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Driven (Page 69)

“Physically, yes,” I tell him, as I lean back into the comfort of him, resting my back partially on his torso, his arm instinctively goes around me. “Emotionally,” I sigh, “I have my days. I told you, Colton, excess baggage.”

He places a kiss to the side of my head, keeping his lips pressed there. I can feel the questions he wants to ask me in our silence. What happened and how bad was it? Why an accident has baggage that makes me run from him? I don’t want to mar the night with sadness so I pinch off a piece of cotton candy and turn my body so that I face him, my bent knee resting on his thigh. I wave the piece of cotton candy in front of his face, “How sweet do you like it, Ace?” I flirt with him before I lick my bottom lip and then provocatively place the fluff of sugar between them.

He leans into me, need darkening his eyes, a salacious grin playing his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you taste sweet enough already,” he bites at the cotton candy hanging out between my lips, purposefully nipping my bottom lip, pulling on it. The quick bite of pain is replaced by a quick lick of his tongue. The low moan of pleasure that comes from the back of his throat turns me on. Makes me want to drink him in. Right here. Right now.

“I definitely like the taste of that,” he murmurs against my lips. “We just might have to wrap this up and take this with us for later.” He lazily brushes his lips against mine, “In case you need a little sweetener after I dirty you up.” I can feel his mouth curve in a smile against my lips. His suggestive words send a tightening pulse deep down in my belly. The promise of more to come with him dampens my sex and turns my soft ache into a smoldering burn.

I sigh against his lips, completely bewitched and totally enchanted by him. I lean my forehead against his, taking the time to steady myself from being overwhelmed with the emotions running rampant in me.

“So,” Colton says pulling back and pressing a soft kiss on my forehead before continuing, “we have two necessities left that must be done before we leave here.”

He raises from the bench, tucking the wrapped bag of cotton candy under his arm, a smirk on his face after looking at it, and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Oh, really? And what would those be?”

“We have to ride the Ferris wheel,” he says, tapping me on the butt playfully, “and I have to win you a stuffed animal.”

I laugh out loud as we head for the Ferris wheel. The line is short and we chat idly, surprised at how many things we have in common despite coming from such different backgrounds. How much our likes and dislikes are similar. How are taste in movies and television are alike.

We are ushered to the car and locked in place with the bar across our laps. We start to move slowly, Colton draping his arm around my shoulder. “So you never finished telling me about you.”

“What is this?” I laugh. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been put on the spot yet.”

“I’m next,” he promises, kissing my temple as I snuggle into the warmth of and security of his arms as we climb higher. He points at a vendor juggling balls on the ground below. “Tell me, Rylee. What’s your future look like? A nice husband, two point five kids and a white picket fence?”

“Hmmm, maybe. Someday. But the husband has to be hot and nice,” I kid laughing out loud. “No kids, though.”

I feel his body tense up at my words, his silence deafening, before he responds. “That surprises me. You love kids. Work with them all day. You don’t want your own?” I can hear the confusion in his voice and can feel his jaw moving as it rests on the crown of my head.

“I’ll see what fate deals me,” I tell him, hoping he’s satisfied with my answer and that he won’t pry any further. “Look!” I point out to the skyline where the top part of the full moon is just rising over the hills, glad that I have something to change the topic with. “It’s beautiful.”

“Hmm-hmmm,” he murmurs as we sit watching its ascent. “You know what the rule is when the Ferris wheel reaches the top, right?”

“No, what?” I ask pulling away from the warmth of his arms to face him.

“This,” he says before closing his mouth over mine and fisting a hand in my hair. The hunger in his kiss is so tangible that I lose myself in him and the moment. His tongue slips past my lips, licking seductively at mine. I feel in sensations: The gentle whir of the ride, the heated warmth of his fingertips whispering over my cheek, the sweet taste of cotton candy on his tongue, the hush of my name on his lips. The feeling of our marked descent has us pulling back, stepping back from the depths of the fire raging between us.

“Sweet Jesus,” Colton mutters amused, adjusting in the seat so that he can shift the seam of denim pressing against his arousal. “I react like a damn teenager around you.” He shakes his head, his embarrassment becoming of him.

“C’mon, Ace,” I say, my ego preening from my noted effect on him, “you owe me a stuffed animal.”

Thirty minutes later and several games conquered, my sides hurt from laughing at Colton’s playful antics, but I’m the proud owner of an oversized and very lopsided-looking stuffed dog. I lean up against the corner of one of the permanent buildings at the fairgrounds, one leg bent at the knee with my foot flat against the building, and my new treasured prize resting on my hip. I watch Colton play one last game, take the small prize he’s won, and hand it off to the little boy standing next to him at the booth. He ruffles the little boy’s hair and smiles at his mom before sauntering back to me. Taut muscles bunch beneath his t-shirt as he moves and his body screams that it was made for sin. It’s impossible for me to take my eyes off of him. I can see that I’m not the only one as I watch the mom’s eyes follow Colton’s back as he leaves, an appreciative look on her face.

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