By the time the spinning teacup-pumpkin ride ended, my head was dizzy and I was regretting eating the entire bag of popcorn myself.

"Ughhh." I put a hand to my belly. "I'm going to be sick."

"There's a trashcan over there," Damon pointed out helpfully.

I made a face at him. "Let's just choose something a little slower paced next time."

He scanned the fairgrounds. "That one looks good," he said, pointing.

"The Tunnel of Love?" I laughed. "Of course that's what you would choose."

"It's not a tunnel of love," he corrected. "This is a Halloween carnival. It's a tunnel of horror."

"You just want to get me alone in a dark place."

He grinned and handed over the tickets to the waiting attendant.

We climbed into the ride. The bench was narrow, forcing us to squish together, our hips touching. I didn't object.

As the carriage began to move into the dark tunnel, spooky music started up and fake demons and ghosts appeared, lining the walls. The ride seemed more suitable to kids than adults.

Damon put his hand around my waist.

"Are you planning on comforting me when the scary monsters jump out?" I asked.

Damon's hand lowered from my waist to my thigh. He leaned down to press a sucking kiss on my neck. "Comfort isn't what I'm after."

I shivered as his fingers crept lower to my inner thigh, just barely brushing the apex of my legs. "Do I even need to ask what you're after?"

He popped the button on my jeans. My breath caught in my throat. He snuck his hand between the gap, forcing the zipper down.

"Damon, we're in the middle of—"

His thumb skimmed along the elastic of my panties.

"In the middle of what?" He nibbled on my ear.

"We're—"

I gasped as the tip of his middle finger pressed directly on my clit through the thin cotton. He rubbed in slow, sensual circles. I made a low sound in the back of my throat, trying to keep quiet. I didn't know how far behind the next carriage with the other riders was. He played with me expertly until I was rocking forward to meet his hand. My hips rolled unconsciously, tilting to get more of that delicious sensation.

Encouraged by my response, Damon slid his hand into my panties. My jeans were a tight fit, but there was enough room for him to maneuver. Enough room for his middle finger to slid between my lower lips. I let out a moan.

His lips returned to my throat. His bit down lightly, teething nipping at me. I let out a sharp breath. He soothed the same spot with his tongue, leaving wet trails along my skin. I shivered as he blew cool air over the bite mark.

"You better not leave marks," I warned breathlessly.

His only response was to press inside me slowly, inch by inch, taking his time. I whined, low in the back of my throat. He began pumping in and out, my wetness easing the passage. I felt myself squeezing around him, pulsing.

"Fuck, you're already so wet," he breathed.

He slid a second finger inside me, joining the first. I moaned again, quietly. My mind fogged over, forgetting about teeth marks and the riders behind us. The only thing that mattered was the motion of his fingers, that exquisite feeling of being spread open.

My hips rose and fell, urging him on. He sped up the pace, darting in and out, that rough drag of his skin against my inner walls.

Pleasure began to overwhelm me, taking hold of me relentlessly. Damon sensed it. He pressed a thumb to my clit and rubbed in a firm circle.

I choked out a cry, limbs locking up, thighs squeezing his wrist, as the pleasure crashed over me like waves. I shook and panted, fingers curling and uncurling. Sparks flew across my vision, a kaleidoscope of color beneath my closed eyelids.

Slowly, I came back to my senses. I felt Damon slip out of me. Distantly, I was aware of him putting my jeans back into place, zipping up and buttoning.

He placed a soft kiss on my lips as I continued to take in lungfuls of air. I returned the kiss before slumping against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"You're insane," I told him, still breathing heavily. "We're in public."

"We're alone in the middle of a dark tunnel," he corrected.

"Is this what I have to look forward to?" I asked. "Exhibitionism and public sex?"

"It's not my main kink," he said with a shrug. "But you haven't invited me into your bed yet, so here we are."

I snorted. "Ridiculous, insane, immature asshole."

"Straight-laced, uptight, good girl," he immediately replied.

"I just let you finger me on a carnival ride," I said. "We need to reevaluate the uptight part."

"And you need to rethink the asshole part," he said. "I haven't done a single asshole-ish thing tonight."

"True," I agreed. "Maybe I can downgrade you to a lesser insult. Jerk face or something."

He laughed and hugged me to his side as the tunnel began to light up. We were reaching the end of the ride. He helped me climb out, like a perfect gentleman.

"How about we try that maze of mirrors next?" he suggested. "Those are always fun."

"You sound like a carnival connoisseur," I said. "Do you go to a lot of them?"

