by Tina Donahue
“Nothing.” She bit into her Cubano and made a throaty noise that said she liked it.
Uh-uh, she wasn’t getting away with that. “Come on, tell me.” He ran his hand up her naked thigh, stopping short of her pussy.
Lauren swallowed. Her lips were shiny with juice from the ham and pork. A smudge of mustard stained her lower lip. Dante wanted to lick it off but didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not until he got an answer.
Finally, she said, “This is really good.”
He pulled back his hand. “If you don’t want to talk, just say—”
“Cuffs,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“I thought you had cuffs in the basket. Maybe even a blindfold.” She shrugged. “And sex toys.”
Wow. Dante liked how she kept surprising him. He cupped his rod and nuts. “My toys go everywhere I do. As far as a blindfold’s concerned…”
With his napkin between his hands, Dante whipped the fabric over until it was narrow enough to cover her eyes.
“Come here,” he ordered.
Lauren lowered her sandwich from her mouth. Dante’s napkin looked ominous somehow, exciting too. Swallowing hard, she lowered her Cubano and leaned toward him.
The moment he put the napkin over her eyes, plunging her into full darkness, Lauren’s other senses kicked in. She tasted the lingering tang of the mustard and the saltiness of the ham. The heavenly fragrance of pork and cheese mingled with the sultry air and Dante’s scent. Male and musky. One thousand percent man.
Shivering in delight, she heard the ends of the napkin rasp against each other as he tied them. Leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. 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.
She wondered if that person would eventually come here. If he or she would see what Dante was doing. He’d lifted her skirt to her waist, tucking it in the band so it’d stay up, exposing her cunt. Warm air licked her damp folds. The paper bag crinkled. She flinched.
“Easy,” Dante said. A moment later, he ran the edge of a plantain fry across her lips and whispered, “Eat.”
Lauren munched on the mouthwatering fry, sweet and salty, crispy on the outside, soft in the middle. Reaching his fingers, she licked salt from them, wanting to taste him.
He took Lauren’s sandwich from her and brushed the edge of it against her mouth. Obediently, she took a bite but forgot to chew. Dante’s other hand was on her curls, his thumb stroking her nub.
She whimpered. Rubbing lightly, he ordered, “Eat. Or this stops.”
Damn. 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, knowing her appetite pleased Dante rather than putting him off. Her bites and chews kept time with her mounting arousal. All too soon, it captured all of her attention. Her pussy was beyond congested, needing immediate relief. Her body burned for completion. When he offered more of her sandwich, she pushed it away.
Dante pressed his cheek to hers, his stubble deliciously rough against her skin. “Had enough?”
“Of the food. Not you.” Never you. There wasn’t enough time left in Lauren’s life to ever get her fill of him.
He kissed her ear and eased back. The foil rattled slightly. He must have dropped what was left of her Cubano on it. In the next moment, Dante eased her down to the blanket and dragged Lauren’s arms above her head. He held her wrists in one hand and rested his other on her naked belly, his fingers dangling over the edge 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, each brush of the breeze underscored how vulnerable she was, how deliciously bared. Every touch from him had her sighing in delight.
If anyone came by now she and Dante were seriously screwed and not only because of what they were doing. Lauren doubted even a crowd of voyeurs or every cop on the force could have encouraged her to stop. This was too wicked to resist. She gritted her teeth to muffle her throaty groans and tried to delay her climax.
No good. Her body knew what it had to have. So did her heart. It opened even more to Dante when it shouldn’t have but Lauren couldn’t help herself.
As he stroked her clit soft, hard then soft again, the pressure between her legs built, becoming intolerable yet wholly desired. She tensed and held her breath. Dante rubbed even faster.
Lauren let out a low moan and came joyously, her back arching with the force of her stunning pleasure. The waves of warmth and sensations left her trembling and weak. Her chest heaved with her struggle to take in enough air.
He leaned over her, the ends of his hair skimming her cheeks. “Doing okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mind if I eat?”
Hell no. Lauren spread her legs, offering her pussy to him, wanting his cock in her mouth, his balls dangling above her upper lip so she could smell them.
Rather than straddling her and getting to it, he scooted back. Foil crinkled. The bag rustled.
She whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Eating.”
It sounded as if his mouth was full. She pulled off the blindfold and propped herself on her elbows. Dante finished a swig of beer and dove back into his Cubano. On her hands and knees, Lauren crawled to him. She licked mustard from the corner of his mouth. “I thought you were going to eat me…I thought we’d eat each other.”
A grin spread across his face. “Later—don’t ask when.”
