Chapter Fourteen
The haunted house committee had always done a great job. As advertised, Elle didn’t scream, but she definitely jumped into his arms several times, which made Harley want to tip the creepy actors generously. They had to stick their hands in some really disgusting viscous liquid filled with fake body parts to get through one door, and when an ax-wielding headless ghost literally chased them down a long hallway, Elle left him in the dust. When he caught her, he yanked her beneath a barrier while nobody was looking, then behind a black drape and into a small, undecorated room strewn with clothing.
“Thanks for protecting me so well back there,” he said. “Rat.”
“Hey, I only had to run faster than one person and there was only one other person. Where are we?”
“I used to work this gig, remember? We’re behind the scenes. One of the rooms they use for costume changing. Believe me, I’d like to change your costume.”
“There’s a fly in that oatmeal.”
She giggled as he backed her up to a wall and lowered his head.
“Yeah, I have to go kiss a whole bunch of girls. I only have time to practice right now.”
Their heads bobbed and their tongues swirled. He reached beneath her dress again but this time he lifted the skirt past her underpants and found the swell of her breast. The hard bud of her nipple beneath the smooth bra fabric met his fingers and elicited a huge sigh from her.
“You’re pretty good at this, Holt. I can’t keep up with your surprising fingers.”
“It’s a good thing. I don’t think I could handle equal treatment at the moment. Trust me; you don’t need to touch anything.”
He deepened the kiss and suckled her bottom lip, stroking her breast until she wriggled and twisted away.
“No more. Wait or there’ll be nothing to wait for. This is where my plan is diverging from yours.”
He laughed. “As long as they come back together...”
“I have one more thing to say.” She straightened and smoothed her dress. “You’d better not kiss anyone else tonight the way we practiced just now.”
“Hmmmm.” He kissed her chin and then her nose. “Do I detect jealousy?”
“Darn right.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had someone be actively jealous. My ego kind of likes it.”
“Yeah? Well keep your ego in check. A little jealousy goes a long way.”
The lines were always steady at the booth in the evenings, but most of the kissers were friends of the guys in the booth at that hour. Grandkids brought their grandmas for fun, and seventy percent of the people paid their dollar for a hug and were happy. But there were always a few serious customers, and Harley handled his share. In the end it was all in great good fun, and the money went to the festival committee so the cause was worthwhile.
Harley kissed his mom and Chris paid him a dollar for a high five. Edith came by for a hug, and then a string of ten high school senior girls paid their two bucks for kisses with their “favorite race car driver,” which he had to admit was sweet. But it was after several of the college-aged girls who worked at the Gas Stop, the Come Again, and the diner left with smiles that Elle showed up. When one of the young waitresses returned on a dare from her friends, Elle smiled sweetly at her.
“You might want to come back. I’m going to be here for a little while.”
At that she held up a fist full of tickets.
“What the heck?” Harley started laughing. “How many do you have?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Elle! That’s fifty bucks.”
“My boss pays me well.”
“Aw, honey,” he sputtered at the smirk on her face. “Are you seriously that envious of me doing this?”
She tilted her head and chastised him with roll of her eyes.
“For crying out loud, of course not. I love a civic minded guy. I just like kissing you.”
He happily gave her the twenty-five kisses. She let others take their turns in between, but that didn’t stop what started as silliness from escalating into tongues and murmurs when nobody else stood in line. Elle doled out her tickets through the final half hour until, by the time Stevie turned up to take his shift, Harley was ready to skip the fireworks and drag Elle into the nearest room he could find.
But when he asked if she wanted to skip the display her refusal was unequivocal.
“I want fireworks. That’s what I came for.”
“And you don’t think I can provide fireworks?”
“I have zero doubt you can. But what I can provide is anticipation.”
“That’s not a skill. That’s a torture tactic.”
She only smiled.
