One Night Only (5 page)

The ride began to move, crawling slowly for the first few seconds. “Yeah, I'm more of a wild ride girl myself,” I said lightly as I rested my hands on the silver safety bar.

The momentum built, intermittent screams beginning around us as the ride grew to full swing. I smiled as gravity and inertia yanked us forward and backward, ramming us into each other as our car spun wildly at unpredictable intervals. I let out an involuntary shriek as we whipped into an uncontrolled spin that pressed me against Travis's hard body. He grinned at me, and the characteristic adrenaline the ride had elicited rushed straight to my pussy.

My hand landed on Travis's thigh a few moments later as the ride jammed us together again, and I turned my head to maneuver my mouth near his ear. “Do you come to the fair a lot?” I almost had to shout over the noise of the wind, the ride, and the screams of our fellow riders.

He nodded. “My parents own a business that sells farm machinery and livestock equipment. They rent a space in the machinery lot for display, and I help them staff it. So I spend a lot of time here.”

Our car jolted, and conversation was suspended as we flew into a vortex-like spiral. I squealed, breathless with laugher by the time the car pitched the opposite direction and held us in a vigorous swing from side to side. I looked back at him.

“I see,” I said in response to his last comment. I saw the conductor reach for the lever that would bring the ride to its eventual end, and I moved my mouth close to Travis's ear again. “So, Travis,” I said imitating his earlier inflection. I paused, feeling the ride begin to slow down. “If you find yourself so inclined to show me, I'd love to take a look at your equipment.” I set my hand on his thigh again, higher up this time, and bit my lip as I resisted the urge to slide it up to his crotch and grasp the bulge I was almost sure would be there.

Travis's jaw clenched, and I saw him reach for my wrist. My breath caught when he touched it, sliding my hand up himself to
position it on the hard cock beneath his jeans. My pussy spilled over as our car rose and dipped on the platform, the speed decreasing until we came to a stop.

I shook myself as Travis lifted the safety bar, and we both stood up. We didn't exchange a word as I followed him off the ride and back down the steps. As our boots hit the grass, he took my hand and led me to the edge of the midway, out of the plethora of blinking lights into the quieter fairgrounds, past buildings still lit up but lacking the bustle they had claimed during the daylight hours.

He walked me into the darkened machinery area, the motionless collection of gleaming metal behemoths surrounded by silence in the sparse glow of the few thirty-five-foot lights surrounding the lot. We walked past cutters and plows and grain augers to a cluster of livestock trailers arranged on the grass.

The smaller-sized fully enclosed livestock trailer stood mostly in shadow, one corner of the silver metal gleaming with the reflection of a distant light. Travis lowered the door and turned to me. Before I could step forward, he pushed into me and wrapped his arms around my waist as his tongue slid against mine with a promise that left me breathless.

He broke away and gestured in invitation, and I stepped up into the trailer, the echo of boot on metal sounding loud in the hot stillness. Travis climbed in behind me and closed the door. Then he reached for me in the darkness, his mouth on mine as I lowered myself to the floor, pulling him on top of me. He removed his hat and set it off to the side.

Despite the temperature, the metal against my back was cool, spiking the heat between us with a contrast like sweet and savory together. Travis worked the buttons of the sleeveless blouse I wore, and I arched my back as he pulled my bra off and
lowered his mouth to a nipple. I sighed as he reached to pull open my cutoffs.

Backing up, Travis pulled my shorts and panties off, and I gasped as he dove without warning between my legs, his mouth warm on my pussy before I could catch my breath. His tongue was insistent, strong, enthusiastic without being the least bit impatient, and I moaned as it was instantly obvious that Travis was a man who loved to eat pussy. A squeal as involuntary as the one on the tilt-a-whirl escaped me as I squirmed, and my nerve endings started to tingle with the orgasm I knew was imminent. Travis rested a hand on my belly, and I took a breath, feeling suspended for a moment before my scream shattered the air as he made me come with his tongue, my body thrashing against the metal beneath me as I bucked and wailed and clutched at his hair, my voice echoing off the walls of our tiny aluminum chamber.

