Something To Remember

The Invitation

You

"Do any of you hike?" you asked. The question was addressed to the table but you were looking at her when you spoke. The immediate flurry of responses from everyone making it clear that not one of them has realised who your question is really aimed at.

"My fingers do all the exercising I'll ever need thank you very much!" one laughs.

"You wouldn't catch me dead anywhere near that much nature on purpose!" another exclaims.

"Urghhh, I used to a long time ago but I just can't with the early mornings," says a third regretfully.

"You'd have to bribe me with a trail of snacks and alcohol I think, Hansel and Gretel style," another states, taking a swig of their drink.

"I think anyone who hikes is possessed and needs to get their head checked," another voice, sounding slightly horrified. The sentiment is echoed by most of the others as they all jokingly tried to outdo each other with the claims about how much they dislike anything to do with hiking.

You barely listen to them, waiting for the only answer you really care about. She meets your look over the top of her glass as she takes a sip of her drink, the corner of her mouth quirking up into an almost smile before her eyes slide with exaggerated slowness towards the bag you'd seen her fishing a wallet out of earlier.

You keep your expression innocently neutral as she shakes her head slightly, knowing she is fully aware that you'd recognised the pins it was decorated with for what they were - commemorations of hikes and trails all around the country.

She stays quiet and you can't help the cocked eyebrow that reveals your impatience, her equally innocent expression that dissolves into silent laughter making it clear she knows exactly what she is doing. She waits a few more beats before answering and her quiet "I hike" seems to drown out every other sound, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

You'd volleyed the ball into her court, seeking an opening. And she had granted it with a spectacular return that would have left you floundering if you hadn't been half expecting it. Because she'd been throwing you off balance since the moment you'd met just a few hours before, when your table and hers had decided they'd had enough of trying to talk across the gap between you and pushed them together.

You'd held onto her hand just a little longer than necessary when you'd introduced yourself, let her see the flare of interest in your eyes when she'd turned a querying look at you. She'd tilted her head slightly, not breaking the look, clearly considering.

She'd pulled her hand away, but you would swear by the little smile that had curved her lips that the brush of fingertips across your palm had not been an accident. And the she had gotten up to help carry a round of drinks back to the table and sat down in the chair across from you instead of the one next to you were she'd been originally.

You'd raised an eyebrow at her and she'd shrugged lightly, the smile she'd given you all innocence while the look in her eyes was a clear challenge. You'd hummed softly to yourself in appreciation. She'd been interesting before, but now that she'd thrown down the gauntlet so to speak...she was pure temptation.

And the hunt has always been your favourite part of any encounter. What did or didn't come after was just a delicious reward.

Her

She has been wondering for a while now whether you had any intention of taking this mutual flirtation between the two of you any further. The brief touches that had lasted just a little bit too long to be purely casual, shared looks and fleeting smiles that said a thousand different things without a word being exchanged, your subtle double entendres and her seemingly innocent innuendos lacing conversations between and within earshot of each other.

It has been a slow racking up of tension that has her shifting restlessly in her chair, trying to find a position that would relieve the slowly throbbing ache between her legs. And she wasn't going to lie that she had been sorely disappointed when she realised the evening would soon be coming to a close, with her returning to her hotel and you returning to somewhere else...somewhere that she wasn't.

But this. This was an interesting twist. "So you hike," you say and she is lost for a moment in the sound of it. God your voice. It was what had drawn her attention to you in the first place. That silken sound drifting towards her during a brief lull in the hubbub around her.

She'd found herself losing focus on the conversation around her while she tried to describe it to herself. Warm, just a hint of velvet, smooth and sultry. The type of voice that crooned soulfully into the microphone at some smoky hole in the wall while it's owner strummed along on a beat up guitar.

She reaches for her drink to cover her moment of distracted day dreaming. "Yes, I do." She turns to you, placing her glass on the table but keeping her hand wrapped loosely around it, her thumb brushing away the condensation gathered on the outside. Trying to keep her hands busy so she wouldn't reach for your hand, your arm, your leg.