They spread their blanket on a side of Klein Hill that was bordered by sparse trees and glacial boulders but still afforded a clear view of the sky. Harley’s libido, if not his desire, had calmed during the walk to the spot. Elle had a peaceful influence, chattering away softly about her home and family in Minnesota, telling him about the first time she’d made an engine run after reading a book about the problem and diving in on her own. She jabbered about their local restaurant equivalent to Dottie’s and something about mascot birds who talked to the customers.
She sat on the blanket and he lay with his head in her lap, pleasure at his beck and call while her fingers kneaded gently across his scalp and traced his features as if she were committing them to memory by touch.
From her he got a sense she’d come from a loving family similar to his only bigger. Dad passed away, a super-talented sister, and four protective brothers with Dewey being the worst. They all expected a lot from each other. They all knew each other’s business. They came running when there was trouble and when there was only perceived trouble. She’d been sheltered and cosseted but also teased for being a tomboy and a gearhead —if not by her family then by her friends. He finally decided that she had been loved and nowhere near abused, but she certainly had learned to be exacting with herself.
She stopped talking when the fireworks started, but she did stretch out beside him to watch. He loved her there. He loved wanting her and, for the moment, waiting for her. In five short weeks he’d gone from a guy with a garage who had no time for anything but cars, to a man who’d give it all up if this woman asked him to.
But she wouldn’t ask him to. And that was the magic she’d talked about.
“Whoa! Look at the heart in the ring!”
Elle broke into his thoughts, and he stared at the fading firework, sharing her wonder. It had been ages since he’d thought of this display as more than something you did because everybody else did it, too.
She turned her head and kissed him below the ear. “Thanks. This is nice.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“You brought me.”
“That is true. And, upon reflection, I think it’s good. I like seeing you relaxed.”
“People tell me all the time I move too much. I guess I do sometimes.” She nuzzled him again.
He shrugged into the kiss and added one of his own. Two more and the fireworks were all but forgotten. Harley rolled to his side and threw his leg over one of hers, nestling his upper thigh between hers. Their kiss turned hot, wet and urgent in seconds, heightened by the colorful umbrellas exploding above their heads.
Slowly he shifted their positions until he lay fully atop her, and she grasped his glutes to pull him close.
“We wouldn’t be the only ones to sneak this in during the show,” he whispered.
“I want to,” she replied, undulating her hips. “But not here, even though the legend says we have to. Not the first time.”
“Okay. I know a place we can get to quickly. The fireworks will be over in about twelve minutes.”
“How badly do you want to watch them?” she asked.
“Elle, I was willing to skip them all together, remember?”
“Then take me to this nearby place now.”
“Oh, baby, it’s a deal. And don’t worry. You’ll recognize it.”
The walk to Dylan’s garage took only a few minutes. When the echoes from the finale had faded, Harley stopped in front of the door.
“Ever necked in a parked race car?”
She stared up at him, wonder turning to obvious passion, but she said nothing. When a minute later he turned on the light in the garage and #74 glistened beneath the halo, however, she laughed joyfully and threw her arms around his neck.
“I think this was exactly my plan. You’re a genius.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
His teasing words sparked the end of Elle’s reserve. She practically pushed him through the door and accosted him before he could close it behind them. Jumping into his arms, she wrapped her legs around his hips.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she said. “Look, it works.”
“Oh, baby, you can say that again.” He pulled her bottom against him so she could feel exactly how well it was working.
He backed up until he rested against the side of the car, and let her slide down his body. By the time her feet reached the floor, her dress had ridden up her thighs and bunched between them. He felt for the hem and whisked it up and off. She responded by doing exactly the same with his T-shirt. Skin to skin they explored, his lips to her shoulders, her tongue to the flat brown nipple on his smooth, bronzed chest.
“You’re a really gorgeous male, in case you’re wondering,” she said, lifting her head to meet his lips with hers and cut off any need to reply.
The build-up wasn’t slow. All the fires had been stoked in the hours before this, and both of them reached for deeper kisses and places for their hands to wander. When Elle found the snap for his jeans and rasped the zipper down, he had no need to let her take her time. Together they shoved his pants to the floor where he kicked off his sandals and yanked the jeans past his ankles and feet.