Her mouth closed. She sat on her heels, content to watch him enjoy his meal without hesitation or restraint, so comfortable with her he could be himself. He even licked his fingers until Lauren took his hand and did it for him.
She relaxed between his legs as he fed her the rest of the fries and insisted she finish her sandwich. After downing it and her beer, she sagged against his hard chest. A few stars winked through the thin clouds that blurred the moon, softening the night even more.
Wishing they could stay here forever, knowing they couldn’t, she murmured, “This was nice.”
“Was?” Dante leaned down and whispered in her ear, “It’s not over. It’s not even close to the next level.”
With his arm around Lauren’s waist, Dante guided her through the grounds. The area was so quiet he heard gravel crunching beneath their sandals before they reached more grass. In the distance, a dog’s faint barking rang out. Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb them as it hushed through the bushes, trees and flowers.
Snuggled against his side, she regarded the tranquil scene, her practicality and worries apparently forgotten for the moment, replaced by curiosity and a hunger as deep as his own. He watched her eyeing the jungle gym, possibly thinking he’d tie her to it then play with every part of her delectable body. When he didn’t, she studied each of the picnic tables they approached as though he’d take her there.
They passed them too.
Lauren didn’t ask why, nor did she question. 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. Dante knew it took a lot for Lauren to put her faith in anyone, especially a guy. For her to have even agreed to tonight meant the world to him. She had faith that he’d do the right thing and wouldn’t deliberately hurt her.
Dante 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. How any man could do that to a woman, he didn’t know. Dante had watched the way his father treated his mother, the respect they had for each other. To him, it seemed natural and a standard he’d always set for himself.
Lauren’s pace slowed when she caught sight of the small pond just ahead. The only things circling it were a few benches. No bushes or trees. Dante wondered if she thought he’d head there. The location was sufficiently romant
ic and decidedly exposed, unlike the banyan that had offered deeper shadows beneath its branches, pretty much hiding them completely. When he walked Lauren past the pond, her body tensed against his. Restless now, she kept glancing from side to side, scoping out the landscape, surely wondering where they’d stop.
It wasn’t far.
Her steps slowed when she saw it, forcing Dante to pull her along. Lauren finally matched his pace and breathed, “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 in a brief hug. “We’re going to ride each other.”
“On that? Get out.”
“Do you doubt me?”
“God no,” she breathed.
Her frank endorsement made him grin. Hell, it boosted his testosterone level by a thousand percent, which made his cock feel huge and his clothes too restrictive. Reaching the ride, he put the basket on the concrete then vaulted over the short fence. “Come on, I’ll help you over.” He offered Lauren his hand.
She gave him a look that said not a chance. Studying the fence, she strolled around its perimeter until she’d reached the gate and entered the usual way.
So much for shedding all of her practicality. Before Dante was through, he wanted Lauren as uninhibited as he was.
Joining him, she eyed the ride. “Does it work?”
He placed her hand 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 then captured her mouth, plunging his tongue deeply inside. Lauren made a faint noise of surprise before suckling his tongue as though it were the best thing she’d ever tasted. With her arms wreathed around his neck, she 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, drawing his thumb over her nipple. She pushed her body into his, ground her pussy against his cock and dug her fingers into his shoulders, tugging him closer.
So much for being cautious. On a husky growl, he deepened their kiss and squeezed her boob. Her moan said she liked that. They kept trying to get closer to each other, eventually staggering back and forth as they enjoyed one helluva deep, wet, prolonged kiss.
He broke it before she did, needing air. Lauren rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, “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.
Dante pulled her forward. “You’ll like this better.” He stopped at one of the bench-like seats that had high panels on either side decorated with a fairy prince and princess.
Lauren made a face. “That’s the old people’s seat.”
“Not with me here it isn’t. No, don’t sit.”
She straightened. “Why not? Wait. Where are you going?”
To start the ride, hopefully. The control panel was in a podium to the right where the operator stood. Dante dug the instructions out of his back pocket and tried to read them in the gloom. At last, he turned on his cell phone, using its light.
Lauren gripped one of the poles and leaned 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.
“Gabe gave you that?” she asked.
Another friend in local government had. “I just 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 finally flicked the switch. The motor hummed and the carousel started to turn slowly. No lights. No music.
Blastoff.
Pocketing the instructions, he strode to the ride and hopped on. Lauren was several feet away now, one hand on the bench to steady herself, the other waving furiously as though to make certain he saw her. Suppressing more laughter, he moved past the bobbing horses and reached her side.
She looked at him in what appeared to be awe, her expression filled with tenderness and hunger. “What now?” she murmured.
