Page 63 of Roped in Rawhide

“Had your fill of things on a stick?” My gaze feasts on Gemma as she drops the last bite of tater tot hotdish into her mouth. It’s been a treat for me to spoil her with everything she wants to eat at the Summer Spook festival.

While she chews, her eyes travel the length of my body. Her appetite appears to have a specific craving. “Is your dick on the menu?”

The persistent throbbing in my cock pushes me to agree, but these dates are meant to capture her heart. “Not tonight.”

She pouts, but quickly shrugs it off. Crumbs from her recent meal linger on her hand and she’s about to wipe it clean. I snatch her wrist, sucking the remnants from her fingers one at a time.

“Such a dirty boy.”

A muffled groan escapes me from around her pinky. “You’re too delicious to resist.”

“Are you sure that big stick in your pants isn’t up for grabs?”

It’s almost impossible to deny her, but I find the strength to steer us in the opposite direction on the fairgrounds. “I had something else in mind.”

Gemma’s stride slows to the pace of a snail as it becomes obvious that we’re headed for the two-story structure straight ahead. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think we’re going?”

“The Haunted Mansion.”

Scary shit isn’t just for autumn and Halloween. That’s what makes Summer Spook unique. It’s especially fun for those who enjoy ghosts and costumes alongside sunshine and splash pads at their festivals.

This event was another favorite for us as kids. As it turns out, Gemma and I like the same amount of horror. Just enough to satisfy those hidden desires we only speak about after dark.

Which is why I planned something special tonight. We’re already dressed the part. She didn’t question the outfits I chose for us once we arrived at the rural but popular location. Our orange prison jumpsuits are right at home here.

“I’m not sure about this.” Her voice shakes enough to set off my protective instincts.

“Since when? We used to go in every year.”

“Yeah, well…” She kicks at the rocks on the gravel path. “I went with some friends after you fluffed off and forgot about me—”

“I never forgot about you.”

“Right, sure. You just pretended to screw every woman who crossed your path to keep me at the front of your mind.” Gemma rolls her eyes. “Anyhoo, that experience was awful. People kept grabbing me. Someone pushed me up against a wall. It went well beyond my tolerance for terror. I haven’t been back since.”

Anger swells inside of me like poison. If I ever find out who’s responsible, they’ll be pissing their pants in fear.

“That won’t happen again,” I vow.

“How can you be so sure?”

Because I paid all those clowns to give us a wide berth, but that’s not important. “I’ll take care of you, Wildflower. You can trust me.”

She toys with the end of her blonde braid. “It would be nice to reinstate our tradition.”

“That’s the spirit!” My chipper tone might’ve been overkill.

Her expression turns suspicious, quirking her brow at a sharp angle. “Since when do you love the Haunted Mansion so much?”

“Since always. It didn’t get much better than you clinging onto me.”

“That’s fair,” she muses. “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll protect me?”

“And then some.”