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This entirely outrageous expedition resulted from Lockwood’s “Good Intentions.” It had all started when Lockwood had decided to open up to George and me in a rare moment of casual vulnerability.
“You know, my Uncle Hugo used to take me camping twice a year. He was the ultimate outdoorsman. It was his knife I used for your interview, Luce.”
George was trying to keep back a laugh due to the infrequent nature in which secrets from the Vault of Lockwood leaked, but he couldn’t quite hold back the glimmer of mirth in his eyes. “Tell me, how does one fair in the woods in a suit? Did you survive off of Choco Leibniz and Pitkins over a campfire?”
“Hilarious, George. I’ll have you know I’m quite the outdoor expert. In fact, you’re one to talk when you think Sidcup counts as the great outdoors.”
I had to admit, the picture George painted managed to be comical and cute - Cute because of the situation described, of course, not because Lockwood was cute. Well, I guess he was, but we needn’t have told him.
That’s when I stuck my foot in it and mentioned, “You know, the closest I’ve been to camping was the Aldbury Castle case.”
Lockwood and George stopped bickering long enough to acknowledge my interruption. George looked indignant, and Lockwood looked surprised. His face always did this adorable little “O” shape when he’s nonplussed.
“You’ve got to be joking? No one forced you on some stupid mandatory scouts trip as a kid? That’s so unfair! My parents said that scouts would build excellent moral fiber, so I was stuck going until I found a solution.” George complained.
“Oh, poor Georgie. His parents loved him and wanted him to be well-adjusted. No, I’ve never been camping. What solution are you referring to? Did you make your counselor question their life choices?”
“Did you scare the other kids talking about the Problem? Oh no, I bet you threw a fit over not having access to plumbing.”
“You’re both so clever. Ha-Ha. No, I staged a coup among the other kids. I’m not supposed to
talk about it. The scout leaders told my parents not to bring me back again. My dad was furious, and my mum cried the entire car ride home. It was one of my finer adolescent moments.”
“It sounds like what you two require is the Lockwood Outdoor Experience: A bit of sun and fresh air, a lot of fun, and some rest and relaxation for good measure.”
Usually, when Lockwood gets his mind set on an idea, the best path to take is to go along with it. As if the universe were on Lockwood’s side, he “found” a job-free weekend for a two-night camping trip for George, Holly, Kipps, and me. Flo had been invited but refused, saying something about “not taking a trip where there is no clear exit strategy.”
George and I were excited about the trip in different ways. I was looking forward to a holiday with my friends and a new experience. Something was pleasing to me about picturing Lockwood, hair-blowing in the wind, the handsome survivalist capable of taking on anything. George, not eager for the camping bit, did end up finding immense pleasure in spending money on gadgets he deemed to be necessary, including a new set of two-way radios, a water-purifying straw, an inflatable mattress (George said there was no way he was killing his back for the sake of team bonding), and a camping stove (He was horrified that Lockwood had intended most of our food would be cooked over a fire and mumbled something about Philistines).
Kipps was typical Kipps and pretended he was only going along with us because it was a free vacation and he had nothing better to do, but we all knew better than that. He had borrowed a car from a friend so we could make a road trip of it. Holly was her typical, overly efficient self and was working to organize packing lists for everyone. Her tidy planning and overly zealous productivity would have annoyed me once upon a time. Still, I had grown to understand Holly and her desire to tame her anxiety and fears with order and competency. She had grown on me, and I wasn’t even dreading sharing a tent with her.
Lockwood had two tents stored somewhere around the house. One was relatively small, and the other was large enough for a few people, so we decided as a group that Holly and I would take the smaller tent, and George, Kipps, and Lockwood would share the larger one.
We woke at an ungodly hour at Lockwood’s insistence. We packed our bags, loaded up an ice chest with plenty of supplies for a weekend, and took turns using the loo. I was in my room rolling up a spare duvet that had seen better days and saying goodbye to the Skull. I hadn’t thought about buying anything special for camping and realized I was shortsighted when George asked me where my sleeping bag was. It wouldn’t look pretty, but it was good enough for me.
“What kind of simpleton doesn’t think about where they intend to sleep?! Really, Lucy, if you get much airier, you’ll have as much substance as I do.” The Skull chortled from his windowsill perch.
“Sue me for not knowing what to pack for an activity I haven’t done before.”
“Didn’t Munro make you a list?”
To be honest, Holly and I were friends now, but that didn’t mean I paid attention to everything she told me. She had made me a suggested list. It was probably somewhere at the bottom of my hamper.
While looking for a snappy comeback, I heard a knock on the attic door.
“Come in!”
Lockwood came up the stairs, hands full of a rolled blue bundle of shiny fabric. Despite the teasing, we had all generously dolled out regarding Lockwood’s fashion senses. He had forgone his uniform too-small suit in favor of navy walking trousers I had never seen before, a light grey t-shirt that nicely accentuated the lithe lean muscle in his arms, and a pair of hiking boots. Lockwood was still as handsome as ever. He gave me that particular grin that belonged exclusively to me, and I felt a wooshing motion in my lower stomach. We had been alone plenty of times since crossing to the Other Side, but each occasion had me feeling as nervous as a newly minted agent hunting their first ghost.