Feel the soft warmth of your skin instead of the cold glass under her fingers. It was why she had moved across the table from you in the beginning. Because if she'd stayed sitting next to you she would never have been able to resist giving into the urge to feel whether your skin was and warm and soft and smooth as your voice.

It was. She knew that now. Because her hands had a mind of their own and had found a way to drift over to you ever since you'd managed to find your way back to the seat next to her. God. You were dangerous for her self-control. Thank goodness she's switched to something non-alcoholic ages ago.

Because then she didn't know if she wouldn't be able to give in to the urge to find out if your lips matched you voice and your skin. She finds her gaze drifting to them every time you speak. You're wearing a shade of red lipstick that is daring her to kiss it off. And she has never been one to back away from a dare.

But not now. Not...yet.

You

She swallows, her eyes closing for a moment as she takes a breath and you can't help being a little disappointed for a moment. The way she had focused on your lips, her aquamarine eyes darkening to a mossier shade. You knew exactly what she'd been imagining.

You had felt the pressure of that look as though it was her lips on yours, had felt yourself leaning into the kiss that hadn't happened. Felt your body responding to the way her eyes had darkened, your nipples tightening, the curl of heat she'd been feeding all night clenching tighter.

"Yes I hike. Why do you ask?" You curse silently, shift back in your chair, reach for your own glass. This woman was doing her best to be the death of you through the slowest and most exquisite torture you had ever endured. And damn her if you didn't want more.

"Well I am going on a hike tomorrow. My usual partner had to bail on me, work thing. So..." you let the sentence drag out, trail into silence.

"Sooo...what?" she's wearing that innocent expression again and you have to laugh, shaking your head. She wasn't going to give a single inch.

"So I need a partner and I'm going to assume you've never done any of the trails around here because you said you'd never been here before," you say.

"You assume right," she states. She's going to make you spell it out the little witch.

"So how would you feel about going on a hike tomorrow morning, with me as your personal guide?" There. You've asked. You can feel yourself holding your breath a little as you wait for her answer. If you had your way, you wouldn't be waiting so long to get her on her own.

But one of the friends you were here with was crashing at your place tonight, you already knew she was sharing a room with someone in her group and you had a good feeling that even the hint of an audience would be an instant 'thanks for the memories' as she headed out of the door, never to be seen again.

But it was one thing to spend a night flirting with someone in a bar, and maybe go home with them if the flirting went well. Quite another to agree to meet them hours later. And for a hike no less. Not exactly the sexiest of invitations. And so you held your breath.

She does that little head tilt thing that you find absolutely adorable. Bites her lip, which you've noticed she does when she's thinking. And which you find incredibly distracting. "Alright," she says softly. You can't help the triumphant smile you flash at her.

"Perfect! Can I pick you up at your hotel in the morning, say around 6am?"

"Yes that will be fine. I don't have my usual gear with me though. Wasn't really expecting to go for a hike."

You assure her that it's fine, glance at your watch and groan a little inside. This was going to be the longest 8 hours of your life.

Eight Hours

Her

She is staring at the hotel closet, trying to decide which of her unsuitable for hiking outfits she is going to wear. Jeans might be a good idea, but she hadn't asked you how long a hike you were planning. And if you were still out there once the sun got fully up all you'd be able to think about is taking them off.

Although maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing she thinks to herself, grinning a little. Maybe she'd even ask you to help her get them off. She shakes her head firmly. I need to stop thinking like this she tells herself silently. Need to stop thinking about you taking her clothes off.

About your hands exploring her skin. About her mouth exploring...Jesus. She's doing it again. Getting herself lost in some little fantasy. Eight hours was a lot of time in any situation. It was definitely more than enough time for all that heat the two of you had built up last night to have cooled.

