Chapter Seven
Lauren’s work at Wicked Brand involved cost cutting and placing ads to sell the parlor, which didn’t take the whole day, any day. Even so, she’d taken to arriving early, wanting to see Dante before his clients started to trickle in.
Today her routine also included a walk around the business district. Not for exercise. She searched for places where he might take her, in a carnal sense. Exposed areas that would prove exciting but wouldn’t get them arrested.
Dante wasn’t a fool.
Rarely had she met anyone as intelligent. She still couldn’t figure out what he’d done before coming to the parlor. His great looks made him prime model material. Deep inside, she sensed that sort of life wouldn’t have satisfied him. It was too phony, and he certainly wasn’t swayed by image or money.
The mystery continued.
Shrugging it off, she passed buildings that were now part of her world and beginning to seem too much like home. There was the one where the artist painted outside, cafés with outrageously expensive menus, and trendy shops selling stuff she couldn’t afford. Weeks ago, she would have felt like a loser because of her dwindling finances. This morning, she imagined herself and Dante on a restaurant table or among the merchandise and mannequins in display windows, going at each other like there was no tomorrow.
She wasn’t certain whether to laugh, groan, or squeal in excitement.
Rooftops drew her attention next. She and Dante could frolic naked up there and still be safe. With the stars above them, it would also be very romantic tonight. She had no doubt about the timing. Yesterday evening, Dante had told her not to bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.
“Ever?” She’d wanted to pin him down, get some details for a change. “Or just for tomorrow?”
“Starting tomorrow.”
She pretended he’d wounded her. “You don’t like my cooking?”
“Do you?”
She laughed. “No. But wherever we eat tomorrow night, we go Dutch.”
“Depends on what we eat.”
When she’d asked what that meant, he refused to discuss it further.
This was so cool. Like waiting for Christmas. Once they’d opened their respective packages, so to speak, things would get even better. They’d go at each other’s hot spots, her on top, him on the bottom. Licking, lapping, suckling. In public.
She wiped perspiration from her neck, not entirely from her racy thoughts. It was barely eleven o’clock and already too steamy to stay outdoors for long. The tourists hurried between air-conditioned shops.
Lauren left those buildings behind and stopped short of Wicked Brand. A black pickup took up a nearby space. Couldn’t belong to a customer. The parlor didn’t open for another hour. As far as Van Gogh and Jasmina were concerned, Lauren had thought they didn’t have wheels. Even if they did, she couldn’t imagine them owning a vehicle that looked like this one. Sleek and muscled.
Exactly like Dante.
She rounded the pickup. The back bed was long enough for some serious action. Him on top, pounding away. Or her straddling him.
Her mouth went dry.
Maybe this was his surprise. Maybe not. He’d said they wouldn’t be in a vehicle when they went to the next level. She wasn’t sure if the truck bed was considered in or out.
She rushed into the parlor and stopped inside his workstation, surprised he wasn’t in the room.
A large wicker basket rested on a chair.
They were going on a picnic? That opened up endless possibilities in an area with countless parks and beaches that stretched for miles. They could run naked through the surf. Dante could mount her behind palm trees, take her on the deserted lifeguard stand, or screw her like crazy within sight of a hotel.
Before her imagination got too lusty, she leaned past the doorway into the hall. He wasn’t in the back room. The lights were still off. She turned and flinched.
He was close enough to kiss. Right now, she wanted answers more than anything else. “You made food for tonight?”
He grinned at her chambray skirt that she’d bought on eBay for ten bucks. Vintage style, it gathered at the waist, flared at the lacy white hem, and landed just above her knees. Long enough to be decent if she didn’t wear panties, which she hadn’t.
Dante stared at her white tee as one would the Holy Grail. That alone told Lauren her nipples were poking against the stretchy fabric.
She tapped his arm. “Answer me.”
He looked at her dumbly. “Huh?”
“What did you make for tonight?”
“Make?”
She suppressed a snicker, liking how her boobs reduced him to monosyllables. “As in food. For tonight.” She gestured to the basket.
He laughed. “Nothing. I’m saving my strength for other stuff. Now scoot.” He swatted her ass playfully and strode into his station.
Lauren rubbed her smacked butt, wanting more discipline from him. “Scoot?”
“No more questions.” He tossed his wallet in the drawer, followed by his keys.
