."

Her cheeks are red by the time she turns back around to me, and she grabs my forearms to steady herself as she rolls her ankles to check the lacing of her boots. "I just call you Seth."

I laugh, picking up her backpack with two fingers and sliding it onto her shoulders. I straighten her hat, then lean down to her ear. "My name on your tongue is my favorite sound. Well, maybe second favorite. My first favorite is when you're—"

"Oh," she gasps.

I can't help myself, because her entire face is glowing red. "Yeah, it kinda sounds like that. Louder, though."

She steps back, but her bulging pack means she doesn't have much space to escape me, and she bumps the back passenger door of the car. She places a hand on my chest and cranes her neck to look at me from under the bill of the hat. "Can we… can we save the immersion therapy for nighttime? I'm going to break my ankle if you talk like that when we're hiking."

Gulping, I step back, creating space between us. "Sorry. Of course."

I finish getting my pack on and start to lock up the vehicle, making sure our passes are properly displayed in the windshield. I notice Katie's camera bag still laying in the floorboard, right where she left it.

There's no way she didn't notice it when she was getting out. She must not want it. I pull my backpack in front of me, making room for the bag inside. Better to have it and not need it, right? I don't want her to have any regrets on this trip.

After a few minutes of strategizing, we decide to work counterclockwise around the lake. It's about thirty-five miles all the way around, so we'll go four or five miles tonight, stopping with enough time to set up camp and eat dinner, and then tomorrow we'll cover more ground.

For as tiny as Katie is, and as heavy as I know that backpack is, she's being a trooper. I see sweat collecting on the back of her neck, darkening her t-shirt under her backpack straps. But when I ask her if she wants to stop, she waves me off and forges ahead, consulting the park map and trail markings every mile or two.

The Park gates close at sunset, so when the sky starts to darken under the tree cover and we're miles from the car and from other people, it starts to sink in. We're doing this. The most impulsive thing either of us has ever done, and we're here together.

"How about we set up over there?" Katie says from her place ahead of me on the trail, and when I track her finger, she's pointing at a clearing up ahead, in the middle of a grove of tall cedars.

We set up the tent. It's barely going to fit both of us, but for a Charlie-sized man it probably sleeps comfortably. After a quick dinner of apples and about seven peanut butter sandwiches (Katie had two), Katie's heart starts to patter in her chest.

"Something wrong?" I ask as we clean up our mess.

Katie's cheeks, although mostly saved from the sun today, are glowing pink in the dusk. "I think there's a waterfall a quarter mile east. I thought I would go wash off there. I'm pretty… sticky."

Blood rushes to my ears. Right. Nighttime, and the things we're saving for it.

"I'll come with you." The air turns thick, swallowing up the way my voice has turned husky. Was it this humid all day? Have we been talking in thinly veiled innuendos this entire time? Surely I would have noticed before now.

"Okay," she says quietly.

Our makeshift shower feels like it takes place in a lightning storm from all the electricity flowing between us. Although I try not to watch as Katie undresses, I'm a guy, and that's my wife.

Unfortunately, when she steps under the spray and the water starts to work its magic, Katie lets out a sound that travels straight to my groin. I spin around quickly.

"Seth?" she asks. It's dark enough now that she probably won't be able to see me, but I can see every softened line of her.

"Here," I strain. "Just… giving you some privacy."

Her giggle bounces off the rocks, and I stare at a neighboring boulder until I hear her dry off and pull on her pajamas. "I'm good now," she says softly.

I take my turn washing off the day, and after we brush our teeth, I guide the way back to our campsite. When we zip up the tent for the night, Katie starts to strip her shorts.

I choke. "What are you doing?"

Her cheeks light up. "I figured I'd get too hot sleeping in pants next to you."

"It can get down to the thirties at night here." It's hard to talk, and my tongue feels foreign in my mouth as I reach up to unzip the roof flap.

I focus on the way that a few stars can be seen through the treetops, and not the way Katie settles in next to me, not bothering to unpack her blanket or anything else she could use to cover up.

All of that stuff goes out the window when Katie clears her throat.

I suppress shivers as Katie slides her hand up my arm, across my shoulder, around the back of my neck.

"Seth," she whispers. "I really want to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you all day. And I don't want to stop, but I… I might need to."