“Saying goodbye to our friend?” Lockwood nodded a hullo at the Skull.
“Tell the Ken Doll that I think his sexy, rugged outdoorsman costume needs work.”
“Fuck off, you gnarly gnat gnasher.” I seethed.
“Ooooooo. I’ve touched a nerve. Poor Barbie doesn’t have a matching outfit and accessories.”
“Wait, how do you know about Barbie and Ken?”
Lockwood knew what the repartee between Skull and I looked like well enough to understand what was happening. Or at least he realized I wasn’t talking to him. “Did I catch you at a bad time, Luce?”
“No, you’re perfect. Ready to head out?” I blushed. My wording was a bit awkward, and the Skull cackled gleefully at my discomposure.
“Oh please, I’m an immortal being. My knowledge knows no bounds, and Holly upgraded the cable package because she’s hooked on those Lucy Worsley specials.”
I dropped my blanket bundle on the bed, strode towards the jar, fiercely twisted the lever at the top to stop further interruptions, and swiveled the jar to point out the window. It was very early, and the sky was still dark. The Skull hadn’t been wrong about my attire. I had also skipped my signature skirt and leggings for a faded pair of jeans with a blue and black checkered flannel over a black tank top. My best bet for shoes were my black lace-up boots paired with a sturdy pair of socks. I looked like a secondhand lumberjack.
I moved to grab my duvet, but Lockwood crossed the room and stopped just a couple of inches from my face. His eyes sparkled, and he smelled like Vetiver. Those facts and the early hour combined made me feel like I had just downed a shot of whisky, woozy stomach, and off balance.
“You won’t be needing that duvet this weekend. Unless you think you will want the extra padding.”
“Excuse me?” I gulped. My cheeks flamed. Why wouldn’t I need my bed? My mind went straight to the thought of sharing a space with Lockwood, but I immediately realized my stupidity. He’d be sleeping in a different tent tonight.
“I got you a little something. I thought you deserved a new sleeping bag to commemorate your first camping trip. I’m happy we get to do this together.” Lockwood lifted the bag between us suddenly, handing it to me, and then stepping back.
My heart swelled with affection at the thoughtful man in front of me. He somehow found ways to care for me in ways I couldn’t ever anticipate. I dropped my gift on the bed, stepping forward to throw my arms around his neck. My voice was a little too thick as I croaked out a thank you.
“If I knew you wanted a sleeping bag this badly, I would have bought you one a long time ago.” He chuckled warmly and squeezed me slightly closer before letting me go and turning to head down the stairs. “I hope you’ll think of me when you use it.” He took a few steps at a time on his way down.
I was thoroughly flustered upon hearing that additional comment. If Lockwood knew how often he’d been the subject of my thoughts in bed, he’d be embarrassed for me. It was true that we were closer than ever emotionally. Still, our physical intimacy hadn’t surpassed what could be generously described as sadly modest cuddling, lingering hugs, and occasionally holding hands. I could never really understand where we stood.
This time, I really went to say my goodbye to the Skull, and when I turned his jar toward me, his mouth was moving madly.
“Aaaaaaah! Lucy! I might DIE of laughter. You’re crazy about each other, and THIS is how he tries to get you in bed?!”
“You are SO RUDE.” I roughly positioned him to his preference, then grabbed my pristine new sleeping bag and shouted toward the back of the room, “Ugh! If you can call a sleeping bag a bed!” I slammed my door on the way out.
When I reached the front door, I noticed Holly standing by the vehicle’s front passenger side. George was already asleep in the back seat of the borrowed car. Kipps and Lockwood stood at the small trunk, Lockwood loading the last few things and Kipps insulting his methods.
“Lockwood, if you ding the interior, I’m doubling my fee.” Kipps threatened.
“Seeing as I’m the one who decides if I need to hire you, that’s fine,” Lockwood smirked.
Holly approached me and immediately started apologizing in that syrupy-sweet Holly manner,
“Lucy, I’m so sorry, but I hope you won’t mind terribly if I take the front seat. I tend to get horrifying carsick on long drives if I don’t sit in the front.”
“Lucy, I don’t care if you mind terribly. I don’t need anyone retching in the property of one of my few Lockwood-free friends.” Kipps hollered as he slid into the driver’s seat.
Lockwood opened the door in back on the other side of George, motioned “Ladies first.”, and then winked. Oh no. Was I hallucinating? Did I hallucinate that? He took my sleeping bag and popped it in the trunk with the other luggage. Sleep deprivation and my filthy mind had me questioning my sanity.
