AN: I'm gonna do a little switcharoo with the POVs in this fic. Let's try Daryl on for size, shall we? Don't forget this is AU-Daryl Dixon, so some things that aren't necessarily canon might pop up. Oh, and there's a Boondock Saints reference in here. Lemme know if you can pick it out?

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.

"Yo, Birthday Boy—have y'self a good time?" Merle's rasp of a voice was the first thing I heard when I walked through the door. He'd been living with me for about six months, and wasn't leaving any time soon. My party the night before was his way of making up rent.

"Yep," I answered, opening the fridge for a beer. There was one left from the case Merle had bought. I popped the bottle open and walked into the dimly lit living room, the early morning sun just streaming through the blinds. Merle sat drinking and smoking, and watching some fishing show. If you knew him or not, you could feel the tension rolling off of him; but it was always that way with him, and I'd learned to cope through the years.

The second I pulled out of The Top's parking lot the night before, with Sarah in my truck and Merle throwing a fit in my rearview mirror, I knew that he'd be waiting for me when I got home; on top of the fucking eight ball he'd kept mostly to himself, he was pissed I'd left him behind.

"That whore give you my money's worth?" he asked, swinging a glance in my general direction, but never really focusing.

I bit my tongue like I always did—had to choose each word carefully, and even then I couldn't guarantee he wouldn't explode. I didn't like the way he talked about Sarah the night before when he came up with the idea to take her into a private room, and I still didn't like it. But I hedged his question instead of taking him head on.

"She's sweet," I answered, taking a sip of my beer and a seat on the couch. I untied my boots and kicked them to the side. We sat quiet for a few minutes, while Merle stared at the TV and played with his lighter. Just when I thought he was going to let it go, he spoke again.

"Sweet, huh?" he slurred, turning his unfocused gaze and sneer back on me. "You taste that pussy?" I could tell right then, if I kept up any part of the conversation, I wasn't getting out of there without some bullshit going down, so I decided to head to my room. I was tired anyway.

I nodded in answer to his question just to chill him out before getting up and heading down the hall. "I'ma get some sleep," I said, taking my beer with me. "Thanks again for last night, bro." Merle mumbled something incoherent as I closed my bedroom door.

I tossed my phone on my bedside table and shucked my clothes until I was down to my underwear, then collapsed on the bed. I was fucking beat. That girl had taken it out of me, no two ways about it. She gave as good as she got, too. Damn.

I looked at my phone, laying there, like the plain, practical thing it was, and thought about the pictures I'd taken of Sarah the night before. I couldn't believe she let me; she liked it, even. Shit, she was kinky as fuck, and I wasn't even paying her for that part.

She was fucking sexy as Hell—like real sexy, not made-up, painted on, acrylic nails, and fake tits. She was smart, too, but not a bitch about any of the good things about her, like so many girls could be. I could tell the second she walked out on stage that she'd be a hot fuck, too, just by the way she moved and held her head high. Girls who looked like her didn't fake coming on a cock; they loved every minute of it. And it'd been way too long since I'd had an ass that sweet and true.

Merle had seen me watching her and he started in on me right away. Then she came over and talked to us—all pretty smiles, and perfect ass and tits, and eyes that told me she wasn't nobody's fool. Merle did a few more lines, and the next thing I knew he was talking about a gang bang. I told him I didn't want Buck and Carson, the two guys that were there with us, in on my action. Merle gave me more shit about being a princess on my birthday and not sharing my toys, but I knew what I wanted, and I wanted her ass all to myself.

By the time we'd made our way back to the private room, I could smell her, she was so wound up and wet and I hadn't even started working on her yet. I fucking loved that smell. When she climbed into my lap, I could feel how hot and wet she was, and as much as I hate those fucking pet names, I knew she meant it when she called me "baby." Then she came in my lap and I hadn't even touched her. All I could think about was how hard and loud she'd come once I got my dick inside her, and I almost came in my fucking pants.

