Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“Well…” Her eyes glimmer with excitement. “When we were driving out to your father’s, I saw a carnival off one of the exits. The Ferris wheel was in the distance. And it was closer rather than farther from the city, and I want to go.” She settles in next to me on the sofa and nudges my arm. “And before you argue, it’s spur of the moment, so nobody will know we’re going except us. It’s perfectly safe.” She folds her arms across her chest and meets my gaze, all but daring me to argue.
I toss around the idea in my mind. Crowds of people, yes, but she has a point when she says nobody will know where we are going in order to follow us.
“A carnival, hmm?” I ask, deliberately dragging out my decision, teasing her a little.
She nods. “The kind with cotton candy, funnel cake, rides, and games where you can win me a stuffed animal. Come on, please? Please? Pretty please,” she says, a grin on her pretty face as she tries to pester me into agreeing.
Having just accepted my feelings for her, there is very little I wouldn’t give her while I can … as long as she is safe.
I groan, pretending to be put out at the idea … more teasing on my end before giving in.
“Pretty please with sugar on top?”
I laugh, then nod my head in agreement. “Fine. We’ll go.”
“Wait. What? Really? Thank you!” She squeals in excitement and claps her hands with glee before leaning in and kissing me hard but quickly.
Too quickly, considering I’d rather pull her down on the sofa and find myself balls deep in her wet heat.
“I’m going to change!”
She runs into her room, and while she is there, I catalogue my own clothes, deciding my jeans and a tee shirt will be fine. I holster my gun beneath the shirt just as she bounces back out to me, this time wearing a pair of light jeans, a faded gray tee shirt, and sneakers, a pair of aviator glasses dangling from her fingertips.
I grin at the sight. “Wait. I have an idea.” I stride to my duffel in her room and return with a New York Mets ball cap, plunking it down on her head, tugging on her braid for good measure. “There. We want you as disguised as possible.”
“Not that I think anyone will recognize me but okay.” She pats the brim of the hat, her big eyes peeking out from beneath.
She wrinkles her nose, her expression fucking cute.
“Mark my words, no one will recognize me. Today we’re just a normal couple out for a day of fun.”
And I intend to savor every last second.
* * *
Summer
I am having a blast. I can’t recall the last time I went to a carnival or festival for the pure fun of it, not to perform and entertain. The day is warm, the sun overhead as Ben and I walk around the site, arm in arm. Wanting to take advantage of my time here, I coax him on every ride imaginable, from the Ferris wheel I saw from the highway to the other rides like the Round Up and Scrambler, to the more sedate carousel.
Ben is a great sport, not once complaining about the type of ride I’ve cajoled him onto or all the junk food I eat. Our current stop is the cotton candy stand, where I watch a woman turn spun sugar into a coated sticky delicious treat.
Ben hasn’t let me pay for a thing, so after he takes care of buying my latest indulgence, we walk to an empty bench and take a seat. I scoop a finger full of candy and hold it out for him to taste.
His heavy-lidded eyes meet mine as he grasps my wrist, lifts my hand, and swirls his tongue around the soft, sugary treat, pulling my finger into his mouth and biting down on the tip. An electric jolt travels straight to my sex, and I am unable to control the low moan that escapes my throat, my nipples tightening, moisture pooling between my thighs.
“You’re a bad girl,” he says in a husky voice, his gaze hot on me.
I grin in reply. “You started it.”
“I’d finish it, too, if we weren’t sitting in a public place.”
I squirm in my seat, my sex damp and desire flooding through me.
“Excuse me.” Two young girls walk over, interrupting us.
“Yes?” Ben asks.
“Hi,” I say, using a tone warmer than my bodyguard had.
“Umm, aren’t you Summer Michelle? I saw you on The Morning Show.”
I purse my lips in thought. A part of me wants to give the girls what they want, but this is my day out with Ben. I assured him we are safe, and I intend to keep us that way.
“No, I’m not. But you’re not the first people to think that,” I say, trying to lighten their obvious disappointment. They were hoping for a mini-celebrity sighting.