George was out cold. He was wearing one of those fancy sleep masks and a large set of headphones plugged into a Walkman sitting in his lap. I scootched into the middle of the back, which only made sense, given Lockwood’s height. There wasn’t much legroom, but I could at least offer him the slightly more comfortable seat.
Holly wasted no time loading an Elton John’s Greatest Hits cassette into the car stereo, and we were off. I was pretty impressed with Kipps’s knowledge of Elton John’s lyrics, even if his voice left something to be desired. Holly had a lovely voice (of course she did), and she and Kipps got lost in their own little sing-along world. George was taking up more than his fair share of the back seat, and I was pushed further into Lockwood. His warmth was lovely, and he smelled better than anyone had a right to. I must have nodded off because I opened my eyes blearily, and sunlight flooded the car. My head rested on Lockwood’s chest, his chin pressed to my forehead, and his arm wrapped around me.
George was still in his sleepy world, and if Kipps or Holly had any indication of the positioning behind them, they said nothing. I could tell they had switched from Elton John to Billy Joel by listening for a moment. Their mood had shifted with the music as the driver and navigator sat in peaceful, contemplative silence as “She’s Got a Way” played over the crackly car stereo system. As the melody played, I felt Lockwood’s warm and tender lips silently mouthing something– maybe the lyrics– into my hair.
I kept my eyes closed and inhalations quiet, feigning the sleep that had recently overcome me. Lockwood’s soft breath was so reassuring and life-affirming. How many moments had we had like this without death and destruction looming over us?! Sure, a particular element of a thrill was added when we were in sync on hot on the trail of a haunting, but this induced a new kind of shiver within me.
Since our close encounter under the feathered cape, I’d been craving his heat. Male. Protective. Hot-blooded. There was a new emotional intimacy between us if only the physical matched. The thought burned like a hot coal in the pit of my stomach. There had been no indication that he wanted anything like that from me.
“She’s got a way about her. I don’t know what it is, but I know that I can’t live without her…” I heard him whisper along to the song. I didn’t know that Lockwood was a Billy Joel fan. It was pleasant yet slightly disturbing that Kipps, Holly, and Lockwood had similar musical tastes.
Eventually, the car rolled to a stop as the music fans sang “Movin’ Out.” Lockwood was much louder in his vocalization now, heartily imitating what he thought was a New Yorker accent. He somehow managed to pull off being charming and somewhat obnoxious simultaneously. I shook George, who jolted from his oblivion, removed his headphones, and promptly smacked his head on the seatbelt dispenser.
“Careful, Karim, this car is more valuable than your cranium. Try not to bleed on the upholstery.” Kipps warned.
“As badly as I need to pee, blood isn’t the liquid you should be fretting about. Even pregnant racehorses don’t have fuller bladders.”
Our party promptly exited the vehicle to empty said bladders and stretch our legs. While we were taking care of essential items, including snacks, George came out from the restroom and asked a disgruntled petrol station clerk for a bum cigarette. George often carried a lighter on him, as it was needed for flares and the occasional light source, and promptly lit the cig. Taking one inhale in, he coughed violently and said, “That’s fucking gross.” before stomping the acquired butt into the ground. The on-break cashier who had just given him the cigarette glared judgmentally. All of us stood there silently as we took the scene in. Fair enough. As a group, we sure were a lot to deal with.
We loaded reluctantly back into the vehicle. We had less than an hour until our final destination. It was still early enough that we devoured an overpriced breakfast from our last stop - biscuits for me. Lockwood and Holly bought some of the questionable-looking fruit on offer. Lockwood judged my sweet breakfast, mentioning something about nutrition for surviving in the wilderness. If I had rolled my eyes harder, they would have popped out of my skull. We didn’t want to open our cooler until we would set up at our camping site. This breakfast would be our last genuine meal until we returned home to Portland Row.
Our final destination was a family-owned campground near the border of a national park. Lockwood mentioned a fantastic view we could find after a short hike. Our car had to be left in the gravel lot near the drive into the campgrounds. We walked a mile until we reached the site where we’d be staying.
“Worried about leaving your precious borrowed car, Kipps? Think any burglars are about to try to steal it?” George joked. He felt better now that he wasn’t trapped in a moving vehicle with the rest of us.
“The only thing I’m worried about getting stolen is my common sense, but that seemed to happen before we arrived. I am starting to think that Flo Bones had the right idea about a holiday with you lot.” Kipps replied.
“Oh please, like you didn’t enjoy our dueting? I thought we had a special thing with the Elton John and Kiki Dee song.” Holly chimed in.
Lockwood had brought one of those professional hiking-type backpack get-ups. Only a few things could dent his cool, but this might be one of those things.
“Is that a recent acquisition, or is it something you had lying around the house?” I was dying to know. In all my time knowing him, he’d never shown me this side of him, this eager nature type. I hoped it was a sign of our growing closeness.
“Oh, I still have a few tricks hidden up my sleeves.” He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but grin back, and I had the mental image of him rolling up his sleeves literally, unbuttoning his dress shirt at the wrist.
