“Are you going to behave now?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Good.” I soothe the stinging flesh on her ass with a slow, gentle massage that slows her breathing and loosens her tense muscles. “So very good.” I slide her panties back up her legs and fix her skirt, finally uncuffing her wrists, standing her up and turning her around.
God, she’s a vision, visibly dazed, teeth marks on her bottom lip.
“Are you going to take me home now?” she whispers.
“I have a better idea.”6LondonBrody brings me to an amusement park.
Even after he buys our tickets and leads me through the massive entrance, I still can’t believe it’s happening. The sounds of children screaming on the roller coasters awakens hope and excitement that has lain dormant in my belly for so long. I want to go watch the brightly-colored cars fly down the tracks and loop upside down. I want to watch for hours.
And Brody seems content to let me, sitting beside me on a metal bench, the two of us unmoving in the midst of the chaotic crowd.
He doesn’t say anything when I gape, tracking the progress of a car full of people as they are slowly cranked to the top of an incline and dropped, picking up enough momentum to complete a sideways spiral. My pulse races, my fingers itching for my notebook. So much time passes that I don’t realize it’s fully dark outside until Brody brings me a soft pretzel and a Coke.
“Are we actually going to ride one of the coasters or just stare at them all night?” he asks me playfully, biting into his own pretzel.
I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of his straight white teeth burying in the dough, his muscular throat working to swallow the bite. Even the hand holding the pretzel is hypnotic, because I remember what it feels like on my skin. On my bare knees, my cheek, my backside.
What exactly is happening between me and my stepfather?
We are seriously attracted to each other. That much is very, very obvious.
But it runs deeper than that. Even now, I want to climb up onto his lap and have him stroke my hair. I want to tip my face up and get a kiss. I want to whisper that forbidden D-word and feel him grow aroused. And it would feel like the most natural thing in the world.
It’s not, though.
It’s not.
I have to remember that.
This man is married to my mother and he’s already given me two orgasms.
We’ve kissed. He’s used his mouth between my legs, on my breasts.
My body is already desperate for more. Not only for the physical release, but the emotional comfort I get from his touch, the connection between us.
“What are you thinking about?” Brody asks, lowering the pretzel to his thigh.
Until he asks the question, I don’t realize I’ve been staring at him.
Specifically, his magical mouth.
Behave. He told me to behave.
What happened between us shouldn’t happen again. I might have a non-existent relationship with my mother, but I’m not the kind of person who wrecks a marriage. It’s definitely time to start reigning in my behavior.
“Um.” Sitting up straighter, I push my fall of blonde hair back and smile. “N-nothing. I was thinking we should definitely go ride one of these suckers.”
His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Let’s go.”
We walk through the busy park, the flashing lights glowing in the darkness around us. He lets me choose which one we’re going to ride and I pick one of the more classic, older rides in the park. “I always wanted to ride it when I was young, but never got the chance,” I say, as we take our place at the back of the line.
“You drew this one a lot in your notebooks.” He settles a hand on my shoulder, shooting a tingle straight down to my toes. “But you made some improvements to it. Added a waterfall and some lighting effects.”
Surprised pleasure fills my chest. “You remember that?”
His thumb massages circles into the back of my neck. “I remember everything.”
Am I imagining it? Or is the subtext that he remembers everything about me?
Wishful thinking, London. He told you to behave, remember?
“Yeah, the one thing I always think is missing from roller coasters is atmosphere. What about the music and strobe lights and smoke? There should be a storyline.”
Another long stroke of of his thumb up into my hairline. “You’re going to do it yourself one day.”
His touch is causing an answering clench between my legs. The fact that we’re being pushed into such close quarters by the people behind and in front of us really isn’t helping matters. My nipples are hard, tingling. We’re standing side by side, hips touching, but without the support of a bra, it’s impossible for him not to notice the points pushing up against the cotton of my T-shirt. The only indication he gives is some increased pressure from his massaging touch.