She'd made a point to tell me once we'd left The Top that she was off the clock, and she couldn't wait to get me alone. I almost pulled over to the side of the road and fucked her in the cab of my truck, but I wanted her on that granite countertop in the kitchen of that asshole client. I wanted to fuck her on every surface in his house, but I knew we wouldn't have time for all that. As long as I got her ass that night, I had time for more later. And, damn, did I get her ass... She was begging for it.

After we'd left the bar, she told me her real name, and that she'd just moved to Gainesville from Atlanta—that she was living with her cousin. She didn't twitch and squirm around when she talked like so many girls her age did. She used simple words—no frills and no airs. She didn't fuck with the radio or twist her hair or ask me my mama's name. And the look on her face when she saw my scars… most girls freak, but Sarah just traced them with one of her nice, little fingers, kissed them, then looked up and asked me where they came from. I told her it was just a fucking bar fight, and she was satisfied with that answer, I guessed.

I grabbed my phone from the table and started scrolling through the pictures. She looked so good, buck naked, wet from the shower, no makeup, smiling up at me like she had a secret.

I reached down and grabbed my dick; I was getting hard again remembering the way she felt and tasted and how she sucked my cock. I thought about her standing in front of me in that shower while I sat on the side of the tub, her leg thrown over my shoulder, and her back against the wall, with my face buried in her pussy. She'd already come three times before that—fuck, she came easy—but I wanted her to come again and again and a-fucking-gain.

We used some of that asshole's ritzy shower gel, and got nice and clean before I sat down and licked her soft and slow. I'd worked her ass so hard on the counter in the kitchen, and she'd fucking taken it like a damn trooper. That girl was built to last, like a brick house, and all natural—curves everywhere, but so small; my fingers and thumbs touched when I wrapped them around her waist.

She slid the one foot she had on the floor of the tub to the corner to brace herself, but I told her I had her, and she trusted me. I leaned into her, cupping that fine, fine ass in my hands, and opening up her pretty pussy with just my thumbs and my mouth. She made all kinds of sounds, tried gripping the wall behind her, then settled her hands in my wet hair. She came in my mouth with a sweet, little whimper, instead of calling me a son of a bitch like she had earlier, when I was fucking her pussy with my fingers. She came a different way every time.

I dropped my phone next to me on the bed, remembering how she dropped to her knees between my legs, her face flushed and water dripping from her long, blonde hair. She looked up at me with those sleepy, green eyes and took my cock in her mouth then down her throat, sucked and stroked and… the sounds she made—fuck.

I shut my eyes tight, coming on my own hand and seeing in my mind how I came on her perfect fucking tits, as the water ran cold.

Sarah

I crept into the house, carrying my boots and my bag just as the sun was coming up. I'd only been staying with Haley and her boyfriend Justin for a few weeks, but it was long enough for me to be used to the fact that he was always awake before I was.

I ducked into the guest room and dropped my stuff on the floor before changing out of the clothes I'd worn on my date with Daryl. I called it a date in my head because I didn't know what else to call it officially—other than mind-blowing.

Not only did he have a big, hard cock and know exactly what to do with it, but there was this constant energy between us that kept me right on the edge. I couldn't get enough of him in that short time. When he dropped me off at the club so I could get my car, he grabbed my phone and called his own number before tossing it back in my bag without a word. I guessed he couldn't get enough either.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I shuffled down the hall to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth. I heard movement from Haley's and Justin's room. I wanted to get cleaned up and into the kitchen to make coffee for Justin. They'd been way beyond nice and accommodating, so I tried to do everything I could to repay them.

As the coffee brewed, I pulled eggs and butter from the fridge. Justin came around the corner and looked surprised. "Mornin'," he mumbled. "What're you up to s'early?"

"Had a late night," I replied. "Just got in, started coffee, and makin' some eggs. Ya want some?"

Justin bobbed his head and crossed the room for a cup to pour himself some coffee. "Thank ya, darlin'." He kissed my cheek before scooping up the newspaper I'd brought in with me just a few minutes before.

"Scrambled sound good to you?" I asked, and Justin nodded, sipping his coffee and already seeming to be into his paper. He shook a cigarette from the pack on the kitchen island, and I suddenly wondered if he knew Daryl Dixon. There was a little voice inside my head, though, that told me to be careful with how much I said. "Hey, you know Merle and Daryl Dixon?" I tried to be sly.