“I would love to see sometime.” I was feeling slightly bolder away from home. We were almost always at Portland Row, working the furnaces, DEPRAC, the archives, and the chippy. We had our assigned roles in our familiar places. Things were simple when we were out as Lockwood and Co., and we knew how to behave precisely without pushing boundaries. Things were already different here, and I wondered how far I could try the situation.
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
In the background, I could hear Kipps making retching noises, and I turned to tell him to shove it, but Holly was elbowing him and asking him to help her unpack the tents. She really had grown on me.
George was attempting to find the best position to set up his camp stove and radio. Somehow, that was more important to him than a shelter or anything else. Lockwood seemed unconcerned with George’s agenda as he assisted Kipps, Holly, and me in establishing where camp chairs and tarps for tents would go. Lockwood did seem to have some idea of what he was doing, as he directed us to ensure things were placed appropriately for safety reasons. His self-assured leadership was ever attractive and innately appealing.
We rolled the tents out over our carefully located tarps, constructed them entirely, and managed to complete the task with minor injury (Kipps hit his thumb with the mallet when staking the ground, but he was fine). The smaller of the two tents was a bit on the snug side. I knew Holly didn’t snore, at least, but I couldn’t help but think about how cozy sharing the space with someone else could be. It wasn’t a warm summer day, only around twenty-two degrees Celsius, so I couldn’t blame my flaming cheeks on overexertion.
I unrolled my new sleeping bag and positioned it for the evening’s rest. Holly had already unrolled her immaculate pink sleeper and even thought to bring extra padding to lay out under both beds for extra comfort. She was the picture of thoughtfulness. Thankfully, it rankled less. I wasn’t alone for long, though. Lockwood slid in through the tiny entrance to the tent and joined me on the ground.
“Hey Luce, think you’ll be snug enough tonight? Is there anything I could do to make you feel more comfortable?”
His words were considerate, but I couldn’t help but think of them as suggestive. I needed to figure out this pent-up energy issue. There might be a healthy way to resolve my problem.
“Like what?”
“I dunno... I like making sure you are taken care of.”
If only that meant in all ways.
“Holly and I should be fine tonight. At least better off than you will be with your roommates.”
“It’s only two nights. I think I’ll survive. Say, how would you feel about going on that hike I mentioned?”
Surprising no one, George was entirely uninterested in going for a hike. Kipps decided to take a kip after the drive in. He said something about how exhausting it was to concentrate on our safety and provide an excellent vocal performance. I wasn’t going to tell him that his singing was atrocious. He would be sleeping nearby for the weekend.
Holly did manage to surprise me. She was insistent on tending the campfire. It didn’t matter to her that it was only mid-morning. She was quite the pyromaniac and seemed in her element. I asked if she’d like to join the hike, but she wanted to take some time to watch the flames and journal. Holly had hidden depths.
I grabbed my water bottle and some trail mix that Holly had made with homemade granola. It wasn’t biscuits and tea, but it wasn’t bad. Lockwood had summoned his gigantic pack once more. I was pretty curious as to what his bag contained. If he wanted to lug the thing around, that was his prerogative. It literally wouldn’t be my burden to carry.
George insisted on sending us off with a radio in case we lost ourselves in the woods. They wouldn’t have great range, but George, being George, always loved an excuse to play with a new gadget, even if he offended Lockwood by suggesting we might get lost.
The trail that wound through the forested area we were visiting was a narrow dirt path. Lockwood and I moved single-file in silence. I wasn’t uneasy with the lack of conversation. The woods were gorgeous, and the sounds of nature were soothing. When hauntings and sources didn’t surround you, life was peaceful. It was strange, but I happily enjoyed this new experience as I followed Lockwood. The view would have been improved if I could see the face of the man before me.
After walking for some time, we reached a fork in the trail. Lockwood moved further into the heavily treed path without checking a map or compass. He seemed to know what direction we needed to take by heart.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
He radiated excitement, the sun breaking through the trees behind him, haloing him in a soft light. His smile wide and eyes gleaming, he said, “I used to come out here with my uncle. It was one of his favorite places in the world.”
“Did you come out here to hunt?”
“I never really enjoyed the, uh, sportsmanship of hunting animals when I had ghosts to track down. Better targets, I suppose. I never felt right about killing something living. This was our spot for contemplative thought. ‘Getting away from all the bullshit,’ as my Uncle Hugo would say. You would have liked him, I think. He was my mum’s older brother. A bachelor. It was just the two of us for a while.”
I knew Lockwood well enough to know that this was about as much information as he could dole out before needing a break. He had to reveal himself in bits and pieces. Otherwise, it was like he thought he’d crumble apart. I was rather pleased to get that large of a reveal out of him without the moment being rushed between certain death and utter ruin. He continued forward but offered his hand back to me. This day was, so far, one of the best I’d ever had.