I nod curtly, and keep my eyes locked on hers as I lower my mouth to hers slowly. Her eyes flick back and forth between mine, wide and a little wild, until her breath fans out over my lips. Then they flutter shut.

The air is muggy with weeks of restrained touches, vivid dreams, and desire. Her heartbeat thuds into the space between us. Two heartbeats. Five.

Then she closes the gap.

Her lips are warm, inviting, which makes it that much harder for me to hold back. It's not the desperate, long-overdue reunion I've had dreams about. It's soft and slow, and I'm reminded of our first kiss. I'd been scared out of my mind to kiss her then, and I'm just as scared now.

I slant my mouth over hers, and she exhales a breath into my mouth. She tastes like toothpaste and peanut butter, and I don't know how it works, but it does.

It is so, so wonderful.

I'm not alone in my observation, because fingernails dig into the soft flesh at the base of my skull, clutching me closer.

Hands. What do I do with them? Hold her face? Grab her waist? I can't decide. I clench them tight at my sides to keep from touching her in the wrong way. I pull back with a growl and rest my forehead on hers.

"Why'd you stop?" she breathes, her eyes flying open.

"I'm not sure what to do with my hands," I admit, and when she looks down to my balled-up fists, my ears go hot.

She licks her lips, and I feel it on my skin. In my bones. "Just… slow. Whatever you do, go slow, I think."

I lay us back to the floor gently.

Katie slides her hand down my chest, coming to rest over my heart. It's beating erratically, just like hers. She's giving me her look. The 'come here and kiss me like you mean it' one.

But I don't want her thinking I'm expecting anything of her. Anything at all. It's the first night; we have the whole trip to do this. "Katie, we don't have—"

She's already shaking her head to cut me off, and her lips move to the underside of my jaw, my throat, my Adam's apple. I can feel my pulse vibrating her mouth, and my breath feels raw in my throat.

"We can start with fooling around, okay?" she whispers. "If it's too much, I'll tell you."

I'm straining against my shorts, but I still manage to nod. I'm dying to feel her skin against my palms, make her feel good. "Tell me where you want my hands," I urge, presenting them to her in invitation. "I need to touch you."

She must decide she needs that too, because she doesn't hesitate to guide my hand to her hips. "Here."

I curl my fingers around the soft curve, and my fingertips slide under the hem of her tank top. I chart her throat, the hollow between her collarbones, with my lips.

When I nip at her neck, it elicits a shiver from her. Another when I slide the fabric of her shirt up her torso, stopping at her ribcage.

I keep my eyes trained on her face when I touch the newly exposed skin, but her eyes are shut. I trace the shapes of her tattoos. The one on her hip first, the one she got for me. The wolf. My favorite.

I trail lazy fingertips up to the bunch of flowers by her heart, more tentative.

If I feel her start to tense, I back off. She relaxes, and I advance again. It takes a few minutes to settle into this new rhythm. She's doing great, breathing through it. Her heart's pounding, but so is mine. And her hands are still exploring me, so I take that as a good sign, too.

I cover the flowers with my palm, slotting my fingers into the grooves of her ribs. "Can I kiss them?" I whisper against her lips. Her cheeks flush, and I realize she thinks I'm talking about her breasts. "Your tattoos."

She whimpers a soft please into the night.

A wolfish grin covers my face, and although still moving slowly, I move with purpose as I lean down, flicking my tongue across the ribbon of the bouquet before suckling the skin between my lips.

"I forgot how you tasted here," I groan, pushing up the fabric of her tank top slightly so the lower swell is revealed, along with the rest of the bouquet of flowers. "It gets me so damn hard." She looks like she doesn't believe me, so I shift my hips, pressing my crotch into her thigh.

It's hot as hell in this tent. Her skin is growing slick with sweat under my hands. I'm glad we didn't bother with sleeping bags.

She gasps, and it pushes more of her into my face. It must not be enough, because she finally peels off her tank top, exposing more skin. More everything.

My blood is banging its way through my arteries, right to where I'm pressed against Katie's thigh. This is another one of my fever dreams, lucid and real, every cell in my body pulsing.

Slowly, I slide my hand from her waist to her ribcage, and up again to fit my palm over her.

"Seth," Katie whimpers, her grip tightening on my back. Except it's not a sound of pleasure. "I'm sorry. I can't." She's already scrambling for her tank top, clutching it to her chest.