Justin looked at me with a quirked brow, a half-lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He paused and watched me for a second before snorting, nodding reluctantly, then fully lighting his Marlboro. "Why d'ya ask? They causin' trouble again?"

I turned back to my eggs and shook my head. "No trouble—just wonderin'… They were in last night. It was Daryl's birthday."

"Yeah, well…" Justin took a deep drag from his cigarette. "You best watch yourself around them Dixons, ya hear?"

I nodded and shivered, thinking about watching Daryl watch me—about him touching me and fucking me into his client's granite counter. Those were details I definitely wasn't sharing with Justin.

"Toast?" I asked, reaching for the bread from the breadbox.

"Yeah," Justin replied. "We got juice, too?"

I peeked into the refrigerator. "Grapefruit—that good?"

Justin shrugged. "It'll do."

"Mornin', y'all," Haley's bright voice called as she entered the kitchen. "What on earth has gotten into you, girl?" She wrapped her arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. She hugged me with such enthusiasm, jolting my tired and slowly stiffening muscles, it reminded me again of just a few hours before.

"Just wanted to do somethin' nice for y'all," I replied, bumping my hip into hers as she reached for a mug and filled it with coffee.

"But it's so early, darlin', ain't you tired?" She joined Justin at the kitchen island and kissed him on the head as he handed her a section of the paper. "How was last night, anyway? D'ya make some friends? That Jessie Dell's a sweetheart; you'll have fun with her."

I was used to Haley firing off multiple questions at once. She was high-energy and engaging, and it was usually fun—especially when we were kids—she was the life of the party, and she always knew how to make a person feel interesting. At the moment, though, I was feeling put on the spot. I wanted to keep last night all to myself, but that was only because I hadn't processed everything yet. I could still smell Daryl on my skin—still feel him inside me. He'd made a lasting impression, that was for sure, but there were other things I could tell her about the night before.

"I'm tired, yeah, but it was a really good night," I answered honestly. "Jessie Dell's a sweetie, for sure. I like all the girls."

We chatted over our eggs and toast until Justin had to fill his travel mug to leave for the day. He'd been mostly quiet since Haley took over the conversation, but as he walked out the door, he looked me in the eye. ""Member what I said about them Dixons. If ya don't wanna listen to me, ask your cousin here." Then he kissed a stunned Haley goodbye and walked out the door.

Haley quietly blinked twice, and I tried to busy myself with the dishes. "Wanna tell me what that was about?" she asked, but I kept working on the dishes. "Sarah Jane, you look at me when I'm talkin' to you."

I turned my head over my shoulder and shot her a quick glance and a smile before refocusing on the dishes. "It was nothin'. I just asked Justin this mornin' if he knew 'em, that's all. They came in last night." I shrugged it off, but I could feel Haley shooting daggers at my back. I knew I couldn't fool her, but I needed some time to sort out what had happened with Daryl.

Haley was at my side, then, looking me over. She reached out and brushed her thumb over my neck where it met my shoulder, chewing furiously on her bottom lip. "Which one of 'em gave ya that?" She looked worried.

"What?" I asked, dropping the pan I'd used for the eggs into the soapy water and retreating to the bathroom with Haley hot on my heels.

"Please, please tell me you did not sleep with Merle or Daryl Dixon," Haley called after me. "Please."

I flipped the light switch and lunged toward the mirror, inspecting my neck. "Shit," I cursed, pulling at the skin and spinning around to see if he'd left any more marks in visible places. Sure enough, Daryl had left three sizable hickies around my neck and shoulders—and God only knows where else.

"Sarah!" Haley practically shouted for my attention.

"I did not sleep with Merle or Daryl Dixon," I said, sighing and looking into the sink for answers. I could cover the marks with makeup at work, but what was I supposed to do when I had to go to the grocery store—look like a victim of a vampire attack? It was summertime in Georgia; I couldn't wear a turtleneck or a scarf.