Lockwood seemed calmer than I’d seen him after sharing pieces of his past. He held happy memories here. We were closer than ever, and I loved soaking up every detail of his life that he was willing to share with me. We walked for another mile before I attempted to start conversing again, “I thought you said this was a short hike?”
“It is a short hike. Long hikes are all-day affairs; we’ll only have walked six or seven miles when we return. You’re fit enough for a long one, though.”
Maybe I was imagining things, but that seemed to be an innuendo, or maybe I was hoping it was.
The trees began to thin, and a cool breeze greeted us as we left the wooded trail. I inhaled as I observed the scene surrounding me—a large meadow filled with bluebells as far as the field extended. My senses were flooded with the scent of wildflowers. I had never seen such a vivid shade in nature, and my breath caught in my throat. My best friend in the world had planned, cajoled, and even bribed our friends to come on this trip, and now I knew it was because he wanted to give me this gift. The thought of Lockwood’s boundless generosity nearly overwhelmed me. He squeezed my hand, still holding hands, and pulled me closer. He gazed at me through his beautiful long eyelashes, and our faces pulled toward each other magnetically.
“Baaaaaaaaah.” I jumped away from Lockwood, quickly dropping his hand as I searched for the noise source.
“I probably should have mentioned there’s a grazing pasture here on the reserve. There are sheep and llama herds that free graze here. It was always a favorite detail of mine as a kid.”
We wandered, drifted, and frolicked around the flowers, careful not to tread on the blooms. We sat, and I braided grass crowns for us, as Mary and I did as girls. I crowned him the King of the Camp, fingers lingering in his hair as I positioned it for him. I could have stayed there forever, between the company and the scenery. Again, our faces leaned closer, his crowned head in my lap. We were finally going to kiss. A fat droplet of rain landed on my nose just before the sky opened up and began pouring, ruining my ideas.
Sheets of rain began torrenting down upon our prone figures. We blinked and scrambled to get up at the shock of the cold drops begging to fall. Lockwood helped ensure my balance was secure, threw his bag on his back, and we dashed toward the trees for shelter.
“How far away from our campsite are we?” I asked, slightly panicked at the turn of the weather. I didn’t mind the rain. I lived in London, after all, but I was apprehensive about how far we were from camp.
“Well, with the nice weather at a leisurely pace, we walked for about an hour.”
“How long if we run?” Our clothes were already sopping wet, and the skies rained down with no evidence of stopping soon. This downpour was no mere drizzle.
“We really shouldn’t run. It isn’t safe. If one of us slips or trips...”
I got the picture. We caught our breath under a few branches at the edge of the meadow, deciding on our next move.
“It’s not exactly ideal, but if we head further up the path away from camp, some platform tents are set up. We can bunker down there while we wait for the weather to pass. It’s at least a hell of a lot closer.”
Given the storm, we made our way as steadily as we could. The wind howled and beat at us, and lightning began to crash through the sky. We found the area Lockwood had hoped to find. It was a much different campsite than the one we had paid for. There were platformed tents that seemed sturdier than what we had on offer for the evening. There didn’t seem to be any campers inhabiting the space, as no lights from torches or campfires were lit. Despite the quality of the clearing, it felt eerie. Three large tents each held a space aloft on its individually raised platform.
Lockwood raised the lift of the tent closest to us as I climbed the stairs to join him. We threw ourselves inside, and Lockwood tied the flap behind us before the wind could grab hold of it and let even more rain in. Like the rest of my clothes, my boots were wet all through. The summer day had been barely warm before the rain began, and now the air was downright chilly, especially considering our soaked-to-the-skin state. As I removed my boots and socks, Lockwood set down his hiking pack and began to do the same. We set our shoes in the front corner of the tent. The space was large and airy compared to Lockwood’s tents.
We sat there momentarily, just getting ahold of ourselves after a rough scramble to find safety. I was relieved that this was an area Lockwood was familiar enough with that he remembered the trail to get us here. He was always the one to save the day. He dug around in his pack and grabbed the radio. The signal was weak, but we could get out that we were safe but stuck, far from their location, and we wouldn’t be able to return until the storm calmed. Since Kipps had to leave his loaned car behind, and then we hiked to our campground, he couldn’t retrieve us either, especially considering he no longer had Lockwood to navigate the trails.
We both stood dripping silently, aware that we were stranded alone. I wondered how long the rain might continue. There wasn’t supposed to be a storm, to begin with. I was rather peeved with myself for not preparing better for the hike. I had left all of my packed necessities back at the camp, and Lockwood and I had already shared my water and granola. I removed my flannel.
The weight of it was uncomfortable and soggy.
Lockwood was digging in his bag again. He brought an electric lamp and set it on a hook at the tent’s peak. The small space was illuminated with our lump shadows. “Luckily, my kit here is waterproof, so that’s something. I didn’t get to share it with you earlier; we got interrupted by the rain, but I packed a hearty picnic lunch here.” His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze me. He pulled out a small bottle of cider, a loaf of bread, a few apples, a bar of Swiss chocolate, jerky, a thermos of tea, and biscuits.