Dante didn’t have time for words. As quickly as he could, he unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them and his stretchy boxers down and plopped on the bench, his cock so rigid and ready the damn thing pointed up at her.
Lauren licked her lips.
Before she got the wrong idea and fell to her knees, he pulled a condom from his pocket. Once he’d rolled it down his length, he ordered, “Hop on.”
With an indecent smile, Lauren gripped his shoulder, using him for support. She lifted her skirt to the middle of her belly. Her curls glistened in the available light, showing Dante how wet she was. Oh baby. His body pulsed with need. She was about to straddle him when he said, “No. Not that way.” His words caught with his crazy arousal. He cleared his throat. “Turn around.”
Her expression questioned but she didn’t say anything. She turned slowly, obviously uncertain of her footing. “I have you,” he said, resting his hands on her hips. “I won’t let you fall.”
She looked over. “I know that.”
Her obvious faith made Dante feel more worthy than he had in a long time. He returned her soft smile.
“Ready?” she asked.
“You can’t imagine.”
With her back to him and his hands supporting her, she straddled Dante’s legs. He drew in a deep breath at her cradling his rod, guiding it to her pussy, his crown sliding over her silky folds. Shit, she was beyond wet. He groaned in delight then couldn’t make another sound as her body sank down, her pussy slowly swallowing his shaft.
God. Her tightness and heat caressed like nothing else could. Impatient, he jerked his hips, pushing the last of his rod inside her.
Lauren’s head fell forward. She made sounds that were just this side of wild.
Wanting more—hell, demanding everything—he pressed his face against her shoulder and pulled her tee up above her bra. Her back arched. Dante frowned. She was wearing too many fucking clothes. Not wanting to take the time to figure out where the bra’s clasp might be, he pulled the cups aside and down, freeing her lavish breasts.
Their weight and her tightened nipples undid Dante. On a coarse growl, he fondled her roughly, just as he knew she liked and he preferred. Lauren gasped in delight then whispered something he didn’t quite catch. He jerked his hips again, wanting to be deeper, to burrow as far as he could within her.
Tightening her cunt around his cock, Lauren lifted her body from his then came right back down.
Blood pounded in his ears from the friction she’d created. Every part of Dante was so sensitive he had to grit his teeth to keep from bellowing in delight.
Lauren rode him with true abandon, her actions proving she cared only about this and them, not the rest of the world. It swirled by as the carousel turned, the vegetation and long expanses of grass nothing more than shadowed blurs. He squeezed her breasts then ran his hand down her torso to her thatch of hair and clit.
When he stroked the hard little nub, Lauren froze briefly. Then on a low lusty moan, she continued to pump as he rubbed her. The bench creaked with their movements. A sudden gust of wind whisked past. Their scents mingled. The soft
noises they made blended, creating beautiful night music.
Dante fought climax. Lauren did too. She slowed down and gulped air, her body shivering with unmistakable need. After calming somewhat, she sped up as though fearful she’d lose the precious feelings, her actions confirming that she needed to drive herself and him over the edge. At last, it neared, as unstoppable as each minute that ticked by.
They soared and tumbled together, his growl, her moan in perfect harmony, their bodies damp with perspiration, their strained breaths breaking the silence before floating away into the night.
Chapter Eight
Lauren slouched in her office chair, her emotions a mess. Before her evening in the park with Dante, she’d been falling too fast and hard for him. Since then…
You can’t do this.
She’d kept saying the same to herself that night.
After she and Dante had caught their second wind and kissed for minutes, he’d brought her to the horse she’d petted. He’d helped her on the dumb thing, slapped its flank and barked, “Go Bessie!”
Lauren figured he must have seen a lot of old Hollywood Westerns when he’d been young. As far as rides went, Bessie was beyond lame, doing nothing more than sliding up and down a pole.
It was magical.
Dante stood at Lauren’s side content to watch her have a good time. When they finally left, they’d strolled arm-in-arm back to his pickup, pausing frequently to hug.
There hadn’t been anything sexual about those moments, which made them even more enthralling. Their silence was comfortable rather than awkward, neither of them trying to entertain the other.
Leaving him to go home was one of the hardest things Lauren had ever done. She’d wanted to wake up with him in the morning even as she warned herself to cool it. He wasn’t ever going to be hers. He was simply a great guy and kept proving it.
A few days ago, he’d offered a check to help with her bills, which led to their first argument. She started it, and he refused to participate.
“Come on,” he’d murmured, wagging the check so she’d take it. “You need this. I don’t.”