When I pull back, there are tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, and she's tense under my hands. I shake my head and gather her in my arms. "No, Katie. Don't be sorry. Just breathe, okay? You're safe."

"I'm safe."

"I love you and respect you."

"You love me and respect me."

"Just you and me."

She nods slowly, her lip quivering. "You—" She glances down, where I'm straining against my shorts rather painfully. "You didn't finish."

"It doesn't matter, okay? Let's just try to sleep. Long day tomorrow."

I measure the next week based on two factors: Katie and Katie. Does Katie pick up her camera during the day, and does she want to go any farther in the tent at night.

It takes another day and a half to hike Crater Lake. From Oregon, we travel three hours south to Redwood National Park in California, and then another four hours east to Lassen Volcanic National Park a few days later.

In Redwood, Katie doesn't make any moves on either front. She takes pictures on her phone but doesn't take her camera when proffered. In Lassen, she lets me touch her chest over her shirt, but stops me before anything else can happen.

Progress is progress, though.

Today, though, we're starting Yosemite, arguably one of the best national parks in the United States. Surely that has to be symbolic of something. It's hard for me to keep my hope tamped down.

There's no way we can do the entire park, but our plan is to spend a week on the northwestern side of the park. There's a backpackers' camp Katie's interested in checking out. And then we'll decide whether we feel like tackling Half Dome.

We make it to the backpacker's camp – which is a humongous glorified sandy field, probably the size of a dozen football fields – around dinnertime. There are tents everywhere, campfires dotting the field before us like sprinkles. Laughs and smoke rise from all over. Hammocks are strung up all through the tree line, sometimes two or three stacked on top of each other.

When I look to Katie, she's smiling ear to ear. "This is awesome," she breathes.

Since she's so keen on taking charge right now, I let her. She winds her way through the miniature cities of tents, and people we've never met give us friendly greetings and waves. Some even lift fresh, cold beers in an offer. Katie stops to pet at least five dogs.

Katie drops her pack in a relatively clear area, between two tent groupings. I'm glad her camera is still in my backpack, because it hits with a heavy thud. "Here."

We've hardly got the tent fabric unfolded before footsteps approach from behind.

"Hey man," someone says.

When I turn, there's a guy nearly my size approaching us fast. Katie shrinks behind me, clutching my forearm.

The man stops, holding up his palms face out, in a surrendering motion. "I'm sorry, my mistake. I was just going to offer help with the tent. I'm Joey." His palm turns to a handshake motion, and when I flick my eyes over his body, I don't pick up any threats. The people behind him, who are all peering over curiously at us, all seem nice enough.

I let my shoulders fall back neutral as I reach to return his handshake "Hey. Thanks. I'm Seth, and this is Katie."

Katie mumbles a hello, and I feel her shame and embarrassment rolling off her in waves.

Joey helps unfurl the fabric of the tent. "You don't get cold in this thing at night? It's not very thick."

I try to shrug as casually as I can. "We run hot at night."

Katie fiddles with our packs, pulling out apples and a fresh loaf of bread we picked up in the last town we drove through.

Joey crinkles his nose at it. "That's your dinner? Nah, you should come hang out with us."

I exchange a look with Katie, and with a shrug, we schlep our dinner over to the neighboring camp.

There's three tents circled up by a decent fire, and four other people, presumably Joey's companions, scattered around it.

"Guys, this is Seth and Katie." He turns back to us, takes in Katie's hand dwarfed in mine. When he speaks again, there's a smile on his face.

Joey begins pointing to the friendly-looking faces. "This is Kenny and Paige," he says, pointing to the tanned blonde surfer-looking guy and girl, "and Reed and Sierra." Reed looks native, like me, and Sierra is pale but has black kinks of curls piled up high on her head and sunburn striping her cheeks.

"Beer?" Reed asks, already reaching into a foldable cooler at his feet. "Lukewarm at best. There was ice in there about twelve hours ago."

"Still beer, though," I say, reaching for the can. "Thanks."

Reed holds up another can. "Katie?"

I open my mouth. "She doesn't—"

"Thanks," Katie says, reaching to grab the can. Well okay, then. First time for everything.

Joey plops down between Paige and me, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "So, what's your story?" he asks, turning to us.