Elle kicked off the rhinestone-studded flip-flops she wore and the two of them stood with nothing but soft cotton and scraps of satin between them. He reached around and lifted her into his arms, kissing her while he carried her to the front of the Monte Carlo. Almost reverently he set her on the hood.
“Oh! Be careful, Harley. The car.”
“The car is fine. Sit there and let me remember you all gorgeous on my hood.”
She leaned back, stroking the sleek yellow finish, and he all but ran to the side of the room where a stack of clean, thick cotton drop cloth blankets waited. He grabbed two, turned around and nearly lost his breath. A vision of every male’s fantasy lounged on his car, one leg bent, her foot curved down the front of the hood, her breasts thrust upward, inviting him to take her.
“I’ve seen the calendars in every garage I’ve ever visited,” she murmured. “I’ve always hated them, but for you—I’ll be Miss June.”
“And July, August, September…”
He tossed the blankets in a semi-flat heap in front of the car and bent over Elle to kiss her thigh. Moving upward he reached the white panties no longer just a tease beneath her clothing, and ran his fingers around the waistband. She lifted her hips so he could pull them off and then unclasped her own bra.
She was exquisite. He curved his hands around her waist and slid them up until he could cup her breasts. She sat up and pushed at the waistband of his underwear until she worked them as far as she could. He stepped out of them and she grinned. “Looks like we definitely both want this.”
“Observant girl.”
He kissed her everywhere he could. First one breast, then the other until she moaned with pleasure. He moved down her body, dallying at her navel, pushing her back so her elbows rested on the hood and he could kiss the top of each long, slender leg. She wriggled her breathing accelerating the longer he teased. Finally he brushed one sweet kiss between her legs and she groaned out a release.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Oh yeah.”
He touched her in the most intimate way he could without entering her and when she cried out, nearly to the edge, her legs trembling her nipples peaked and ready, he stopped, pulled her up and lifted her off the car.
“Together,” he said. “Then I get my fun with you.”
“He brought her to the soft pile of blankets and grabbed for his jeans, pulling his wallet free of his pocket in a smooth motion. Seconds later he tore open one of several foil packets he’d gambled on putting there, but before he could extract the condom, Elle took the square and did it herself.
“My turn.”
She stroked his length and knelt so she could cover him, slowly, carefully, fully. This was not a job he’d ever relegated to someone else before. The intimacy almost did him in.
“Jeez, Elle, you don’t have any time to play.” His voice came out a little weirdly strangled.
“Then get down here, you.”
They twined themselves together like magnets and she gasped again when he pressed against her core. “You okay?” he asked. “Ready?”
They slid together answering the question for both of them, and he let her set the rhythm, which she did as if they’d known each other’s bodies for years. Easy, gentle, and then harder, their lovemaking soared until she arched beneath him and called his name. He followed moments later and lost himself in a bright world of ecstasy he’d never found so quickly or easily before. He only returned to earth when her legs came around his hips again and she drew him back. When he could breathe normally he lifted up and met her eyes. They shone with emotion, but she smiled.
“Wow.”
He fell to his side and gathered her close. “And that was just the opening act,” he said.
“Promise? Although, I don’t know if we can top that. Even my fantasy plans weren’t that good.
“So it was good for you, too.”
“No. Good was at the bottom of the scale I’d use for that.”
“If you want my ego to stay in check you’d better stop saying things like that.”
“Nah. That was spectacular enough to be ego-worthy.”
He wanted to tell her he loved her at that moment. Wanted to push this and make her say she loved him too and they could stay here with the yellow race car and live to make love. But he knew better. He did love her, but saying so for the first time like this would be like saying it when you were high. What would make her believe it wasn’t just the hot heat of the moment?
He didn’t expect it when she tensed beside him and pulled away, gasping but this time not with pleasure.
“What?” He sat, alarmed, and grasped her shoulders “Honey, what happened?”
She pointed to the car. “Harley, there’s something wrong with those tires.”