to prepare the interior of the minibus for her romantic honeymoon with her new husband.
Rocking her hips back and forth to drive Eric’s pussy-magnet of a cock insane with need, she finished replacing the spark plugs, secured the distributor cap, connected the brand new spark plug wires, and crossed her fingers.
“Will you try starting her?” Rebekah asked Eric.
“It isn’t going to start,” he said.
“I’m glad you have such faith in my mechanical skills,” she snapped.
“I have plenty of faith in you,” he said, cupping her breasts as he bent over her to kiss the sensitive pulse point behind her ear. “It’s this hunk of junk I don’t believe in.”
Eric released her and stepped away, circling the vehicle to climb into the ratty driver’s seat.
“He didn’t mean that,” Rebekah whispered to the VW.
“You ready?” he asked.
She took a step back and the starter made a whirring sound as Eric turned the key. With a metallic groan and a loud backfire, the engine kicked over and rumbled with the sound only a vintage Volkswagen could make. Rebekah whooped in triumph and did a victory dance in a gleeful circle behind the vehicle. The tailpipe kicked out a plume of black smoke. Rebekah coughed and waved a hand in front of her face.
Eric gunned the engine a couple of times to keep it from dying and then hopped out to wrap his arms around her.
“I can’t believe you got it started.” He kissed the top of her head several times.
She pressed her hands against his chest and tipped her head back, the feeling of accomplishment swelling in her chest.
“Let’s take her for a spin.”
Eric released Rebekah and patted her on the butt. “I wouldn’t advise driving too far unless you want a long walk back to the house.”
“Oh, pooh.” Rebekah closed the back hatch and dashed around to the driver’s seat. She closed the door and waited for Eric to climb in beside her before pushing in the clutch and shifting into reverse. As soon as she let off the clutch, the engine died.
“I thought you knew how to drive a stick,” Eric said with a mocking laugh.
She rolled her eyes and pushed the clutch back in. Like before, it whirred and whirred and whirred but wouldn’t kick over. “Damn it.” She got out of the bus, trudged around to the back, and opened the engine compartment. She jiggled spark plug wires and stared down at the engine with both hands on her hips. “I don’t see any problems. Eric, try starting her again.”
She could hear him grumbling under his breath as he circled the vehicle and climbed behind the wheel. As soon as he turned the key, the engine fired right up. Rebekah shook her head in disbelief and closed the hatch again. She went around and climbed into the passenger seat.
“You drive,” she said to Eric. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“Like you, she needs a man with a firm hand and an even firmer cock,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
“Puh-lease,” Rebekah returned, rolling her eyes skyward.
Eric shifted into reverse and the minibus responded as if it hadn’t been sitting abandoned in a field for a couple of years.
“She runs great,” Eric claimed as he backed around so he could drive head first down the driveway.
Rebekah crossed her fingers and sent a little prayer heavenward as Eric shifted into first gear and eased forward. There wasn’t so much as a sputter of protest out of the—what had Eric said the original owner called her?—temperamental vehicle.
“Wow,” Eric said. “I think she might actually make it out of the driveway.”
“She’s going to make it another hundred thousand miles or so,” Rebekah assured him with a confident smile.
They drove around their neighborhood, which consisted of widely spaced farmsteads down narrow blacktop or gravel roads. When they returned, Rebekah instructed Eric to park near the water spigot on the side of the garage so she could wash the van.
“I’m proud of you,” Eric said as he shut off the engine.
She beamed at him. “I’m proud of you too.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“It takes mad skills to make this woman blissfully happy,” she said, pointing to her chest. “And you, sir, are the master.”
He grinned. “Well, okay. I will take credit for that.”
She slapped at him playfully and climbed out of the minibus, turning on the hose and spraying off years of grim and the new coating of dust they’d added while driving down unpaved roads.
“Can you get me a bucket of soapy water?” she asked Eric.
“Under one condition,” he said, lifting a finger at her.
“What’s that?”
“You take those overalls off while you wash your new car.”
“You expect me to wash it in my T-shirt and panties?”
“Your wet T-shirt and panties.”
She grinned. He really didn’t want to win this bet, did he? “I’ll think about it,” she said. “While you’re getting me a bucket of soapy water.”
He chuckled and entered the house through the garage to do her bidding. While he was gone, she stripped off her bra and hung it from the round side mirror of the bus and continued spraying down the vehicle. She was surprised to find that beneath all the dirt, the paint was still lustrous. Someone had painted the body white but added huge brightly colored daisies in a chain all around the perimeter just beneath the windows. It was freaking adorable. She loved it. She wasn’t sure how the drummer of a metal band would feel about being seen in such a whimsical vehicle, but her girly soul squealed at its cuteness.