"Story?" Katie asks, cracking open the can. I can tell based on how it sounds it's probably a little flat. But it's beer, and it's free, and we've been drinking so much water I'd take almost anything with flavor at this point.

Kenny laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. "Yeah. So Paige and me are from Australia," he says, with an accent that matches his statement. "We're siblings. Our mom died a few years ago, and it was in her will to scatter the ashes in Yosemite. Came here and have been back every year since."

I glance to Katie, and she takes a sip of beer to cover the fact that her mouth's hanging open. At the accent or the words it's wrapped around, I can't tell.

"And I saw Paige the next summer and fell head over heels," Joey says, and Paige laughs, sliding forward so his arms falls away. "Just kidding."

"No he's not," Sierra says. "But Paige is smarter than that."

Reed chuckles, leaning forward to poke at the fire with a long stick. "Sierra and I met them here a few summers ago. Right here," he says, pointing at the ground. "And we all just decided to keep meeting. Every year, same spot, same third weekend in June."

"That's amazing," Katie says. "Do you keep in touch? What if someone can't make it or something?"

"Nah," Joey says. "We have each other's numbers, but it loses its magic if you take it outside the Park. I mean, look at this place."

I take a minute to admire the scenery, the still-growing tent city around us. Above, stars are beginning to flicker through the smoke screen. I know instantly what he's talking about.

"So?" Sierra asks. "What's your story?"

I look to Katie, and I'm expecting her to do her little head tilt, so I know to take charge. But she takes a heavy gulp of beer – it dribbles down her chin – and a deep breath.

"I'm from Montana. I moved to Washington for college, and two falls ago I took a solo road trip up the coast to this little bitty town called La Push. It's got these awesome rocky coast lines I was just dying to get pictures of. I was on the beach, taking pictures of these guys surfing, and two of them started heckling me."

"One of them was Seth," Kenny guesses.

Katie giggles, and I take a swig of my beer. "No," she says. "He was still surfing. But when he came out of the water, it…" She pauses to look at me, and I notice color blooming high on her cheekbones. "It was love at first sight," she admits, studying the can in her palms.

Paige croons, and Reed claps a hand over his heart.

"He asked me out, and I willingly met up with him the next day. I thought he was a serial killer," Katie admits, looking at her lap.

"But I killed her with kindness instead of a knife," I chuckle.

Katie snorts. "He's not joking. We went out to an island, and he literally carried me back across the shoal so my feet wouldn't get wet. And the next day, he "held my hand" so I wouldn't trip hiking on the cliffside."

"After she agreed to date me, we did long distance for a bit. And then I asked her to marry me," I continue. "Five months after we met."

"Damn," Joey says through his teeth. "You're, what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty," Katie corrects. "Twenty-one in October."

"You've got balls, kid," Paige says, leaning over to tap her beer against Katie's as Reed mumbles about giving alcohol to minors.

He moves to crouch by the fire, pulling out foil packets. When he unwraps it, a mouthwatering aroma rises up to meet me, and my stomach growls. It's just fish, probably from a neighboring lake or stream, but right now it smells better than any four-course meal I could think up.

"Oh my God, actual food," Katie mumbles, low enough that I'm the only intended recipient.

Sierra hears anyway. "Are you hungry? We have plenty."

"Oh no, we couldn't," Katie says, shaking her head vehemently.

Kenny rolls his eyes. "Don't be silly. We caught way too much today. It'll go to waste if you don't eat it."

"You have to help me clean them, though," Sierra says, reaching into another cooler and producing two more fish. She eyes me up and down, and pulls out one more, just for good measure.

Katie's cheeks glow as she makes her way over to the woman. "You have to teach me. I've never done it."

As Katie learns about cleaning and descaling fish, I talk with Kenny and Paige about the surfing in Australia, comparing it to the waves and swells in Washington. Despite what Joey said about leaving the magic in the park, I come away from the conversation with an open-ended offer to crash on their couch if I'm ever in the area.

Not that I'll ever be in the area of Australia, but still. It's nice to have the option.

We sit around the fire, drinking beer and eating fish and apples and s'mores until well after midnight. Parties like ours are carrying on all around us, from all directions. Somewhere further down the clearing, I hear a few guitars.