Except. That kiss. God that kiss.

She still couldn't decide if that had been a good idea. But you'd just been so damn sweet in that moment and she hadn't been able to help herself. Her group were just getting started with their night and wanted to go to some other venue, your group were divided between going with them and going home, and she just wanted to get back to the hotel.

She'd told everyone it was because she wanted to get some rest before her early morning, but when she'd looked at you as she said it — she knew that you had seen the truth in her eyes. Knew that you knew that she'd been fighting the urge to grab you by the hand, drag you into some dark corner somewhere and finally finally ravish your mouth the way she'd wanted to from the first moment she'd heard your voice.

Push you up against a wall, kiss her way down your neck, pop the buttons on that wispy blouse and finally fill her hands with your breasts. Or her mouth. Because her hands would be sliding up along your thighs and under that flirty little skirt that had been tempting her to find out whether you were a silk or cotton kind of girl.

Grabbing your ass and pulling your against her as she ground into you. Jesus. She needed to stop this. That kiss though. She couldn't get it out of her mind.

And she wanted to do it again.

You

You can feel the thrumming of your heart as you pull up to the last traffic lights before the hotel. You'd told her last night that if she changed her mind about going on this hike (date?) with you, that all she had to do was not be waiting outside when you got there.

You'd even told her that you didn't need to exchange numbers, because you could leave a message with the front desk for her if you needed to tell her anything. And she could do the same. You'd been squeezed into a spot at the bar ordering a last round of drinks before everyone split up for the night when you'd said it.

Facing each other with barely a hands width between you. Close enough that you could feel the heat of her on your skin, knew that if anyone jostled either of you that you'd be right up against each other. Feel her denim clad leg between yours if you shifted just right. Feel the softness of her curves pressed against your own.

You'd hoped someone would jostle you. And then it hadn't mattered. Because she'd shifted forward, lifted herself up onto her toes as she slipped a hand under your hair to pull your lips down to hers — and kissed you. Not urgent and ardent and bone meltingly carnal the way you'd expected.

Instead it had been slowly exploratory, achingly heartfelt and utterly sensual. Also agonisingly unforgettable. "Thank you" she'd said softly, before getting the bartenders attention, ordering their drinks and taking them back to the table. Acting for all the world like she hadn't been the least affected by rocking the very foundations of yours.

You knew she had though. You'd heard the shaky breath she'd drawn in as she turned away, seen how she'd gripped the edge of the counter so hard her knuckles had turned white.

You pull up to the entrance of the hotel and it feels like your heart is in your throat. Eight hours or however long it had been since you'd said goodnight was a long time. More than enough to have changed her mind, for the intimate pressure to have faded away.

She's not there and you feel a rush of cold disappointment. You'd known this was a possibility but you-

The doors swing open and there she is, a small backpack slung over her shoulder and that riot of curls you'd itched to run your fingers through last night in a neat French braid that you want to tug loose. You let out an explosive breath of relief.

Thank god.

Her

She sees you pulling up and walks over to your car. "Perfect timing," she says as she climbs in and pulls the door closed. She takes a calming breath that she hopes you don't see as she settles herself in the seat. She's committed now. Well committed to the hike at least, she amends in her head.

Not that she's sure what else it could be. It was a hike after all. Not dinner and dancing. Or a trip to some secluded beach. And for all she knows -- you don't plan on it being anything more than a hike. She glances at you while you drive, sees the looks you're casting over at her and tugs a little self-consciously at her shorts.

"I told you I didn't have any proper hiking gear with me," she mutters. Your chuckle is soft and she can see the eyebrow you've raised even though she's not looking at you.

"And what exactly is different between what you're wearing and your 'normal' hiking gear then?"

"Well shorts that are a little..." she tugs at the hem again, shrugs and grins wryly. "Less short for one." She's laughing with you now and hopes you don't realise she's also laughing at herself a little. Because she did have slightly more appropriate clothing.