We ate companionably, though soggy and uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but let my signature Carlyle grin reign free. Despite the circumstances, I was still enjoying the day. I was attempting to hide my shivers when Lockwood cleared his throat. “It might let up for a while. It’s probably not good to sit here in freezing wet clothes, and seeing as we can’t light a fire...” He let his sentence hang like he couldn’t bring himself to make the suggestion we both knew he was alluding to.
“Well, let’s get on with it. No sense in beating around the bush. We’re adults.” I might need to work on carrying a more sexy demeanor if I ever want him to take me seriously, but I wasn’t trying to put on an act in front of the person who knew me best. There wasn’t anything seductive about how I popped the button on my jeans that was pasted to my skin. I had to peel them off in a jumpy struggle, trying vainly to ensure my pants didn’t come along with them. I didn’t feel maidenly about removing my tanktop itself. Still, I was completely conscious that my sports bra clung heavily to me, as wet and as miserable as the rest of me, and my nipples were attempting to burst through the wretched fabric.
Lockwood, calm and composed as ever, removed his shirt and walking trousers. I had seen him in swim trunks before, and this really was similar to that. The only difference was the thinner fabric. A much lighter material. Nearly transparent, considering how wet we were.
“I have a sleeping bag in here. You should take it and keep warm.”
I wondered if he meant to keep warm or covered, but I accepted it from him gratefully, unzipped it, and covered my top half. Seeing as I had the option without complete and total scandal, I removed my sports bra and laid it out on the floor with my other things. I was down to my royal blue briefs. They were technically for boys, but they were cheaper than women’s pants by far and were sensible for action. It was true I might have more rear than the typical purchaser, but they looked fine to me.
The tent was empty besides our items and the tarp beneath us. I settled on the floor, keeping as much fabric around me as possible. I was already feeling slightly warmer since abandoning my soggy garments. Lockwood still stood, shifting his weight side to side, unsure of what to do with himself. He seemed cold, too. The air between us was the most strained it had been all day.
“If you’re cold, this isn’t too far off from sharing a spirit cape.” I ventured awkwardly.
“Circumstances are slightly different, Luce...”
“Fine, have it your way, be uncomfortable.”
Lockwood threw me a look that I was struggling to decipher. It seemed like he was a cross of perplexed and annoyed. He would have gotten a good peek at my breasts had he not been stiff-necked and determined to avoid looking in my direction. I wasn’t sure what Lockwood wanted me to do in this situation, but he moved to the floor, and I lifted the corner of the sleeping bag to let him under.
“Your neck will break if you keep doing that.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable. This is my normal posture.”
I snorted. It wasn’t ladylike, but nothing about my current position was, so acting or being treated with such courtesy was a bit laughable. Respect is all well and good, but some sights couldn’t be avoided in our current condition. It’s not as if I were trying to excuse getting a look in at a naked Lockwood. I was just being more pragmatic about the situation than Lockwood, clearly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, sit back-to-back with me if you are so worried about being blinded by my pale and hideous flesh.” I turned my back to him so we were no longer side-to-side. My bare shoulders met the skin on his back, and I adjusted the blanket/bag as best as possible for maximum warmth.
“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.
I wasn’t in the mood for a reprimand, and I didn’t need any pity from Lockwood.
“Well, pretty isn’t my profession.” My mother had always been quick to remind me that I was the plainest looking of all my sisters. She would tell me it was a great save that I had talent since I’d never get chosen for my looks.
“So it’s a hobby?”
I had no idea what to say to that. We sat there in a silence that was more painful than the time Lockwood complimented me on my– his towel wrapped around me after that shower long ago. I didn’t know what to say then, either.
“Er, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Lockwood shifted his weight a little further from me, and we were still touching, but just.
“The only thing that’s uncomfortable for me is the thought of my legs falling asleep in this position while we wait for the storm to stop.” I lifted myself to pull my knees under me and arched my back into a stretch. The blades of my shoulders kissed against his upper back as I overextended slightly. Lockwood let out a soft hiss. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” His voice was oddly strained. The chill and the rain were making his voice froggy, likely.
“Are you sure? Is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been so kind to me arranging this holiday and all. We can’t control the weather, but everything else has been terrific.”
The rain torrented down, making a cacophony against the tent’s roof. Our huddled shape was now casting one giant shadow. The backs of our heads met. How strange it was to be closer to Lockwood than ever and not understand where he was. We were usually so in tune with each other. Sometimes, I worried he could read my mind. If he could read it right now, what would he think?
“Is there something you’re offering?” I was literally on my knees, nearly naked with Lockwood, and he spoke in phrases that could be viewed as an insinuation. His voice was still lower and raspier than I was used to.