When I look to Katie, there's something besides sun and alcohol lighting her cheeks. It's the spark, the one she hasn't had since before the accident, maybe even before last fall when life caught up to her.

I forgot how it makes her eyes dance. How no matter how hard she tries to suppress it, a smile still lifts the corners of her mouth. I want to kiss those corners.

"So you said you take photos, Katie, yeah?" Paige asks after Katie finishes off her second s'more.

My heart squeezes in my chest. Katie probably doesn't want to talk about photography.

But she surprises me when she nods, licking marshmallow off her thumb. "I'm going to school for photography."

"She's amazing," I interject. "She's won contests. Published in newspapers."

"Impressive," Joey says, standing and beginning to crunch cans under his heavy-soled boot. He flattens them. "You should take our picture."

Katie's pulse jumps, and she reaches to spin her rings before remembering they're safe at home in La Push. "I haven't taken a picture in a month and a half. I had a… traumatic experience."

The mood turns somber, and although other travelers are still being rowdy in the distance, in this circle you could almost hear a pin drop.

Finally, Joey clears his throat. "What happened, if you don't mind sharing?"

"I was sexually assaulted," Katie blurts. "By someone I trusted, someone I thought was a friend. We had photography in common." Her voice quavers but is somehow firmer than I've heard it in a long while, despite her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I've been trying to figure out how to take it back. The photography. I don't want him to have any more pieces of me than he's already taken, but it's hard."

"Shit, mate," Kenny murmurs. "You have bigger balls than me."

The circle is quiet for a few beats, and Katie lets out a shaky laugh. Her allowance of this moment makes my heart swell, and as the others join in on the laughter, I lean over and give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Have you all been to God's Bath yet?" Sierra asks. "It's this amazing natural swimming basin. We're heading there tomorrow. You should come with us. It's about twenty miles from here, so we camp there and part ways the next day."

Katie looks at me. "What do you think?" she asks me softly. "Do that and then come back for Half Dome?"

I have no intention of telling her we can't do something that's clearly making her more alive. So I nod. "Hell yeah. Let's go."

The smile that comes across her face is brighter than the fire in front of us and the stars above us.

The night winds down quickly after that, with the intention of an early start. Katie and I make our way back to the tent, where Katie slips on her normal sleep attire: tank top and underwear. I strip to my boxers, and we settle in together.

It takes me about a minute to distinguish the sounds coming from one of our new friend's tents, and Katie catches on shortly after.

"Are they…?" she whispers.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I nod. "They are." A yelp of surprise carries to us, followed by a quick shushing and sultry laugh. "It's Sierra and Reed."

Katie hums. "Great."

Chuckling, I press a kiss to her head. "Maybe they'll be done soon."

They aren't. It lasts for far too long. Well, probably not for them. And normally not even for me. But for a guy who hasn't had sex in close to two months and is lying next to his very sexy, very almost-naked wife, it's a long time.

Especially after Katie's body starts to respond to the auditory stimulus.

"Are you… turned on?" My voice is gruff.

Katie shifts to pull herself from my chest. "I don't know why you ask that when you clearly know the answer. It's like listening to porn."

"You don't watch porn," I remind her, making sure my own growing problem doesn't touch her.

She looks over to me, and in the soft light of the moon I see her eyes scan my body. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a problem." There's humor behind her tone.

"That has nothing to do with them." My words come out an entire octave deeper than usual.

Her breath hitches in her throat. "What's it have to do with?"

"You."

In one fluid motion, Katie pulls off her tank top and drops it to the nylon beneath us. "Touch me," she says. "Please touch me."

I shift over her, grinning into her neck, and my breaths become shaky as my thumb traces the line of her flowers, the lower curve of her breast as she lays back onto the tent floor. "Is it okay if I… you know."

No, Dr. Hutchison said I need to be direct. Fully declare my intentions. Plus, she'd told me cheekily, saying the words aloud can "increase sexual intimacy and act as foreplay in itself."

I shake my head, and when I speak again, my voice is rasping and low. "I should be clear. I want to kiss you here, Katie." I flick my eyes down to her bare breasts. "Lick and suck them. Bite them." All the consonants come out harsh; my teeth snap together on the t.

She flushes almost instantly, and I feel her thighs clench together underneath me. It stirs the scent of her arousal, and my mouth waters. Maybe the therapist knows what she's talking about after all.