She figured one opened the parlor. Another surely was to his place. The next had to be for his truck. It looked like that type of key. “Is that your pickup outside? You drove it today to bring us to the next level? Wherever that may be.” She flashed a smile. “If you didn’t make anything for us to eat, what’s in the basket?”
She guessed condoms, sex toys, ropes, cuffs, a blindfold… Curious and thrilled, she slipped her thumb beneath a flap to open it.
Dante pushed her hand away and put the basket in a top cabinet. Too high for her to reach unless she stood on a chair. “Go. Not another question, or there won’t be any fun tonight.”
Lauren opened her mouth to argue, then promptly shut it without saying a word.
The day dragged endlessly for Lauren.
Dante avoided her and pretended not to notice how she repeatedly strolled by his workstation. When he didn’t have customers, he closed his door. Something he never did.
Jasmina noticed. She cornered Lauren in the hall and pulled her to the front, which was currently empty. “What’s wrong with Dante?” She spoke softly. “Did he take you to dinner like I suggested? Didn’t you guys have a good time? Didn’t you let him kiss you good night? Is that why his door’s closed? You rejected him?”
Jasmina’s rapid-fire questions gave Lauren a clue how Dante felt about hers. “We had a nice time.”
Jasmina brightened. “Then you did go out. I knew it. Did he kiss you?”
In places she would have never guessed. “Ah no.” Despite the fun Lauren and Dante were having, she reminded herself it was only temporary. She didn’t want Jasmina’s hope for a grand romance to cloud her own good sense. Nor did she want to long for something that could never be. Before Lauren plunged into melancholy, she shoved her feelings aside and got real. “We’re just coworkers.”
Jasmina’s happiness collapsed. “You could be lovers. I see it every time you look at each other.”
Lauren wanted to hear more but told herself that was nuts. Jasmina was young and impressionable. Life hadn’t steamrolled her yet. Hell, she was the type who’d fight back, pulverizing anything in her way while smiling sweetly. “He’ll never want for women. Just look at him.”
Jasmina crossed her arms. “You’re too caught up in looks. Dante’s more than that.”
She was preaching to the choir. He was attentive, fun, generous, fair, and kind. What planet had he come from? Guys were supposed to be feckless like Frank, abandoning their loved ones at will.
Trouble was Lauren would never be Dante’s loved one.
They had grown a friendship. That meant they had a good time without the other junk screwing things up. Once real passion entered the equation, all bets were off for a happily ever after. “He’s wonderful, as a friend. Only a friend.”
Jasmina’s mouth turned down.
Despair also gripped Lauren, leaving her bereft, but she couldn’t deny facts. What she and Dante had was momentary fun, nothing more.
Rather than dwell on the sorry truth, she buried herself in the endless job search and her quest to sell this place. More loons had answered her ads about the parlor. She deleted their emails, rewrote the notices with the caveat that she’d only consider serious offers, and put them on the sites. To her surprise, a place where she’d applied for an HR job had sent a personality test and requested detailed information on her responsibilities at her last employer.
She gripped her chair and reread the email once more, just to make certain she got it right the first time. Oh my God, she had. Her pulse pounded so hard, she went briefly dizzy but shook it off so she could get to work. She studied her files on how to ace personality tests. After that, she scoured the ones she’d administered to applicants during her career. She practiced for hours, wanting to come off as extremely competent but not a threat to a higher up. Easy to work with but firm in administering company policy. Knowledgeable yet eager to learn. Able to hit the ground running no matter what anyone asked for, especially if it was impossible. In other words, perfect.
She sweated every detail before taking the actual test. To her surprise and relief, neither Jasmina nor Dante interrupted her for lunch or anything else. She figured Jasmina had moved on from the Lauren-and-Dante love affair to her own. Dante most likely had made himself scarce because he didn’t want to dodge her endless questions about their coming sexfest. She giggled and stopped.
Should she tell him about the personality test and request for more info? Since it wasn’t a job offer, she wouldn’t. Already her excitement had tempered to cautious optimism. In a few more hours, she’d probably be convinced this would lead nowhere, just as her few interviews had.
Besides, there was other stuff to consider: what might be in the picnic basket, where he was driving them, and what sinful activities constituted the next level. It was a fantasy she and Dante were building before reality crashed in, which it would. Though not tonight.