“Is there something you need from me?”. Again, we sat speechless, quietly touching. Lockwood graciously ignored my question. We had been dancing circles around each other with our discourse all day. It was taking a toll on me. I had taken things too far. I was going to break and potentially ruin our friendship.
“What do you think the others are doing right now?”
“George is bemoaning the fact that he can’t use his cook stove inside a tent. I bet he, Holly, and Kipps are holed up together in the big tent. Kipps and Holly are probably singing show tunes by now. Poor George.”
“I have a deck of cards if you want to play a game.”
“Strip poker?” I joked. If it weren’t for the thunder, you could have heard crickets at my joke. “No, thanks, though. I have to admit, Kipps might have had a good idea for once. I wish I’d have taken a nap after making camp.”
“You didn’t get enough sleep on the drive here?” Lockwood teased.
“I’ll have you know I barely slept at all last night. I was too excited to go on holiday and try camping. It’s stupid.” I admitted sheepishly.
“You don’t look like you missed out on any beauty sleep, but if you’d like to go ahead and rest, I can zip the sleeping bag back up for you.”
“And you’re just going to sit in the cold tent on the floor in your knickers? If you zip the bed back up, you should at least share it with me. You look pretty tired, and I would guess you didn’t sleep on the drive.”
The moment came when he agreed, and I rose from my knees to a standing position, dropping the blanket behind me. I was nearly completely naked in front of Lockwood for the first time. I had thought I wouldn’t be worried about the nudity, but my nipples were so hard and achy. My skin was flushed. He looked up at me from the ground through thick lashes, raking his brown eyes up my body, drinking me in this time. Once our eyes connected, his gaze darted away, and he zipped the sleeping bag back up.
“Ladies first,” he offered. I took the bedding from him. I couldn’t help myself from stealing a look while I shimmied myself into the opening. Lockwood’s arms were long and lean but corded with muscles that made me aware that his strength could be used for more than just wielding a rapier. He was tall and alluring. I wouldn’t mind sharing this snug sleeping bag.
Lockwood leaned over me, nearly perfectly naked, and slid in tight behind me. He suddenly attempted to turn himself to face the opposite direction, but the cramped space didn’t allow for easy movement, and I could feel the press of something warm and stiff against my ass. I tried to cool my reaction to his presence. I worried that my traitorous body would give me away. I was growing wet at the hard promise behind me.
“Sorry, let me just-” and he completed his shift to face away from me. I was reading this wrong. My face was hot with embarrassment, and I bit my lip to avoid crying. The rest of my body was still wracked with hormones insisting physical chemistry existed, even though I knew things between us to be one-sided. My only comfort was that I was no longer cold, and I was protected from the sheets of rain hammering down outside.
I must have fallen asleep at some point. The sleeping bag wasn’t a feather mattress, but I slept soundly enough to be slightly disoriented when I stirred. I could still hear thunder crashing and a rapid staccato of droplets coming down. I slowly realized that I had turned over at some point during my nap. One of my arms was raised and pillowed my head, curled around the top of a head of beautiful dark hair. My breasts were pressed against the curves of his shoulder blades, and my other arm was draped over his waist. My hand was firmly inside the opening of his boxers, palming Lockwood’s erect cock.
Panic rocketed through me. How long had we been in this position? Was he sleeping? I would have done anything to know the answer to either of these questions. I gently loosened my fingers, hoping that if he were asleep, the pressure change wouldn’t wake him, when he let out a long labored breath, followed by a whispered “Oh, fuck.” It was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard in my life. His hips rolled forward further into my grip, and my body automatically reacted as if she had a mind of her own. My hips rocked forward into him, mirroring his motion. A soft hum left my throat before I could stop it, signaling my arousal.
“Luce?” Lockwood whispered hoarsely. He sounded terrified. I scrambled to adjust myself away from him, afraid I had destroyed the bond we’d built between us. There was a limited amount of space that I could move, though, and I just managed to heave my pebbled nipples toward his head in my attempt to flip over. My thighs slid together, slick with a need that had accumulated as we held each other during our nap.
By the time I had switched sides, he was covering my retreat, rolling to face my back. We were still pressed skin to skin, and his erection hadn’t ebbed a bit. As if by a force of physics, his cock glided straight between my flooded thighs, right where it met the curve of my swollen lips, coating the knickers covering them.
“Lucy!” Lockwood ground out with great strain in his tone. There wasn’t a possibility his dick wasn’t coated in my juices. I was flooded completely, sticky-thighed, and pulsing hot.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shame overcoming me for being so desperate for my boss, landlord, and best friend. A frisson of panic shot through me when he laughed in response. My hips were eager to grind into the solid presence behind me. I was out of my mind with lust, straining to hold my body still.
“You’re apologizing to me?” Why was he confused about this? I had been gripping his most intimate part without any indication of consent, even if I was asleep. That had to be difficult for him.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve never forced my hand down an unwilling man’s pants before, but I assume that assault - even accidental- probably warrants an apology at minimum.” I tried to will my hormones to cool, but my blood was hot, and he was hard and resting heatedly in the crook of curves between my hips. I could have sworn I felt his pulse beat there inside my thighs.