"Look. At. Me." Haley strongly enunciated each word. I looked up at her in the mirror, hoping that the conduit of her reflection would somehow lessen the intensity of what she was sure to say. "Don't be a smartass," she continued. "Did you have sex with either of those men?"

I stared at her for three silent breaths before she rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "Did none of those girls tell you? What the hell, Sarah Jane? I know Jessie Dell'd tell you what was up!"

I rolled my own eyes and turned to leave the bathroom, but Haley followed me into the guest room. "Yes," I huffed, nervously tidying things in my room that didn't really need tidying. "Jessie told me to be careful, but that's all she said. And then she came in the Champagne Room with us, so… I just don't see what the big deal is." I took to the basket of clean laundry to fold, as Haley stared at me from the doorway, holding her forehead in her hand like her brains might fall out.

"The big deal is… those men are bad news, Sarah Jane." Her voice was soft, and her face was serious. "Bad, bad news."

Madison and Cheri had both talked or acted about Daryl like he was a prize to be had. Jessie Dell cautioned me, but she eventually gave in, and none of them seemed to be able to give me any real reason why I shouldn't go with my gut and have a good time with him. The quiet nagging voice in the back of my mind was finally screaming from the tone and sadness in Haley's simple words.

I slowly folded one last T-shirt and laid it on the bed, then sat and asked Haley to join me.

"It was Daryl's birthday," I said, watching as she settled beside me, then reached out for my hand. "I don't… I don't know what to say. I just… I wanted him." Haley squeezed my hand in hers, studying me closely, quietly listening. "And, my God, Haley, he's… he felt so good and so right—I didn't think there was anythin' wrong with it."

It had been a very long time since I'd had sex of any kind for fun or pleasure, let alone enjoyed the intensity I'd had with Daryl. After he took my ass so hard on the countertop in the kitchen, he undressed me the rest of the way, took me up to the master bedroom for a shower, and went down on me with an unhurried tenderness that blew my mind.

"Sarah…" Haley caught my eye again, as I was starting to clearly lose focus on our conversation, thinking about how good Daryl had been to me. "Sarah, he…" She closed her eyes and shook her head, then looked me straight in the eye again. "Daryl Dixon killed a man, Sarah Jane."

I blinked, and the warm, fluid vibration that had taken up residence deep in my belly from the first second I saw Daryl Dixon the night before, was suddenly frozen in place.

Minutes later, Haley and I had sat back down at the kitchen island after she rummaged through one of the drawers and produced a newspaper clipping. The thing was light as a feather, but felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I read.

Man Charged with Involuntary Manslaughter in Bar Fight Death of Gainesville Man

Police say Daryl James Dixon of Westside, punched Zeke Reynolds, who fell and hit his head on the cement at a Gainesville bar and died three days later.

A Westside man has been charged in the death of a Gainesville man after a bar fight in Gainesville, according to police.

Officials charged Daryl James Dixon, 35, with involuntary manslaughter, a 10-year felony, in Northern District Court at 10 a.m. Friday, according to Gainesville Police. Dixon was being housed at Hall County Jail on a parole detainer from Gainesville Parole, police said. He is now being held on a $100,000 bond, according to police. His court date is at 8:30 a.m. November 1 at 52-2 District Court in Gainesville.

Police responded to a call from The Top in Gainesville for an assault complaint on Friday, October 12. Officers arrived and found 43-year-old Zeke Reynolds of Gainesville, lying unconscious outside the bar, according to a press release from Gainesville police.

Rescue crews transported the victim to Northeast Georgia Medical Center, where he never regained consciousness and was pronounced dead on Monday, according to police.

Police say Dixon punched the victim in the face during an altercation, causing Reynolds to fall backward and slam his head on the cement, resulting in a severe brain injury.

Fox 5 News Gainesville reported that witnesses said Dixon was looking out for his older brother during an argument on the bar patio, and that Reynolds pulled a knife on them.

"Merle Dixon ain't my favorite person in the world, but Daryl's a good guy. He was just defending hisself and his brother," The Top owner Beau LeRue told Fox 5 in the article.