A sharp rap hit her door.
It was a few minutes past closing. She powered down her computer and smiled.
…
There’d been times today when Dante hadn’t believed this moment would come.
Van Gogh had taken forever to clean up his workstation and split. Before Jasmina had left, she stared at Dante. He figured she expected him to do or say something, but what exactly he didn’t know.
He gave up trying to guess. “What?”
Jasmina gave him a sympathetic look. “I was so sure about…” She bit her lip, then sighed. “Things will get better. Just give it time.”
He hadn’t a clue what she meant but nodded readily, eager to get rid of her and put his plans in motion.
Lauren opened the door to his workstation, her smile luminous, and glanced past him, then to each side. A frown replaced her delight. “Where is it?”
He placed her palm on his fly. His cock twitched appreciatively. “Where it’s always been.”
“Seriously?” She cupped his balls.
Lord, that felt nice. If his boys could sing, they would have serenaded her.
“You’re right.” She ran her thumb over his equipment. “Everything’s where it should be except for the picnic basket.”
She stroked his balls, not letting him think past the tingling or heat coiling in his groin and growing to a dangerous level. Before his lust got the better of him, he pulled her hand away. “It’s in the pickup.”
“What’s inside?”
“Seats. A steering wheel. The dashboard. Floor mats.”
Lauren laughed. “Not the truck.” She got serious. “The basket.”
“You’ll see.”
She made a face. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere if you don’t stop asking questions. Don’t you trust me?”
Her frustration turned to surprise, then she gave him an apologetic look. “Of course I do. You’d never let us get arrested.”
That stopped him. God only knew what she thought he had in the basket. “Damn right. At least not until we’ve had some fun first. Come on.” Ignoring her sudden disquiet, he pulled her outside to his pickup and settled her in the passenger seat. “The belt goes on. I want you safe.”
She buckled up.
“Lift your skirt.”
Lauren stared at him, then the garment. He helped her push the fabric to her upper legs. After climbing in on his side, he pulled up the armrests and started the engine. “Turn toward me and spread your thighs.”
She looked out the windows as if she thought people were staring.
Several couples dressed like tourists wandered down the walk, limp from the heat. A few cars passed.
Dante rested his hand on her thigh.
She moaned softly.
He just about died at the silky smoothness of her skin and that he couldn’t take her here as he wanted.
“Lauren.” He struggled to control himself. “Do you want this?” He slid his hand to her mound and buried his fingertips in her springy hair.
She nodded vigorously.
He pulled back his hand. “Then turn toward me and spread your thighs.”
She obeyed immediately.
He stroked her cleft and enjoyed her prolonged sigh. “See what you get when you cooperate?”
She mumbled something and wriggled closer. Pleased, he pulled away from the parking space. While he drove, he fondled her thigh. At each stoplight, he played with her intimately, tugging her curls and running his fingers over her clit. She puffed out a breath, sucked in more air, then lost it again. By the time they’d traveled several miles, Lauren didn’t bother looking at the nearby vehicles. Either she didn’t notice they were around or she no longer cared if those pickups and SUVs were high enough for their passengers to peer inside.
She was his. Willing. Wanting.
He coaxed her closer to orgasm at the next light. When it turned green, he drove a short distance, parked, and stopped touching her.
“No.” She made a whiny sound. “Don’t stop. I’m almost there. Let me finish.”
“You bet.” He got out, grabbed the basket from the backseat, and opened her door.
She frowned. “You left me hanging.”
“Consider it a slight delay.” He unbuckled her belt and cupped her naked ass to help her from the seat.
She inhaled sharply, smoothed down her skirt, and regarded the quiet residential street bathed in shadows. An occasional streetlamp and hazy moonlight were all that interrupted the velvety darkness. The faint breeze was humid but fresh. The ocean scent mingled with sweet perfume from countless flowers, vegetation, and mown lawns.
Lauren cupped his face. “Did you used to live around here?”
She’d spoken softly as one would in a sacred place.
He smiled. “No. Now we walk.” He took her hand.
She held his tightly. “To where?”
“You’ll see.”
He led her across the street and down several others. They passed residents out for a stroll or exercising their dogs. Dante exchanged brief greetings with them. Lauren took everything in, her steps halting. He guessed she was trying to figure out where they’d stop.
At last, they reached their destination.
