Visions (Cainsville 2)

"Stop. I said yes. You used a condom. If you keep apologizing, I'm going to presume that means you don't ever want to do that again, and I'm really hoping that's not the case because . . ." My tongue slipped between my teeth. "Hell and damn, that was good."

He smiled, but I could tell he was still worrying he'd messed up, been too eager, disappointed me.

Since we'd first met, Ricky had pursued me with the confidence of a man twice his age. Now that he'd succeeded, the doubts and vulnerability peeked through, and I knew they'd vanish again when he got his footing, but it was fascinating to see, more contradictions adding to his endless tangle of them.

He kissed me then, one hand behind my head, cushioning it from the ground, the other under my ass. When a car passed, he broke the kiss only long enough to make sure the long grass hid us. Then another noise stopped him: my grumbling stomach.

"It's reminding me that I promised you dinner," he said. "And I should damn well deliver before I try for more."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Dinner? Or more sex?"

I laughed. "I mean that after lying on the grass, I'm not in any condition to be taken to a restaurant."

"Would you settle for pizza? Delivered?"

I slid from under him and sat up. "Delivered where?"

"Here, of course."

We were in the middle of nowhere, on an empty road surrounded, I was sure, by more empty roads.

"If you could manage that--" I began.

"--you'd spend the night with me? Yes, you have work in the morning. I'll get you back in time. But if I can manage to get pizza delivered here, will you let me find us a place for the night? I know that's not what you had in mind."

"I--"

He cut me off with a quick kiss. "I aim to impress, and I need a bed to do it. Besides, you don't believe I can get a pizza delivered out here, so . . ."

"Go on and try."

"We have a deal?"

"We do."

He had to walk to his bike to get decent cell service. Then he used his phone to look up a place. He called one. I heard a male voice answer. Ricky said he had the wrong number, hung up, and called another place. He got a woman this time and shifted into full charm mode, chatting away. After about two exchanges, I knew he had her. It was too damned easy for him. So I decided to make it tougher.

I started unbuttoning my blouse. He caught the movement and looked over. He could have looked away. He didn't. As I stripteased, his eyes never left me. Nor did he falter for one goddamned second in his other conquest, even as the growing bulge in his jeans told me my performance was not unappreciated. Less than two minutes later, he hung up.

"Pizza's on its way, isn't it?" I said.

"Yep. Twenty minutes. Which gives you plenty of time to finish." He took a step forward. "Unless you want help."

"Not yet," I said.

"You'll tell me when?"

"You'll wait until I do?"

He grinned, his look sending heat through me. "That might require ropes. Strong ropes."

"Another time," I said. "For now, you'll wait. Right there. Until I'm ready."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and eased back to watch the show.

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