Dixon stayed at the scene until Gainesville Police arrived and arrested him. He has a prior record for one simple assault charge and disturbing the peace.

Daryl

"Well, we just had ourselves two good nights in a row, huh?" I knew that voice, it belonged to that little redhead, and she was yammering away as the back door to the club opened. "This economy's been eatin' up our tips."

I felt like a dick for shoving that little girl off my lap like I had a few months before, but she was doing that circus sideshow bullshit so many bitches try, wanting to see my scars and hear the whole story. Not a lot happens in this town, so bar fights—especially ones that end in death—are a big deal.

"Maybe things're looking up," Sarah replied.

Then I saw them come around the corner, the little redhead talking a mile-a-minute with her hands and Sarah smiling and nodding her head, listening while she dug through her bag.

I hopped down off the open tailgate of my truck where I was waiting for her and they both looked my way. The little redhead stopped in her tracks, and Sarah slowed her pace, looking me up and down. Her smile changed, too—like she was remembering something. Maybe she was remembering the night before like I'd been playing it in my head all fucking day.

"Hey, Daryl," the little redhead called out. I nodded in answer, but I kept my eyes on Sarah, and Sarah kept her eyes on me.

"What're you doin' here?" Sarah asked, that little smile from the pictures playing on her face. She was definitely thinking about the night before.

I shrugged then reached in my shirt pocket for my cigarettes. I wasn't going to say what I was thinking right in front of Sarah's friend. I knew that girl would have every word out of my mouth all over town before sunup if she could. Not that I gave a shit what anybody thought of me, but I didn't need people knowing my business with Sarah.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Madison, okay?" Sarah said, then turned back to look at me. Her friend waited for a few seconds before squeezing Sarah's hand and mumbling something to her, then walking away.

When Madison was finally out of earshot, I tossed my cigarette away and walked toward Sarah. "Gotta work tomorrow night?" Sarah nodded and wandered closer to me, her eyes slowly roaming across my face and chest and down to my feet then back again before looking me in the eye once more. Then she was close enough for me to reach out and touch her.

The light of the moon made her skin glow and I ran my finger along the bared patch between the top of her pants and her thin T-shirt. Her skin was so smooth and soft. I hooked my finger in her waistband and pulled her the rest of the way into me, then slid my other hand down over her tight, round ass.

She pressed against me, hip to hip and chest to chest, and her lips against my throat. I liked the feel of her, everywhere, doing what she wanted and loving it. Sarah was unlike any other girl I'd ever known. She didn't second-guess her wants and needs and whether it was right or wrong—she just took what she wanted, and she wanted me.

She hummed. "You smell so good," she said, standing on her tiptoes in those little, flippy sandals girls wear, running her nose up under my jaw. Damn, she was a tiny little thing, but solid and strong. I'd never seen such a little girl do the shit she did on that pole. Still, she was softer than anything I'd ever felt, with curves for fucking days.

I smiled and groaned out loud when her teeth scraped over my collarbone. She seemed to like that spot. Then her hands ran over the front of my shirt, her fingers dipping inside between the buttons.

"My cousin told me more about your bar fight," she said simply, lightly twisting the fabric of my shirt, and I froze.

It wasn't like I didn't think she'd ever find out, or like I was trying to keep it from her; I knew what I'd done, and so did everybody else within 50 miles of Gainesville, Georgia. I just didn't expect her to say it outright like that, since everybody else I knew tiptoed around that piece of my past like it was a landmine. But Sarah wasn't everybody else.

"I know it wasn't your fault," she said, looking up at me with certainty. "I don't even wanna know the whole story, so don't start telling me anythin' you don't wanna. I just wanted you t'know that I know, I guess."

She didn't ask, and I didn't think it mattered that I give her all the details from that night. We stood in silence for a few beats before I told her how I'd served only 10 months of my 2-year sentence, but was still on probation. She didn't even blink; she just kept looking at me like we were talking about the weather.

I relaxed into her body more and tightened my hands around her waist, then pulled her toward the passenger door of my truck. She smiled that big, pretty smile, showing her perfect, white teeth with her pink tongue pressing lightly behind.