Lauren froze and stared at the cop car near the park entrance.
Dante pulled her along.
“What are you doing?” She tried to hold him back but couldn’t. He was too big and determined.
He tugged her forward.
She twisted her hand, trying to free it. “We can’t go in there. It’s closed. Don’t you see the cop?”
The window on the squad car rolled down. “Hey, Dante.”
“Hey, yourself.” Gabe had been a good friend for years.
After giving Lauren the once-over, Gabe offered Dante a thumbs-up and pulled away.
Lauren watched the departing patrol car. “You know him?”
“Yep.”
“Did you used to be a cop?”
He laughed. “Nope. I’m acquainted with quite a few, though.”
“Uh-huh. I’d ask if you were a former felon, but you don’t seem like the type.”
He was glad for that. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Sure. Did the cops clear out the park for you tonight?”
“It closed at sunset.”
“But they won’t arrest us because you set this up with them.”
He knew Lauren was a worrier, but he had no idea why she was so stuck on them being arrested. Maybe that was one of her fantasies she didn’t want coming true. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah. It’s them I’m concerned about.”
“No need to be. They’re chasing down real criminals.” He led her across the parking lot and lawn to a massive banyan tree, its gnarled trunk nearly as wide as a house. In the distance, the city glittered, its bright lights bleeding into the water. He pulled a cotton blanket from the basket and spread it over the velvety grass.
“Down you go.” With his arm around her waist, he helped her to the ground.
When it came to her skirt, she folded her legs one way, then another, and kept tugging the material to cover herself.
Way too chaste for him. “Try sitting cross-legged. Pull up your skirt so I can see your bush.”
Her gaze darted everywhere, even though there wasn’t a soul around except them. She did as he suggested but pressed her skirt between her legs. “What else is in the basket?” She reached for it.
He pulled it away. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
Lauren snickered. After checking out their surroundings and seeing that they were still alone, though technically exposed, she folded back her skirt.
Wasn’t enough. “Higher. Push it to your waist. Hell, forget that. Take the damn thing off.”
She gave him a look reserved for naïve children or foolish men. “The hair doesn’t come off.”
“You know what I mean. Lose the skirt.”
Lauren pulled it to her upper thighs and left it at that.
He narrowed his eyes. “You do realize I could spank you out here and Gabe wouldn’t lift a finger to help you. Neither would any of the other guys. They’d cheer me on.”
“Gabe? Guys?”
“The cop we just passed and the other officers on the force who like me because I’ve never been a felon.”
She nodded. “Threaten me all you want. The skirt doesn’t move until you show me yours.”
“You asked for it.” He pulled two Skol bottles from the basket along with foil-wrapped packages and a paper bag.
Lauren examined the goods. “You brought French fries and sandwiches?”
She sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed.
Dante corrected her. “I brought Cubanos and plantain fries.”
She peeled back the foil on her Cubano, sighed at the savory scent, and leaned over to look into the basket.
Dante removed a cloth napkin that he’d gotten from his uncle’s restaurant. Although he handed the linen to Lauren, she wasn’t appeased. She craned her neck to see what else was inside.
The only things left were his napkin and churros for dessert. “What did you think I had in here?”
“Nothing.” She bit into her Cubano and made a throaty noise brimming with satisfaction.
She wasn’t putting off his question that easily. “Come on, tell me.” He stroked her naked thigh but stopped before reaching her curls.
Lauren’s lips parted on a breathy moan. Her mouth was shiny from the ham and pork juice. Mustard stained her lower lip.
Dante longed to lick it off but didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not until he got an answer.
“This Cubano is really good.”
He pulled back his hand. “If you don’t want to talk, just say so. I’m good with that.”
Her cheeks darkened. Embarassment flooded her face. “Cuffs, all right?”
“I don’t know. What about them?”
“I thought you had cuffs in the basket. Maybe even a blindfold.” She shrugged. “And sex toys.”
He liked how she kept surprising him. Dante cupped his rod and nuts. “My toys go everywhere I do. As far as a blindfold’s concerned…”
With his napkin between his hands, he whipped the fabric over until it was narrow enough to cover her eyes. “Come here.”
…
His napkin looked ominous somehow, exciting, too. Expectant as hell, Lauren lowered her Cubano and leaned toward him.