The bucket clunked as it dropped on the ground behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband, her heart thudding with anticipation. He loved to watch. And she loved to put on a show for him.
“Thank you. Go have a seat.” She nodded toward a shady spot under a nearby tree.
Careful to keep her left, newly inked arm as dry as possible, she reached into the bucket of soapy water for the big sponge floating among the bubbles. She got more suds on her leg than the vehicle as she scrubbed it clean, so she made sure to spray herself off with chilly water from the garden hose.
Getting her clothes wet gave her the perfect excuse to unfasten the buckles at her shoulders and allow her coverall shorts to drop to the muddy ground. In nothing but her wet white tank top, hot-pink thong, and her lime-green Converse, she rubbed the soapy sponge over the surface of the vehicle, being sure to bend over and stick her ass out so her husband got plenty of enjoyment from her car wash.
She grinned when a pair of warm hands peeled her thong over the curve of her ass.
“I can eat you out without losing the bet,” Eric said as he dropped to his knees behind her and buried his face in her pussy.
The sponge tumbled from her hand as she pressed her palm against the side of the minibus for stability.
“Right?” The word was muffled as his mouth found her center.
“Yes,” she groaned, not as an answer to his question, but because she wanted this, wanted him.
She lost all ability to reason as his fingers dug into her hips to hold her steady and his tongue dipped inside her.
“Eric!” she called out to him as his tongue thrust in and out and then swirled around the rim of her opening. She loved the feel of his mouth on her excited flesh, but she wanted something big and hard inside her. Pounding her deep. “Fuck me,” she gasped.
“Tomorrow,” he promised before nipping one throbbing lip and then sucking it into his wicked mouth to soothe the hurt with repetitive strokes of his tongue. He gave the other side the same treatment before licking and sucking at her much too empty pussy. Rebekah’s head bumped against the side of the van as she moved her hand between her thighs. She rubbed her clit with two fingers, faster and faster, as Eric licked at her freely flowing juices.
He released his hold on her hip, and she heard the sound of his fly unzipping. She smiled as she anticipated his deep,
hard thrusts, but then groaned aloud when his hand wrapped around his rigid length and began to pump it vigorously. She’d never win their bet this way. Pulling away from him, she turned and averted her gaze so she didn’t get caught up in the sight of him stroking himself. She did love to watch the man get himself off.
“Stand,” she demanded, tugging at his T-shirt until he relented and stood up.
Rebekah tossed her discarded coveralls on the ground at Eric’s feet and knelt on them to protect her knees from the hard ground. She grabbed his wrist and used it to guide the cock he was stroking into her mouth.
He released a ragged breath and shifted his hands to her hair, fisting them in the strands and pulling her toward him. She sucked a deep breath in through her nose and relaxed her throat so she could take most of his length. She pulled back slowly, sucking hard, before relaxing again and allowing his cock to slide back toward her throat.
“Jesus,” he breathed, his fingers tightening painfully in her hair.
She brought him quickly to the brink of orgasm and then pulled away. She leaned back and looked up at him, his glistening cock twitching between them.
She pulled her tank top off over her head and cupped her breasts, as if offering them as a sacrifice to the rock god Eric Sticks.
“Do you want me to come on your tits?” he asked.
She shook her head, never unlocking her gaze from his.
“In your mouth?”
Again she shook her head.
“Where then? On your ass? Your face?”
“Inside me.” She gave him that look of longing she knew he couldn’t resist. It had gotten him to buy her the minibus behind her and it would make him lose the bet they’d made. She didn’t even feel slightly guilty for using it on him.
“Fuck,” he said, drawing her to her feet and pushing her back against the van. “You don’t play fair, Mrs. Sticks.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her off the ground by her ass. It took him a few tries to find her, but when he did, his cock sank deep, filling her so perfectly it brought tears to her eyes.
“I love you,” she whispered to him as he drove himself into her over and over against the side of the VW.
“Don’t gloat,” he murmured against her throat as his mouth and tongue caressed her damp skin.
“I’m not gloating. Just stating a fact. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said. “Enough to drive all the way to Bangor in a clunky Volkswagen.”
“In December?”
“Yep. Now hush so I can enjoy your victory.”
Chapter Five
Eric trudged out to the minivan in snow pants and a parka. He’d had to visit two different ski shops and an outdoor sports equipment store to find gear he considered warm enough to brave the North in December. The sales clerk had assured him that he’d survive negative-fifty-degree temperatures in this coat. He might not survive southern California’s upper sixties, however. By the time he reached the vehicle, he was sweating as if he’d run a marathon.