"Gonna tell me whatcha got in mind?" she asked, letting me drag her along, gasping when I dipped my head and kissed her neck.

"Get ya naked," I told her, nice and quiet and soft like she likes, just to make her shake in my arms. I scraped my teeth over her ear, too, for added effect, then spun her and started walking her backward. "Fuck ya in my truck." I took a mouthful of the sweet, soft skin of her shoulder between my teeth.

Sarah drew a shaky breath. "Okay," she said.

I pushed her back against the door of the Ford and slid my hands up her sides, under her shirt. Her skin prickled and I laughed a little bit, making my body flush with hers and planting my hands on her hips. "Seventy degrees out here, girl. You cold?"

Sarah shook her head and gritted her teeth and yanked at the front of my shirt. She pulled me down until she was kissing me, sliding her wet tongue inside my mouth and scraping her teeth over my lips. I braced my hands on the side of the truck and went with it—her mouth on mine, slow and hot. She started making those sounds again, too, and my pants got tighter with every little whimper.

"C'mon," I said, pulling away from the kiss and opening up the passenger door. I helped her up into the truck and ran my hand down her arm and thigh, just to make sure she was all in, then slammed the door shut.

The drive to the park was 30-minutes. We didn't talk a lot, but Sarah told me she had another good night, moneywise, and hoped that kept up. She laughed when she told me that Madison asked her about the night before, saying Madison seemed extra interested in the details involving me.

"Where are we?" Sarah asked when I finally pulled off the road and cut the engine.

"Place nobody'll bother us." I shifted in my seat to face her. "What time ya gotta be home?"

She looked at me and shrugged. "Whenever ya get me there," she said with the kind of look on her face that said she wasn't in a rush, that she was comfortable right where she was, like she belonged in the cab of my truck. But I wanted her in the bed.

The night before, I'd thought her eyes were green, but they were like a kaleidoscope in the full moon light—flecks of gold and blue and black, spiraling, pulling me in and keeping me there. I watched her as I reached for the door and popped it open. Then she followed my lead and let herself out the passenger side, meeting me at the tailgate.

I opened the back of the pickup and leaped up into the bed, then reached down to help her up. "Packed some food and beer," I told her, once she was standing at her full height, the top of her head barely meeting my chin. "Ain't like that fancy champagne, but it'll do."

She looked up and smirked at me, her eyes drooping a little. "Don't gotta be fancy," she said quietly. "I'm here for the comp'ny." She dropped her bag to the floor of the truck bed, closed her eyes, and rolled her shoulders.

I started having second thoughts about taking her out there. It'd be sunrise before she got to sleep again, even if the night didn't turn into a fuckfest like it had the night before, and I was pretty sure it would.

I reached out and squeezed her shoulder where it met her neck, and she groaned. "Tired?" I asked, knowing it was a dumb fucking question. Hell, I was tired and I hadn't been lifting myself up and spinning around a pole for a bunch of drunk assholes for six hours.

She nodded and sighed, leaning into my hand. "Turn around," I said, and she didn't hesitate.

She dropped her head and relaxed her shoulders, letting me dig my thumbs into the tight knots there. She started making those sounds again, and my pants started getting tight again. I needed to get her fed before I just threw her down on the steel and fucked her until sunrise. I huddled up behind her, though, changing the angle and feeling that perfect ass of hers brush against my legs. She had to be able to feel how hard I was, right against her.

"Keep that up and we'll be havin' dessert 'fore dinner," she said, that sleepy, sweet smile on her face, as she lifted her head and twisted a little to look at me.

I pulled my hands from her shoulders, letting my fingers hang back on her skin for a bit. She was so soft and warm. "Yeah—let's get ya fed."

She smiled and nodded, glancing around the bed of the truck. "And a beer, right? I could go for a cold beer."

I'd strapped my cooler to the head of the truck bed, and packed a sleeping bag, a couple camping pillows, and a mattress. I didn't have a lot of experience making plans with girls, but I had a plan for Sarah, and I'd been thinking about it for hours. Once we were settling down, I was starting to wonder what the fuck I was thinking trying to impress a girl with a stupid, fucking camping trip to watch the sunrise.