He slipped the napkin over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
Her other senses intensified. Tang from the mustard, along with the salty ham, teased her palate. Pork and cheese offered heavenly fragrances that mingled with the sultry air and Dante’s scent.
He tied the napkin, and the fabric rasped. Leaves rustled in the faint wind. A car passed in the distance. Someone called out, the voice too far away for her to understand the words or to know the speaker’s sex.
It was always possible that person would eventually come here and see what Dante was doing. He lifted her skirt to her waist, tucked it in the band so it’d stay up, and exposed her intimately. Warm air licked her damp folds.
The paper bag crinkled.
She flinched.
“Easy.” Dante squeezed her shoulder.
She tried to relax but couldn’t. Her senses were on overload. It was thrilling and slightly daunting—her fantasies couldn’t compare.
He ran something over her lips.
She sniffed. Pepper and other spices registered. “Is that a fry?”
“Plantain. Eat.”
Mouthwatering didn’t do the food justice. She relished the sweet-salty treat, crispy on the outside, creamy in the middle. When she reached his fingers, she licked salt from them, wanting to taste him.
He brushed her sandwich across her mouth.
Obediently, she took a bite.
He buried his hand in her curls and thumbed her clit.
She forgot to chew.
Dante rubbed lightly. “Eat. Or this stops.”
This kicked serious ass. He didn’t want her to have to choose between her two favorite things: food and sex. Was any other man as great?
Lauren ate with abandon. She sensed her appetite pleased Dante rather than put him off. Her bites and chews kept time with her mounting arousal. Her channel ached, needing immediate relief. She burned for completion.
He offered her another bite.
She pushed the sandwich away.
He pressed his cheek to hers, his stubble deliciously rough against her skin. “Had enough?”
“Of the food. Not you.” There wasn’t enough time left in Lauren’s life to get her fill of him.
He kissed her ear and eased away. The foil rattled. He must have dropped her remaining Cubano on it.
Dante lowered her to the blanket and dragged her arms above her head. With her wrists in one hand, he rested his other on her naked belly. His fingers curled over her mound to her clit.
Never had she felt as naked, even when she’d been fully nude. Then, she’d been inside a building. Out here, the breeze brushed against her partial nudity and underscored how vulnerable she was, how deliciously bared. Each touch from him increased her delight and anticipation.
If anyone came by now, she and Dante were seriously screwed, and not only because of their carnal actions. Lauren doubted that a voyeuristic crowd or every cop on the force could have encouraged her to stop. This was too wicked to resist. She gritted her teeth and tried to delay her climax.
No good. Her lust knew what it had to have. So did her heart. It opened even more to Dante when it shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t help herself.
He stroked her clit softly, hard, then softly again.
The pressure between her legs built and became intolerable but wholly desired. She tensed and held her breath.
Dante rubbed faster.
Too many feelings bombarded her: rowdy excitement, unparalleled pleasure, stupefying heat, and boundless tenderness. Lauren came joyously and with stunning glee. Wave after wave crashed through her, leaving her trembling and weak. She struggled to catch enough air, her chest heaving.
Dante leaned over her, his hair skimming her cheeks. “Doing okay?”
It took her a moment to gather enough energy to answer. “Uh-huh.”
“Mind if I eat?”
“Not at all.” Lauren wanted to do the same with him. She spread her legs, offering her sex. She needed his cock in her mouth and his balls dangling above her upper lip so she could smell them.
“Thanks.” He scooted back. Foil crinkled. The bag rustled.
She tried to interpret the sounds and what he was planning but couldn’t. “What are you doing?”
“Eating.”
He’d spoken with a mouth filled with food, not her.
She pulled off the blindfold and propped herself on her elbows, her fatigue gone, curiosity roused.
After swigging his beer, he dove back into his Cubano.
She crawled to him and licked mustard from his mouth. “I thought you were going to eat me. Actually, I hoped we’d eat each other.”
A grin spread across his face. “Later. Don’t ask when.”
She closed her mouth and sat on her heels, content to wait for him.
Dante enjoyed his meal without hesitation or restraint, comfortable enough with her to be himself. He even licked his fingers until she did that for him.
She relaxed between his legs, enjoying the feel of him against her. He fed her the remaining plantains and insisted she finish her sandwich. After downing it and her beer, she sagged against his hard chest. A few stars winked through thin clouds that blurred the moon and further softened the night.
