Nancy's POV
By the time the truck crunched into our campsite, the sun was hanging low, casting long, bruised shadows through the towering pines.
In the back, Mom stirred with a groan. "I just need to sit for a minute. Can you two handle the setup? I'm really not feeling great."
Jacob was out of the driver's seat before the words fully registered in my brain. His brow furrowed with concern as he closed the distance, effortlessly relieving her of a heavy duffel bag.
"Don't push yourself, Ethlyn. I've got camp duty covered," he assured her.
A sharp pang of guilt pierced through my lust-addled brain. I should have noticed just how awful she was feeling instead of ogling my stepfather. "I'm sorry, Mom. Feel better," I muttered.
Jacob caught my eye, shooting me a subtle, reassuring nod that silently promised, I've got this. He gently guided her over to the wooden picnic table, draping a thick fleece blanket snugly around her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. She settled in, nursing a water bottle, leaving Jacob and me to unload the bed of the truck.
We dragged the canvas tent bag into the clearing and got to work. The ground was rocky and uneven, forcing us to crouch shoulder-to-shoulder to hammer in the stakes.
As I reached blindly for the next metal peg, my hand slipped, brushing flush against the warm, tight skin of his lower abdomen. His muscles gave a violent jerk beneath my palm, and the sheer heat radiating off him felt like a brand against my skin.
"Sorry," I whispered, though my hand lingered a second too long.
Jacob's voice remained calm, almost dangerously gentle. "It's not a big deal, kiddo. Here, let me show you how to thread these poles so the fiberglass doesn't snap."
Of course it's a big deal for me.
He shifted around behind me. One second I was kneeling in the dirt, and the next, his arms were boxing me in from both sides. His broad chest pressed flush against my spine as his larger hands covered mine to guide them.
The pole slid through my fingers exactly how he directed, but my brain completely short-circuited. All I could focus on was the solid, unyielding wall of his body, the deep, slow rhythm of his chest expanding against my back, and the warm, deliberate puff of his breath teasing the shell of my ear when he spoke.
"Keep your wrists loose… yeah, just like that. Slide it through nice and slow." His mouth was mere inches from my ear, using the exact same patient tone he’d used years ago when teaching me to ride a two-wheeler.
Only now, it made my nipples ache and my pussy clench so ruthlessly I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from whimpering. His hips were hovering a hairsbreadth from my ass. If I pushed back even a fraction of an inch, I knew I’d feel exactly how thick he was pressing against his fly. The thought alone sent a fresh, heavy rush of wetness soaking into my panties.
My breathing turned shallow and erratic, my nerve endings sparking everywhere he made contact. Unable to take it another second, I scrambled up, hastily brushed the pine needles off my knees, and spun around to grab the spare tent from our pile.
But there was no spare tent.
Panic flared hot in my chest. "Wait, where is—"
"Let me guess," Jacob drawled, stepping right into my personal space. His voice carried a distinct, infuriatingly teasing lilt. "You left it sitting on the front porch. Right next to your favorite sunglasses and that hydro-flask you always manage to lose?"
I whirled back around to face him. Instead of his usual dependable, problem-solving demeanor, his lips were curved into a thoroughly wicked smirk. He was getting a kick out of my momentary panic.
"Fuck. Jacob..." I let out a breathless, exasperated laugh. Closing the last sliver of distance between us, I instinctively thumped a playful fist against his granite chest. "You're terrible," I muttered, looking up at him with helpless amusement.
"Nancy!" Mom's voice cracked like a whip through the clearing.