Travis rose up to his knees, ripping open his fly as I panted beneath him. I whimpered at the sight of the rock-hard cock that sprang from his jeans, running my hands over the sheen of sweat that covered my body as I arched my back. He pulled a condom from his pocket, and I smiled.

He noticed. “I like to keep one on me, just in case.” His smile was a bit sheepish as he shrugged.

“Seems to be paying off tonight.” My voice was still breathless. Travis was still for a moment, and so that he didn't get the wrong idea—that I felt slighted by the thought of his doing this on a regular basis, that I was offended by the idea of his being with other women—I told him, truthfully: “I do the same thing.”

He grinned back then, and the shared understanding of what we both wanted brought us ironically closer right then, the purity of our connection strengthened in the understood
congruence of our intention. I took the package from him and ripped it open, and his breath hitched as I slid the rubber down his hard cock. The second I was done he pushed me back, barely giving me time to whisper “Fuck me” before he plunged into my body and my hips rose to meet him, his hand cushioning the back of my head against the hard, cool floor.

I screamed again as Travis pounded me, the echo of metal reverberating around us. Through the slots in the side of the trailer I could see the sky glider inching along in the distance, and I smiled at the forgotten frustration of hours before when I'd caught sight of him from up in the air.

Travis ran his other hand through my hair, and I turned my head to catch his thumb lightly between my teeth, running my tongue up his salty skin as his pace increased and he came inside me, grasping my hair as I felt his muffled groan against my shoulder. I lay beneath him, reveling in the deep relaxation of my body as he kissed my neck gently and lifted himself from me.

After we were dressed, Travis opened the door, and I jumped to the grass and turned back while he closed it.

“Livestock trailer,” he said with a grin at me as he secured the door, nodding at the trailer.

But I knew what it was. I smiled in the darkness. I didn't tell him I was from here, that I had grown up on a farm thirty miles from the spot where we stood. Really there was nothing in the rows of giant equipment surrounding us that I couldn't identify. When my brothers and I were kids we were privy to perpetual reminders not to play on or near the machinery—an understandable reprimand given the danger farm equipment could pose under the guise of its deceivingly innocuous appearance.

We walked back out to the fairgrounds, toward the midway where we stopped just before the whirlwind of lights and sounds.

Travis turned to me. “Have a safe trip home, city girl,” he said, tilting his hat up as he bent to kiss me.

I smiled and kissed him back, bypassing for the last time the chance to correct him. He probably didn't encounter too many “city girls” at the fair, and I'd let him keep the fantasy—even as I knew, deep down, that I wasn't one either. We set off in different directions, and I pulled my phone out to text Isabel. When I looked over my shoulder, he did too, and he grinned and waved. I waved back, both of us bidding good-bye to the “city girl” who was as much a figment of my imagination as she was of his.

 

 

 

 

 

T
he first day I saw him, he was standing on the subway platform, a few feet to the left and ahead of me slightly. There was something about his neck just where it met his collar; I wanted to know what that muscle felt like between my teeth, under my tongue. I wiggled through the crowd, trying to get a closer look. The train screamed to a halt, throwing open the doors before I could get my eye-candy fix. I rushed into the same car, but lost him in the shuffle. As I was leaving the car at my stop, I caught a glimpse of smoldering eyes and a half-hidden face as I scanned the car one more time. Smiling, I filed it under “Interesting” and moved into my day.

He had faded from my thoughts when he reappeared a week later. He stood in exactly the same spot, no suit this time, But a worn leather jacket and, heaven help me, dark indigo denim. I jostled to get closer, without much luck. He turned his head as the train groaned to a stop in front of us and our eyes met. Pinned by his dark gaze, I watched his lips curve slightly and
his face register my interest. Caught, I flushed and looked away but was swept into the car by the people around me. I tried not to look for him, but I have always been too curious for my own good. No sign of him.
Damn.
I sighed, steeled myself for my workday and tried not to think of eyes that held dark secrets and promised wonderful things. As I stepped out of the car, something brushed my hip. I looked down to see a hand, and the cuff of a worn leather jacket, disappear behind me into the crowd. On the platform, I turned to look, but there was no sign of him.