"As many as I can," he said. "I'm just a big kid inside, remember?"

The maze was a lot more crowded than the tunnel of love. Damon held my hand tight to keep us from getting separated as people bumped into us.

"At least I know there's going to be no more inappropriate behavior," I said. "There's too many people around."

Damon quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"No," I said firmly.

But he still brushed his thumb back and forth along the back of my hand, like he'd been doing all night. Somehow that small touch inflamed me much the same way his intimate touches had. More so even, because of the tenderness it showed. It wasn't all about sex with Damon.

He leaned in to murmur in my ear. "Wouldn't it be hot to watch ourselves fucking against one of these mirrors?"

Well. Some of the time it wasn't all about sex.

We spent time standing in front of the distorted mirrors, making fun of ourselves as our reflections turned us squat like hobbits, then eerily tall like some creepy Slenderman.

"I like this one," Damon declared as he found a mirror that made his chest and shoulders look three times as wide. "I look like He-Man."

"Gross," I said, coming to stand in front of it. "You look like a grotesque ogre. Me, on the other hand…" I turned this way and that. "This makes my boobs look like they're Goodyear blimps. I bet you're loving that."

"Remember what I told you?" he said. "It's not about the size."

I flushed as I remembered the rest of the words he'd said. And the tone of voice in which he said them. Deep, low in his chest, seductive.

I cleared my throat and moved on quickly, not wanting to see if Damon would continue along that subject. I didn't want to have that kind of conversation surrounded by kids and pre-teens. Carnivals were supposed to be family-friendly events, after all.

I must have walked too quickly because I soon lost sight of Damon. The distorted mirrors were arranged in a maze. I found myself alone and trapped in a corner. No matter which way I turned, I couldn't find an exit. At first it just irked me. I was annoyed at myself for having gotten lost.

"Damon?" I called. "Where are you?"

Damon didn't appear. The longer I stayed trapped, the more flustered I became. The more flustered I became, the more the irritation turned into something else. I was stuck and no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find my way out. My heartbeat pounded in my throat. I hated the slight panic welling in my chest. I hated that I couldn't control my reaction.

"Damon?" I called again. "Are you there?"

It began to feel like the walls were closing in. My breathing turned heavy and labored. I looked around, taking in all sides, but everywhere I looked I only saw my own reflection, eyes wide, face pale.

"Dammit." I squeezed my eyes closed and forced myself to take in a slow breath. Calm and steady, I told my myself. Breath in. And out.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist. I yelp and jumped.

"Hey, it's okay," Damon said from behind me. "It's just me. I've got you."

I exhaled sharply. He turned me to face him.

"Are you scared?" he asked, concerned. "Are you claustrophobic? I'm sorry, I didn't know. I shouldn't have suggested a maze."

"I'm not claustrophobic," I said, feeling slightly abashed. "Not really." I smoothed my hair down, fidgeting and trying to find a way to explain it that didn't make me sound crazy or high strung. "I couldn't find an exit. I started to get annoyed and angry. And then I got upset that I was getting angry. It was so stupid. This is a kid's maze. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. I hate…" I trailed off.

"You hated that you freaked out, which freaked you out even more?" he guessed.

"I'm supposed to be the calm and collected one," I said. "I shouldn't have gotten so worked up."

"You don't always have to play it cool, Faith," Damon said.

"Yes I do."

Damon examined me closely before pulling me to his chest. "Why don't we call it a night?" he suggested.

I readily agreed, more than happy to go home. I still felt upset and ashamed.

Damon lead me out of the fairgrounds and to the car, his arm around my shoulders. When we arrived at my building, he walked me to the door. I opened it and stepped through.

"I'm not inviting you in," I told him, hand still on the knob.

He quirked a knowing smile. "Not even for a cup of coffee?"

"I know exactly what a cup of coffee leads to," I said. "I don't have sex on the first date."

"We already had sex," he pointed out with a sly smile. "Twice, depending on how you define sex."

I placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward. I turned my head at the last minute and pecked him on the cheek. The look on his face as I swung the door closed was amused.

"Does this mean you're up for more public sex?" he called through the door.

"GOOD NIGHT DAMON," I said loudly.

That man was ridiculous, insane and immature.

But he was also charming. Confident. Not to mention hot as hell.

I'd found a man who had all the qualities I liked.

That man just happened to be womanizing rock star Damon Drake.

I leaned my back against the door with a sigh. My first instinct way back at that first client event had been right.

I was in a world of trouble.