Katie nods, gnawing on her lip. "Let's try."

I nudge my nose to her breastbone before coming up to graze a kiss across her pulse point. "I love you, baby. Just stop me if it's too much."

I touch her first with my thumb, a gentle sweep around the swell of her breast. God, I've missed her. Her skin is soft even through my calluses, and I get a swell of wolfish pride that I'm the only man who gets to touch her in this way. Ones that take without asking don't count.

She starts to tense up, so I back off. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and I don't know what she's remembering, but there's a little crease between her eyebrows that tells me it's not pleasant.

I pull my hand off. "Look at me, baby. Why don't you try watching me touch you?"

When her eyes fly open and she sees me hovering over her, she practically melts. We sigh in relief together.

I keep my eyes locked on hers as I reach for her again, rubbing the pad of my index finger over her nipple, taut against the night air.

A loud and startled gasp flies from between her lips, and she pops up to her elbow. "Tell me no one's around for miles."

At first, I don't understand her reasoning behind this. She knows we're surrounded by tents. If we can hear what's going on in Sierra and Reed's tent, surely they can hear what's going on in ours.

But then I realize Katie's asking me to lie to her. She needs reassurance that we're allowed to do this, even when people might hear. Being overheard has always been a bit of a hang-up for her, but if she's asking…

Her eyelids flutter as I draw another lazy circle with my fingertip. "There's no one around for miles."

Katie falls back to the floor, and her hips lift off the ground, searching for something. "More," she urges. "Put your mouth on me, Seth."

I groan against her neck, and now my eyes are the ones to shut as I oblige her.

Oh. This is what this is like. I'd almost forgotten, but I remember quickly. How she feels between my lips, against my tongue. As promised, I suck and lick and bite, and whether Katie's subtle rocks into my hips are intentional, I can't say.

She pulls at my hips; some of our old familiarities are beginning to come back. She wants me there. I slide my thigh between her knees, pressing firmly into her center. My shorts have ridden up, and she's just in underwear. There's nothing between us but one piece of fabric. Thin, hot, damp fabric. I did that.

I move my mouth to her other breast, teasing this nipple in turn. I could spend hours here, tasting, swirling, playing, as she rocks into my leg. I might. I lose track of time.

It's been a while since we've grinded like horny teenagers – to be honest, we didn't really have much time for fooling around before we got married, not with Leah watching us as diligently as she did. But Katie's honest to God grinding against my leg, and I can feel every line of her underneath the fabric.

"Seth," she moans softly. "I'm—I'm going to come."

Apparently, this grinding thing is working rather well.

"Fuck," I whisper around the stiffened peak, and I press against her center harder, firmer. "Let go, baby. I've got you."

She tips over the edge underneath me, and as her grip tightens on my back, I growl into her chest, grazing her nipple with my teeth. Wetness is practically dripping down my leg, and Katie smells so good, I can't stop grinding.

She didn't even touch me, but the fact that she trusts me enough to let me get her off, allow my hands to explore her body again, makes my heart and that other untouched place tighten.

I grind my painful erection into her hip but force myself to stop before my body can take over.

This isn't about me. It's all about Katie, what she needs.

After Katie comes down, I sit back on my heels.

"Where are you going?" she whines, chasing me upright. Her chest is heaving, and we're both struggling to breathe. Her cheeks are flushed bright red, and her hair's all over the place, sticking to her sweat-dampened neck.

God, she's beautiful. And God, do I want her.

I hang my hand on the back of my neck and let out a low chuckle. "I think… quit while we're ahead? We should take it in chunks. That's what Dr. Hutchison said."

"I—" she stops midsentence. Over in the other tent, some sort of crescendo is certainly taking place. She purses her lips, but nods. "I'll get you next time?" she says, wincing.

I chuckle to release the breath I'm holding (and also to cover up some of those sounds). "I'm not keeping score, Katie. I like giving you pleasure as much as I like receiving it." I take in her flushed bare breasts, still heaving. "Sometimes more."

We lay back down, me still painfully hard and Katie comically soft and pliant.

Right before I finally drift to sleep (which takes a while, because of aforementioned painful hardness), Katie leans over to place a kiss on my jaw.

"You're the only one who has every part of me, Seth."