“What are you wearing?” Rebekah asked as she stuffed a suitcase behind the front passenger seat. They didn’t have much room for luggage with the full-sized mattress taking up the bulk of the minibus’s interior.
“I’m ready to brave the vast, frigid wilderness.” He held up his gloved hands and peered at her through the snow goggles he had fixed to his face. Thanks to his ski mask, balaclava, earmuffs and scarf, he didn’t have an inch of flesh exposed.
“Do you think the second we cross out of California we’ll be stuck in a blizzard?”
“We don’t even have to leave California. The Sierra Nevada Mountains might do us in before we leave the state.”
Rebekah rolled her eyes.
“What?” The moist breath inside his ski mask/scarf combination condensed uncomfortably on his skin. He never understood why anyone would choose to live in a climate where such garments were necessary.
“You’re being ridiculous.” She tossed her hands in the air and shook her head. “I get it, okay? You don’t want to go to Maine. Maybe we should just skip the honeymoon altogether.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head through several layers of knit. “Don’t be mad,” he said. “I’ll take this stuff off and shove it into the back.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t mean to be so testy. I just thought you’d like to spend time alone with me. We travel a lot with the band, but we’re never truly alone then.”
“I do want to spend time alone with you.” Just not in fucking Bangor, Maine, he added silently. But he’d endure the cold to bask in the warmth of Rebekah’s sunny smile.
He stepped away and unzipped his parka, removing the garment and tossing it into the back of the van. Rebekah scooped it up and folded it neatly while he hopped out of his snow boots and slipped the straps of his snow pants from his shoulders. Rebekah turned to collect his boots and froze. The look on her face when she realized he was buck naked under his outerwear was worth the heat stroke he was surely suffering.
“Er-ric!” she stammered as he stood before her in nothing but a scarf and a pair of thick gloves.
Her gaze darted toward the gravel road when the rumble of an approaching vehicle and a trail of billowing dust raced in their direction.
“Someone’s coming.”
“Me, if I’m lucky,” he said, backing her into the van.
She pulled an old switcheroo on him and turned, pushing him into the bus. When he tumbled onto the soft mattress inside, she shoved his legs inside, slammed the door, and turned to face the delivery van bumping down their driveway.
“Close the curtains,” he heard her hiss just before she hurried down the drive to meet the FedEx driver. As the delivery man carried a small box out of his truck, he noticed Eric peering out the side window of the van and waved a greeting. He gave Eric an odd look when Eric waved back with one gloved hand. While Rebekah signed for their package, Eric removed his gloves and scarf and lay back on the comfortable bed she’d made for them. At first he’d thought she’d lost her mind to want to take a vehicle that was nearing fifty years old across the United States. But now he thought she was genius. He wouldn’t have to wait until they arrived at their hotel room each night to get some. Though they had yet to test out the facilities, he was sure the back of the bus was roomy and comfortable enough for honeymooning. Their test run was an oversight he planned to remedy before they started their journey northeast.
“You can come out now,” Rebekah said to Eric after the delivery truck crunched out of the driveway and rumbled away.
“There’s something in here you need to take a look at,” Eric said, doing his best to sound concerned.
“If it’s your hard cock, I will not be amused,” she said as she opened the door.
She knew him too well, he decided as he glanced down at his crotch. “I don’t want it to amuse you,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Delight you. Thrill you. Give you earth-shattering orgasms. But not amuse you.”
“I’m a little stressed out at the moment,” she said. “What if I forgot to pack something?”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, coaxed her into the minivan with him and then shut the door behind her. “The most important thing for our journey is this mattress,” he said, tumbling her beneath him. “And we haven’t even tested it out yet.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She linked her hands behind his neck. “If I forgot something, we can pick it up along the way. So ravish me, husband, but first, shut the curtains.”
He could reach most of them without even leaving her arms—the one in the far back and the longer set that separated the back of the bus from the front being the exceptions.
“You’re in charge of the front curtain,” she said as if they were conducting a drill. “I’ll get the back.”
They separated to complete their task, each crawling on hands and knees in opposite dir
ections. Apparently she was quicker than he was because before he’d finished tying the strings to hold the front curtains together, a hot mouth found the cool, sensitive flesh of his balls. She licked every inch of them she could reach from behind and then sucked one into her mouth. Her hand moved up between his legs to stroke his length. Pleasure rippling through him, Eric collapsed forward, the suitcase behind the seat catching his face so he didn’t completely topple off the mattress.
He heard a zipper release behind him as Rebekah used her free hand to remove her shorts.
Eric’s eyes flipped open as she released his nut with a loud
Almost Paradise Page 4