"Never been here before," she said, taking it upon herself to reach for the bag of bedding and pull it open. "It's pretty out here—quiet. Clear night, too." She looked at me again and smiled, taking out the pillows and tossing them at her feet.

I watched her set up a makeshift bed for us out of the corner of my eye, as I pulled out a couple of sandwiches and some cut up apples. The beer I brought was in the bottom of the cooler, sunken in the ice bath, and I was glad it would be nice and cold for her.

I spread the food out on the sleeping bag and popped open a couple beers, keeping one eye on her as she kicked her flimsy, little sandals to the side. Then she sank to the bed, Indian-style, and grabbed one of the sandwiches. She took it from the wax paper I'd wrapped it in and was digging in before I even got mine open.

"Mmm." She closed her eyes and groaned into her first bite. I didn't really know what to put in the sandwich for her, if she even ate meat, but guessed I'd done the right thing. "Daryl, baby, this is amazin'. God, I'm always so hungry after work."

I nodded and took a bite of my sandwich, watching her enjoy her food. We ate and drank, listening to sounds of the woods around us. I'd pulled up into a small open space, where I used to sleep sometimes as a kid, whenever shit went south with Mama and Daddy. Sarah was right; it was quiet there.

She finished her sandwich and her beer, swiped at the corners of her mouth with her fingers, and stifled a belch. "Thank you," she said. "That was way better'n anything I'd'a come up with at Haley and Justin's. Those two need some help in the shoppin' department. Guess I need t'step up more."

She stretched and shifted and leaned back into the camping pillows and mattress, talking about how much she liked to cook. I finished my food and grabbed my beer, watching her wiggle her toes and flex her feet. "You cook a lot?" I asked.

"Not as much as I'd like," she said, tucking one hand under her head and looking me in the eye. "Why don't ya lay down here with me, baby?" She reached for my hand, and I did like she asked.

I rolled to my side, setting my beer on the cooler at our head, and resting my hand on her firm, flat belly where her T-shirt rode up. Sarah was tan, but not too tan. She looked like she'd just walked off the beach all the time, though, and not just because she was glowing; she was just so damn relaxed and natural.

I slipped my fingers up under her shirt and slowly cupped one of her round tits. My thumb slid up and over her nipple. The bra she was wearing was really thin, and I could feel her nipple, hard and tight, under the fabric.

She raised the free hand that wasn't propping up her head, tucked her fingers in my hair, and pulled me closer. "Your hands, baby… Shit." She arched her back, pushing her tits up and out, making it easy to take the one I wasn't playing with inside her shirt into my mouth. I sucked on the cotton, getting it wet, pulling it and her hard nipple between my teeth and pulling. "Fuck," she breathed.

I moved over her, pushing her shirt up and pulling her bra out of the way, cupping both her tits in my hands, sucking and licking her nipples. I couldn't fucking get enough, and she liked it, too. "The clasp's in the front," she said, gripping my hips and spreading her legs, pulling me between them.

I popped the clasp open and her tits spilled into my hands. I buried my face between them, licking and biting, and settled my hips in the cradle of her thighs. My elbows braced on either side of her body, and I bucked against her, my belt snagging on the thin cotton of her pants. Her hands left my hips and moved to her own, pushing at her waistband.

I moved back to help her, and we untangled her from her bra and T-shirt. Sarah tossed everything aside, and she was finally naked. Jesus Christ, she was fucking gorgeous—tight, round curves and smooth skin.

She climbed to her knees, working on my shirt with one hand and my pants with the other. Then she was kissing me again, her mouth, lazy and warm and wet against mine, as she shoved my shirt off. She kept kissing me as she pushed my pants down to my knees and gripped my dick in her hand—hard.

"Tha's good," I heard myself say around her lips, and I put my hands in her hair. I wanted to see if it was as soft as it looked. I wanted to feel something soft while she jacked me off. Shit, she was working me good and fast.

