Page 60 of Wicked Takeover
Dante enjoyed his meal without hesitation or restraint, comfortable enough with her to be himself. He even licked his fingers until she did that for him.
She relaxed between his legs, enjoying the feel of him against her. He fed her the remaining plantains and insisted she finish her sandwich. After downing it and her beer, she sagged against his hard chest. A few stars winked through thin clouds that blurred the moon and further softened the night.
Lauren wished they could stay here forever and hated that they couldn’t. “This was nice.”
“Was?” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s not over. It’s not even close to the next level.”
…
Once Dante had cleaned up, he helped Lauren to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned into him, placing her trust and tonight’s pleasure in his hands. Nothing could have made him happier. He guided her through the quiet grounds. Gravel crunched beneath their sandals. A dog’s faint bark sounded in the distance. Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb them. It gently rustled through the bushes, trees, and flowers.
Snuggled against his side, she regarded the tranquil scene, her practicality and worries seemingly forgotten for the moment, replaced by eagerness and hunger as deep as his.
She eyed the jungle gym longer than an adult normally would, possibly expecting him to tie her to those bars and play with her lush nudity.
He didn’t.
She regarded the picnic tables with an intensity that told him she’d be perfectly happy if he took her there.
He passed them, too.
Lauren didn’t ask why, nor did she question where they were going. 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. He knew it took a lot for Lauren to put her faith in anyone, especially a guy. For her to have agreed to tonight meant the world to him.
He 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. He didn’t know how any man could do that to a woman. His father treated Dante’s mother better than he would a queen. They respected and trusted each other completely. To Dante, their behavior seemed natural and a standard he’d always set for himself.
They neared a small pond. A few benches circled it. No bushes or trees. The location was sufficiently romantic and decidedly exposed, unlike the banyan that had offered deeper shadows beneath its branches, pretty much hiding them completely.
Lauren slowed.
He guided her past the water.
Restless now, she tensed against him and scoped out the landscape, possibly wondering where they’d end up.
Their destination wasn’t far.
When Lauren saw it, she stopped.
Dante pulled her along.
She matched his pace. “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. “We’re going to ride each other.”
“On that? Get out.”
“Do you doubt me?”
“God no.”
Her frank endorsement made him grin. Hell, it boosted his testosterone level 1000 percent, which made his cock feel huge and his clothes too restrictive.
They reached the ride.