Later that day, on my way to lunch, I put my hand into my coat pocket, searching for a lipstick. What I found was far more valuable. A small white card with elegant masculine script:

I swear I could smell leather.

The next morning, I got to the station earlier than normal. I had fussed with my clothes and hair—I wore a swingy skirt, scoop-neck blouse and loose chignon. Utterly ridiculous to be exerting this kind of effort over a stranger, but it was nice to have someone actually notice me. In a big city, that was rare. I was horribly disappointed though, when he was nowhere to be seen. The rest of the day dragged by, and quitting time was a relief indeed. Waiting on the platform, I wondered if I might see my mystery guy tomorrow morning, wondered idly what I might wear, if it might rain.

Sun-warmed leather filled my nostrils, alerting me to his presence long before I saw him. He was behind me, I was sure of it, sure I could feel his breath wafting across my bare neck. My pulse picked up. I heard the train rumbling toward the station and decided to make sure. I turned quickly and found myself inches from a sexy smirk, those eyes boring into mine. His eyes held mine for a moment, dropped to my lips, down to my breasts
then back up. Smirk widened to grin as I tried to hold his gaze and failed. People began to move around us, propelling us into the waiting car as well.

His fingers shot lightning up my arm as he circled my wrist, leading me toward the back of the car. He turned to face me at the end of the aisle. This time, I didn't drop my eyes, didn't try to hide the interest and arousal that was evident in them. Slowly, he moved his hand from my wrist, tracing up my arm to my shoulder and turning me to face the front of the car.

Puzzled, I surveyed the crowded car, standing room only at this point in the day. Everyone looked either tired or preoccupied. His hand slid back down my arm, lingering inside my wrist, then traveling back up my arm again. The train lurched into motion as I grabbed the rail with my free hand. Fingers lightly traced the edge of my blouse across the back of my neck, bringing my nipples to swift attention, then continuing up the side of my neck and behind my ear, following my hairline and moving back down again. The feel of his fingers lingered on my skin after they moved on. Both hands slid down my arms slowly, then settled at my waist. He pulled me backward into him, moving one hand across my stomach to keep me there, the other hand slipping slowly up my side. I held my breath as fingertips brushed up the side of my breast, inscribed tiny whorls over and over again.

The train slid to a stop, the motion pressing a nicely firm cock against my ass. I grinned, now sure that I wasn't the only one getting all hot and bothered. As the car began to move again, I shifted my hips subtly to press a little harder against him, using the swaying rhythm for extra oomph. I felt one twitch of his cock, then another. I was feeling pretty smug when I felt lips against the nape of my neck and I stilled. He gave a swirl of his tongue at the base and I moaned out loud. A puff of
breath against my skin let me know that he was amused, which prompted me to resume my subtle lap dance. His hand dropped to my hip, pulling me even tighter against him, making me more aware of each movement while his lips continued to explore the back of my neck. My heart was tripping; I was getting wetter by the minute.

There was another stop and exchange of passengers, the last before my own. I felt him flex his knees slightly, then his fingers on my bare thigh underneath my skirt. He trailed his nails up the back of my leg, gave another chuckle when I wriggled against him with pleasure. I turned my head, trying not to moan again, and he captured my earlobe between his teeth—sucking and biting at the same time. I was coming undone, quickly. I slid my hand behind me, flexing my fingers over his jean-clad cock, tracing its shape and smirking when he groaned softly in my ear. Delicious.

All too soon I felt the train slow and knew my stop was near. Now what? I certainly couldn't invite a stranger to my apartment. Tipping my head back, I reached up to pull his lips to mine. His heat poured between my lips, left me breathless yet again and wanting more. As the doors slid open, I broke away regretfully.

“Wait. What's your name?”

His voice was as deep as his eyes, mellifluous and sexy as hell. A smile lit his face as he waited for my answer.