She moaned when she changed position kissing and stroking me, like it felt good to her. It all felt good to me, so I shouldn't have been surprised that she liked it, too. She got closer, then, wrapping her free hand around my neck, sucking on my bottom lip. I groaned, dragging my hands from her hair over her shoulders and down to her hips. "Lay back, girl," I said, and she stopped kissing me, but kept her eyes on mine. She did what I asked, laying back down where she was before. "An' keep those pretty legs open wide for me."

I kicked my boots off and shoved my pants, underwear, and socks off in one go. Sarah leaned back on her elbows, knees bent and legs open wide, just like I asked. I hummed. "Tha's real good, girl." I pulled one of her ankles until she dropped from her elbows to flat on her back. She smiled and arched upward, stretching, and burying her own fingers in that soft hair of hers. "Gonna get what ya want now, Sarah."

I fell to my hands and knees over her, and kissed her. I couldn't remember a time when I kissed a girl without her kissing me first, but I liked the way Sarah kissed. I wanted more.

I reached one hand down to her pussy, slid my fingers down her slit; she was so fucking wet. That girl was always so wet. I slid my fingers inside her, and she clenched around them. "C'mon, baby… please." Sarah begged and bucked her hips again.

I kissed her harder, sliding my first three fingers in and out of her, one at a time, nice and slow, getting them wet and making her wait. Then I pressed my thumb over her clit and started circling. "Wanna come like this?" I nipped at her jaw and kissed her throat. "Or ya want my cock?"

Sarah whimpered. "Fuck me." She moved her hips up and around, searching for something.

I couldn't help but smile at how much she wanted it. She'd been so good to me—so honest and she didn't play games—and I'd give her exactly what she wanted. I wasn't into playing games, either, but she looked so pretty when she begged.

"I will," I said, tasting her skin as she started working up a sweat. "But ya gotta tell me how you want it."

I swear she growled, grasping for anything she could hold onto. "Your cock," she said, pulling my bottom lip between her teeth. "In my pussy. Right fuckin' now."

Then I stopped playing. I took my dick in my hand and slid home.

"Yes," she hissed, and wrapped her legs around my waist. We lay like that for a second, nice and warm, closer than I could ever remember being to anybody. "Move, baby. Please," she said, kissing my neck.

I braced myself on my forearms and started to move. I wanted to kiss her again, too, so I did. I kissed her and felt her tighten and swell around me, and listened to her make those sounds that made me harder as I fucked her slow and deep.

"Daryl," she whined and shifted under me. "I… you feel… oh, my god." Her hands were everywhere. I kissed her and slid my fingers over her smooth skin as it glowed blue and white in the moonlight. Then she tightened her legs around my hips. "I'm coming, baby."

Damn, I couldn't wait to feel her come. I started fucking her harder, but just as slow and deep. Then I felt her clenching fast and hard.

"Fuck." I couldn't breathe for a second, but I kept sliding in and out, feeling Sarah come. I'd never felt anything like it. The way she came under me made me come harder than I had even the night before. I was fucking shaking.

"Baby," she said, letting her legs slide from my back and fall open at her sides. "That was… Jesus, I didn't know we could top last night." She rested her hands against my chest and kissed me.

I pulled out and away from her, rolling to my side and dragging her with me. "Me neither." We lay still and quiet, staring up at the stars. Sarah's breathing slowly became heavy and steady, and her body relaxed even more. I knew she was asleep. I pulled the sleeping bag over us in the cool night air, soaking up her warmth, trying to fight my own sleep, just to keep feeling what I was feeling.

A few hours later, she woke me up, straddled my hips and rode me until the sun came up. I watched the light spill over the mountaintops and the peaks and valleys of Sarah's body, and I started thinking about all the things we could do together in the light of day. I started making more plans.

End notes: I owe so much of my sanity and my ability to form words into sentences for this fic to Rhanon Brodie, who reads and reads again through these chapters before you all do, leaves brilliant and reflective margin chat, and talks with me for hours about things that make this what it is when I post it.

MsKathy makes my writing English good and is my friend.