“Don’t. Please. This whole situation is fucked up enough without you telling me you’re sorry you touched me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m hardly unaffected by the attention.”
“You’re a man. Understandably, you would react in this situation.”
Lockwood raised a large hand to my shoulder and turned me to face him, chest to chest. I was breathing hard, and my ever-eager nipples pushed into him. Despite the change of position, he was still free from his briefs, wedged so close to where I wanted him. My knickers were sopping. His naked flesh there was slick with my need for him. His fingers delicately traced up my shoulder, along my collarbone, up my neck, and down to the point of my chin. He held my face and looked directly into my eyes. I couldn’t breathe.
“I’d always thought if we were going to share a bed, I’d have at least kissed you first. I’ve fantasized about a moment with you like this a thousand times, at least, but you never apologize for touching me or responding to my touch in any of those dreams.”
“What does fantasy me do?’ I tilted my lips closer to his, allowing him to pull back if he chose, but I wanted to see where this might go. I bravely held his gaze, determined not to back down, and ran my index finger along the edge of his knickers, scraping lightly across his lower abdomen with my fingernail.
I had pictured kissing Lockwood for the first time in a million different ways. Some of these scenarios were sweet and gentle, and others were passionate and filled with declarations of love. None of them involved us bare-bodied, desperately rutting into each other, but Lockwood never did anything by halves, thank fuck. Our lips crashed, and we clung desperately to each other. Neither of us seemed able to hold back from giving into this electrical night charging through us.
Lockwood moved his hands to my breasts, thumbing at each nipple. He groaned into my mouth, and I took the opportunity to move my tongue to join with his. My hands skimmed up and down his sides and then back across the bottom of his torso, following the V-shaped lines dipping down to the area holding my most urgent interest. He pulled away from my mouth momentarily.
“Fantasy You pales in comparison to Real You, but first, she’s usually begging me to touch her.”
“Where?” I took one of his long ring hands and guided it to the front of my pants.
“Here- Wait, are these for boys?” His eyebrows shot up, and he grinned widely at me. He used the front opening to let his fingers reach me. “You know, this works for me.” He moved to kiss me deeply, using two fingers to paint my arousal up and down my folds. I was significantly worked up and ready for much more, praying like hell this wasn’t all a dream.
“Can we take these off? We already agreed we shouldn’t be wearing wet things.” I asked, arching a brow at him.
“You’re a genius, Luce.” We made quick work of removing the last vestiges of our clothing. Nothing separated us.
“You said ‘first’ earlier. What comes second in your fantasies?”
“Watching you fall apart for me.”
“You’d better get to work, then.” I rocked my hips forward into him, and a delicious noise stuttered from the back of his throat, making his Adam’s apple bob attractively. I wanted to run my tongue up it, so I did. “By the way, I don’t know about Fantasy Me, but Real Me is clean and has reliable birth control.”
“Fuck.” He pulled me flat to him and rolled on his back so I lay atop him, legs straddled on either side. He had cruelly maneuvered me so my cunt lay just out of reach of the head of his cock, moving his hands to grip my ass cheeks firmly, one in each palm.
“Actually, never mind, you can play with my pussy as often as you’d like in the future, but if you want me to live that long, I need you inside of me before my head explodes.” I must have surprised him with my straightforwardness because his grip slackened, giving me enough range to slide myself down, so he sheathed me entirely.
“Lucy!” He moaned, eyes shut so tightly, beautiful and breathing hard. Mine at this moment. I squeezed my innermost muscles tight around him, owning him wholly with my actions.
I rode him slowly. We didn’t have ample space to work with, and he was larger than I was prepared for, so hot and intensely hard. I moved back, guiding him with me so he sat up, still ensconced in our sleeping bag. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, worshiping it with his tongue. I’d never felt a more intense pleasure in my life when he then took a finger and thumb to my clit, gently rolling it back and forth as he mouthed at my breasts.
“LOCKWOOD!” My toes curled, and my walls clamped tightly around him. My orgasm electrocuted me with its intensity. He kept ahold of me as I fell apart in his arms, my spasming cunt sending him into a shattering orgasm of his own. “Fuck, Luce. I’m coming inside of you.”
“Give it to me. I need it.” I kissed him with every feeling held for him in my heart. We lay there languorously, satiated and blissful. I didn’t know if he knew how much I loved him, but I couldn’t ever deny it to myself after today.
“I think I like camping.” I looked at him and gave him a signature Carlyle Grin, determined to be myself around him even after sex.
“It’s just too bad you didn’t get to use your new sleeping bag.” He smiled at me, the special smile that was just for me.
“Maybe you can help me break it in,” I suggested. He kissed me deeply, and I looked forward to things to come. The pattering of the rain was slower now, and my gut told me we would leave this private haven soon