Lauren wished they could stay here forever and hated that they couldn’t. “This was nice.”
“Was?” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s not over. It’s not even close to the next level.”
…
Once Dante had cleaned up, he helped Lauren to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned into him, placing her trust and tonight’s pleasure in his hands. Nothing could have made him happier. He guided her through the quiet grounds. Gravel crunched beneath their sandals. A dog’s faint bark sounded in the distance. Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb them. It gently rustled through the bushes, trees, and flowers.
Snuggled against his side, she regarded the tranquil scene, her practicality and worries seemingly forgotten for the moment, replaced by eagerness and hunger as deep as his.
She eyed the jungle gym longer than an adult normally would, possibly expecting him to tie her to those bars and play with her lush nudity.
He didn’t.
She regarded the picnic tables with an intensity that told him she’d be perfectly happy if he took her there.
He passed them, too.
Lauren didn’t ask why, nor did she question where they were going. She let him lead the way.
He loved seeing her eager and trusting. The woman he sensed she really was and might always have been if Frank hadn’t shattered her world when she’d been small and helpless. He knew it took a lot for Lauren to put her faith in anyone, especially a guy. For her to have agreed to tonight meant the world to him.
He wasn’t a saint by any means, but he’d never lied to get into a woman’s panties. Nor had he ever promised something he had no intention of delivering. He didn’t know how any man could do that to a woman. His father treated Dante’s mother better than he would a queen. They respected and trusted each other completely. To Dante, their behavior seemed natural and a standard he’d always set for himself.
They neared a small pond. A few benches circled it. No bushes or trees. The location was sufficiently romantic and decidedly exposed, unlike the banyan that had offered deeper shadows beneath its branches, pretty much hiding them completely.
Lauren slowed.
He guided her past the water.
Restless now, she tensed against him and scoped out the landscape, possibly wondering where they’d end up.
Their destination wasn’t far.
When Lauren saw it, she stopped.
Dante pulled her along.
She matched his pace. “Seriously?”
He pretended not to understand. “What?”
“The merry-go-round?” She pointed at the gold-and-white carousel complete with painted horses and surrounded by a white picket fence. “We’re going to ride on that?”
He tightened his arm around her waist. “We’re going to ride each other.”
“On that? Get out.”
“Do you doubt me?”
“God no.”
Her frank endorsement made him grin. Hell, it boosted his testosterone level 1000 percent, which made his cock feel huge and his clothes too restrictive.
They reached the ride.
He put the basket on the concrete and vaulted over the short fence. “Come on, I’ll help you over.” He offered Lauren his hand.
She gave him a look that said it wasn’t happening. After regarding the fence, she sauntered around its perimeter, reached the gate, and entered the usual way.
So much for ditching her practicality. Before this night ended, he wanted Lauren as uninhibited as he was.
Joining him, she contemplated the ride. “Does it work?”
He placed her palm on his monster erection. “What do you think?”
“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever known.” She sagged against him. “You’re also nuts if you believe I’d ever question your virility.”
“Talk about a backhanded compliment.” He swatted her ass and captured her mouth, plunging his tongue deeply inside.
Lauren made a faint, surprised noise, then suckled his tongue with fervor. She wreathed her arms around his neck and held him tightly.
Her strength had nothing on his. Dante warned himself to take it easy so he wouldn’t hurt her. He was that turned on. Carefully, he fondled her breast and dragged his thumb over her taut nipple.
She ground against his cock, dug her fingers into his shoulders, and tugged him closer.
It appeared her caution had ended. Elated, he deepened their kiss and squeezed her boob. Her moan said she liked that. Teetering right and left, they enjoyed one helluva deep, wet, and prolonged kiss.
He broke it before she did but only because he needed air.
Lauren rested her head on his shoulder. “More.”
Grinning, Dante eased away and grabbed her hand. “Come on.” He helped her onto the platform and bypassed the horses.
“Wait.” She held back. “I like this one.” She stroked its wooden tail.
He pulled her forward. “You’ll like this better.” He stopped at a bench-like seat that had high panels on either side decorated with a fairy prince and princess.
Lauren made a face. “That’s where old people sit.”
“Not with me here it isn’t. No, stay on your feet.”
She straightened. “Why? Wait. Where are you going?”
