The kiss was nice. I was surprised at myself for what I did next but still, it was very nice.
He grazed my lips first, and I opened mine a little, reacting automatically when I felt his tongue tentatively licking my upper lip. I touched it with the tip of my own, and he tilted his head a little, waiting. I just... went for it.
I slipped my tongue between his lips, and he opened wider, starting to answer the kiss. He slowly leaned back, making me bend over instead, and I felt his hand sliding onto my neck, his thumb resting right in front of my ear, high on my cheek.
Then he took over the kiss by leaning forward again, and showing less restraint. A lot less. He covered my mouth entirely, and went for it, hungrily attacking me. He gently forced me down onto my back, covering half my chest with his, still holding my head as he lowered me onto the blanket.
It felt secure. I don't know how the word came into my mind, but that's how it felt: secure. I trusted him to not let my head drop onto the ground, and he didn't. I was quite comfortable, actually, and really enjoyed the taste of him: fresh, like the wine, spicy, like the filling in the sandwiches, and just very male. I kissed him back with enthusiasm, and where that came from, I didn't know - it just did.
When the kiss wound down and Michael eventually lifted his head, my lips felt swollen and tender. His were in the same state, glistening, and he licked them, coughing softly.
"You're welcome," he said, a corner of his mouth rising up.
I frowned, not realizing why he said that, arriving at the answer a moment later.
"Sure," I replied, setting a hand against his chest.
Now that it was over, I felt self conscious and a bit embarrassed for reacting the way I did.
He took the hint and sat back up, taking a sip from his glass.
I took up the camera and checked the pictures I'd already taken, if only to have something to do. I looked up when he snickered softly. "What?"
"You know... you haven't thanked me for that yet," he said, gesturing at the camera.
My cheeks heated up at that point and it caused him to throw his head back and laugh out loud. It echoed through the canyon, making the sound almost mocking.
I was glad, then, that the thumping sound of the approaching ‘copter became audible, and about a minute later it appeared over the rim.
If the Grand Canyon was majestic, Monument Valley was, in my opinion, downright royal. It's been the setting of so many westerns, I think I even recognized several of the rock formations. It was a sight to see, especially from the air.
From the east, evening was rapidly approaching, turning the land below into a flaming red scene, with elongated shadows coming from the rock formations. I took another picture and the camera beeped, warning me that the storage was almost full; two more pictures, maybe three. I made a face at Michael and held it up with a pout.
He reached over and took it from me, telling me to take off the headphones. When I did, he brought the camera up and shouted that I should sit still.
I pulled up a knee on the seat, wrapping my arms around it and posed dutifully, hoping that he'd get some of the background on it as well. When he was done he showed it to me, and I looked kinda cool, even if I say so myself, smiling softly at the camera.
I gestured to him, to also take the headphones off so I could take his picture, but he held up his hand, shaking no. I shrugged and aimed the camera at him anyway, waiting until he got tired of waving a hand in front of the lens. I grinned and snapped his picture in a moment of weakness, showing him the result from afar. He feigned a grab, gave an exaggerated sigh, and pulled the headphones off. He propped himself up against the door, yelling that I'd better do it quick, or he'd change his mind.
I waited until the pilot turned away from the setting sun, and as the last rays of sunlight pierced into the cabin, and struck his face, I snapped it. I didn't hear a beep yet, indicating that the camera's storage was full, so I snapped two more; then it beeped several times.
"Are you done?" he yelled, still semi-grumpy, and when I nodded, he tapped the pilot's shoulder and mouthed 'home'.
I felt a pang of regret, leaving this scenery behind, and stared out the window until the last rock formation disappeared from view.