Or shorts that weren't basically denim hot pants. But she loved the way she looked in these. The way they hugged her butt and made her legs look a little longer than they actually were.

"You'll be fine," you assure her. "This trail isn't heavily used, one of the reasons it's a favourite of mine. But it's mostly not overgrown, and also not too heavy duty. And I'll be here to help you over any tricky bits."

You've arrived at the head of the hiking trail and both climb out of the car. She's standing with her backpack slung over one shoulder, waiting for you to grab your stuff out the backseat when she hears your low whistle of appreciation followed by the whir and click of a shutter.

She turns, her head tilting in that little way she has when she's asking a silent question. Your eyes track up her lean and lightly muscled legs, lingering for a moment on the hem of her shorts before meeting her amused look. "Like what you see?" she asks with a small grin. You look at the view screen on your camera with a wolfish smile.

"Well I suppose you could say that. If it ever comes up in future, I'm voting for that to be your permanent hiking gear." You huff out a breath, shake your head a little. "Or maybe not. Because anyone walking behind you would probably end up falling over their own feet and breaking their neck!"

She laughs, shrugs a shoulder and meets your look with one that is full of meaning. "Then my plan is working."

The Look

You

You swallow, track your eyes over her from head to toe. So much for worrying that the heat from last night's flirting would have faded by now. Because she'd just ramped it right back up to where it was with that one sentence. You step close to her, reach for the loose strap of her backpack, indicating with a silent look for her to tug it up over her shoulder.

You tug gently on both, making sure the weight is evenly settled and also pulling her closer to you. You dip your head down, hear her breath catch a little as your murmur in her ear. "Then both our plans are working." You glide a hand down from the strap, over her waist and to her back before using the motion of you stepping around her and the slight pressure of your fingers to turn her towards the trail.

"We'd better get started before it gets too hot," you say. You let her go ahead of you for the first section, wanting her to experience its beauty without any obstacles and knowing that there is nothing along this part of the trail for her to worry about navigating.

Letting her go ahead also allows you to confirm your theory. That those shorts of hers stop right at the top of her thigh, revealing just a hint of the soft curve of a buttock with every step she takes. You shake your head slightly and your whistle of appreciation is silent this time.

You're glad the trail is wide enough in most places for you to walk side by side, because you are almost positive that you would be the first to fall victim to that outfit if you stayed behind her for too long. The trail widens so you step up beside her, and now it's the light citrus scent that you know comes from her and the light brushes of her arm against yours as you walk that are distracting you from the trail.

Maybe this hadn't been the best idea after all.

You shake your head to clear it, realizing that you've not said a word since you left the car and she's throwing slightly concerned glances at you. You don't want her to think that you're regretting this decision so you catch her eye, let the heat of the thoughts you'd been having while behind her blaze to life in your eyes for a moment before tamping it down gain. You watch her eyes darken in response and smile.

Or maybe it was the best idea.

Her

Although she keeps her eyes focused on the trail and the little things you're pointing out as you walk, she is as aware of every inch of you and can't help the little fantasies happening in her head. The way your shirt dips into your cleavage, hugs your breasts in a way that makes her glance at her hands, envisioning how they will spill over her fingers when she cups them.

Your long legs, pale but lightly tanned, tangled with the deeper tan of hers in rumpled sheets. Your hands spanning her waist as you explore her body, the soft pale pink of your lips closing over the dusky rose of her puckered nipples, her fingers tracing gently over the dusting of freckles on your skin, following with her mouth down over your stomach towards -- the sound of your camera startles her out of her thoughts and she realizes that she has stopped walking.

You're standing a short distance back from her, looking at her over the top of the Nikon cradled in your hands.

"I think that is going to become one of my favourite photos. Because whatever you were thinking about right then..." you look down at the screen of your camera. "That look would set the world on fire."

She smiles at you and it is slow and languorous and full of sensual promise.