To start the ride, hopefully. The control panel was in a podium to the right where the operator would stand. Dante dug the instructions from his back pocket and tried to read them in the gloom. At last, he turned on his cell phone and used its light.
Lauren gripped a gold-and-white pole and swung toward him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
He looked up. “You even have to ask?”
She regarded his cheat sheet. “Nope. You’re perfect.”
Laughing softly, he pulled out the key and opened the control box.
“Did Gabe give you that?”
Another friend in local government had. “I found it one day.”
“Wow, are you lucky or what? Are you going to turn on the lights and music? You know, draw a crowd?”
He shot her a look. “What do you think?”
She smiled sweetly. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
He wished. Dante followed the instructions religiously and prayed that the piped calliope music and blazing lights wouldn’t come on. Holding his breath, he flicked the switch. The motor hummed, and the carousel turned slowly. No lights. No music.
Blastoff.
He pocketed the instructions, strode to the ride, and hopped on. Lauren was several feet away, one hand on the bench to steady herself, the other waving furiously to make certain he saw her.
Suppressing laughter, he lumbered past bobbing horses and reached her side.
She looked at him with awe, tenderness, and hunger in her gaze. “What now?”
He didn’t have time for words. He undid his jeans, shoved them and his stretchy boxers down, and plopped on the bench. His cock was so rigid and ready, the damn thing pointed at her.
Lauren licked her lips.
Before she got the wrong idea and fell to her knees, he pulled a condom from his pocket. “This is for you.”
“Us. Can I put it on?”
“Next time.” He couldn’t delay his desire much longer. Once he’d rolled the slippery latex up his length, he patted his thigh. “Hop on.”
With an indecent smile, Lauren gripped his shoulder and used him for support. She raised her skirt above her belly. Her curls glistened in the available light, showing how wet she was.
He pulsed with endless need.
She lifted her leg to straddle him.
“No, wait…not that way.” His words caught with his crazy arousal. He cleared his throat. “Turn around.”
She gave him a baffled look but did as he’d asked. Slowly, though. Her footing was unsure from the rotating carousel.
“I have you.” He rested his hands on her hips. “I won’t let you fall.”
She looked over. “I know that.”
Her faith in him made Dante feel more worthy than he had in a long time. He returned her soft smile.
She winked. “Ready?”
“You can’t imagine.”
With her back to him and his hands supporting her, she straddled his legs and cradled his rod.
He drew in a deep breath.
Lauren guided his crown to her silky folds.
She was past wet, clear to saturated. If he could have managed, he would have groaned in delight. She lowered herself over him and sank down, her channel swallowing his shaft.
Her tightness and heat caressed, sending pleasant shivers through him. Impatient, he jerked his hips and pushed his remaining inches into her.
Lauren’s head fell forward. Wild, yearning sounds burst from her.
Making any noise wasn’t going to happen for him. He was too breathless. Wanting more, hell, demanding everything, he pressed his face to her shoulder and pulled her tee to her throat.
She arched her back.
He was too impatient to figure out where her bra clasp might be, so he pulled the cups aside, then down, and freed her lavish breasts.
Their weight and her tightened nipples shook him to his core. He fondled her roughly, as she liked and he preferred. Lauren gasped and whispered something he didn’t catch. He pumped his hips, wanting to be deeper, to burrow as far as he could within her.
She tightened around his cock, lifted herself, and sank back down, creating unimaginable friction.
Blood pounded in his ears. He was so sensitive, he gritted his teeth to keep from bellowing in delight. God, he wanted this woman.
Lauren rode him with true abandon, proving she cared only about this and them, not the outside world. It swirled by with the circling carousel, the vegetation and grassy expanses nothing more than shadowed blurs. He squeezed her breasts, stroked her fluffy curls, and rubbed her clit.
She froze. On a low, lusty moan, she pumped anew.
The bench creaked from their love play. Wind whisked past. Their scents mingled. The soft noises they made blended, creating beautiful night music.
Dante fought against climax. Lauren did, too. She slowed, gulped air, and shivered with indisputable need. Once she’d gained control, she sped up, driving herself and him to the edge.
It neared, as unstoppable as time ticking by.
Their breathing quickened, and the world seemed to stop.
Then they soared and tumbled together, damp with perspiration, their cries in perfect harmony, their strained breaths breaking the silence before floating away into the night.