by Lacey Black
“But you always did it.”
“For you.” My cock twitches in my shorts.
“For me,” she ratifies. Kate glances around, realizing we’ve stopped in the middle of the street. “Oh, look! The House of Horrors,” she bellows, pulling me from my Kate-infused sexual funk and practically dragging me toward the mini haunted house, where the line is a bit longer than the Ferris wheel.
It takes us about ten minutes before it’s our turn to ride through the small, dark haunted house. A couple of teenage boys are in the car in front of us, loudly joking around about how scary the ride is. It reminds me of the way my friends and I used to behave on this ride. Well, at least until I was seated beside Kate. Then, all I wanted to do was be all cool and try to steal a few kisses in the dark.
Speaking of kisses…
We jolt as the ride moves, my arm instantly going to rest of the back of the seat as I used to do when we were kids. We creep through a rickety old door, ignoring the neon sign about danger ahead. Instead, I focus on the way Kate nestles into the seat, her upper back hitting my arm the same way it used to. My fingers twitch to move just a few inches, to caress the soft skin on her arm, but I refrain. The truth is we aren’t kids, and we aren’t together. There’s no reason to start groping her in the middle of the haunted house.
Until she looks at me.
There are shadows since the place is bathed in darkness, with the exception of the flashes of light accompanying skeletons, zombies, and mummies, but even then, there’s no missing the look on her face. It’s a look of longing and mischief; the same look she used to give me all those years ago. It’s familiar and yet so foreign, but piques my interest in that challenging manner. Like she’s daring me to kiss her.
A challenge I fully accept.
With teenage boys pretending to be scared at our ambiance, my arm moves, pulling her against my overheating body. She gazes up at me with wide, needy eyes, already licking her lips in anticipation. Something deep inside me pulls, a subtle reminder I shouldn’t be doing this, that there’s no going back. Now that I feel her in my arms again—for the second time this week—I know I’m truly and royally fucked.
Not that I’d want to backtrack at this point anyway…
“Do you remember when we used to make out in this ride?” I whisper, ignoring the loud spooky music blasting through the speakers around us.
“I remember you getting to second base for the first time on this ride,” she replies, eyes sparkling like diamonds under the strobe lights.
Oh, I most definitely remember that too. A boy never forgets the first time he felt a boob. Chuckling, I add, “I recall that too. My palms were sweaty with nerves.” I move ever so slightly, lining up our lips.
Her breath fans across my face. “Are your palms sweaty this time?” she dares, my cock jumping with excitement in my shorts.
“I don’t think so, but there’s only one way to find out.”
“I agree. We should definitely find out,” she pants.
Kate’s eyes flutter shut and my mouth moves, claiming hers in a hard, fierce kiss. The softness of her lips is so fucking enticing, so fucking sweet, so fucking right it steals any logic that may try to slip into my brain, reminding me we’re still in a fairly public place. All that goes right out the window when she opens her mouth and her tongue slides against mine.
My hand moves, gently slipping beneath her top and gliding its way up the smooth skin of her side. When it reaches her bra, I find her nipples already hard, pressing firmly against the coarse lace material. As I graze my fingers over the hardened peaks, the sweetest fucking gasp slips from her lips.
My mouth devours hers as my hand cups her breast. They’re definitely fuller than they were when we were younger and a lot more sensitive, if her mewls of pleasure are any indication. I move the material aside and slip my palm against the warm skin. Her body practically ignites as she seeks out the sweet friction of my hand. When I pinch her nipple, she detonates, her needy cries sending tingles down my spine that land heavily in my balls. I’m pretty sure I could take this woman right here, right now, in the middle of the world’s cheesiest ride, and not give a single fuck about witnesses or repercussions.
Unfortunately, it’s as she’s seeking out more contact with my hand when I realize our dark ride is coming to an end. I pry my lips from hers and rip away my hand, helping right her bra and top just as we’re bathed in light once more. The ride jerks to a stop, the young kid manning the exit giving me a knowing smirk.
I stand up, my own legs a little shaky, and offer assistance to Kate. Her lower limbs are in even worse shape than my own, which makes for a fun exit from the ride. Not to mention her lightly mussed hair, the fact her shirt is slightly askew, and her lips are swollen and red. I try to save face a little, glancing over to the young guy and saying, “She’s not much of a ride-taker.”
He laughs right in my face though, and whispers, “Looks like she enjoyed the hell out of the ride.”
Of course, Kate hears his comment and gasps beside me. I can tell she’s ready to fire off a quick-witted retort, and decide to save a little face, pulling her along beside me. “That was rude,” she replies when we’re walking away from the House of Horrors.
I snort. “Rude, but true. You look a little…excited,” I reply, my voice dropping dangerously low.
Her eyes dilate even more and her pinked cheeks turn a shade darker. Instead of trying to deny the state of her appearance and her body, she leans in and whispers, “Well, I have always loved that ride.”
My balls tighten painfully as I gaze down at her. Every time we’ve fooled around on that ride flashes before my eyes. I’m a millisecond away from dragging her back in line for a second trip when I hear a familiar voice break through the lust-filled fog choking me.
“Daddy!”
I glance to the side just as Max launches himself at my legs. Snatching him as he flies through the air, I feel the weight of my ex-wife’s judgmental eyes almost immediately. Choosing to ignore her at the moment, I focus on my son. “Hey, Buddy, are you enjoying the festival?”
“Yeah! I ate a big corndog and cheese fries,” he tells me, a toothy grin on his happy face.
“I can tell,” I laugh, noting the dried cheese left behind from his dinner.
“Kate! Can I come over and find more treasure?” he asks, giving all of his attention to the woman at my side.
“Hey, Maxwell! You can come over any time and look for more treasure,” Kate replies, returning my son’s warm smile and giggle.
“My name’s not Maxwell,” he laughs. “It’s just Max!”
“Well, Just Max, the invitation stands,” she agrees before turning her eyes to my ex-wife. “Hello, Ashley.”
It’s the first time I glance at the woman I share a son with, and the look on her face is exactly as I anticipated. It’s a mixture of anger and shock, most likely because I never confirmed the Kate Max talked about was the Kate from my past. Now, there’s no denying it, since they’re face-to-face.
“Kathryn,” Ashley bites out as if just saying the name has left a horrible taste in her mouth. “When did you get to town?”
“A few weeks ago,” Kate replies politely.
“Well, it’s good to have you back. I’m sure Jensen was very pleased,” she says, glancing my way. Then she turns back to Kate with a spiteful grin and says, “And obviously, you’ve been very pleased recently too.”
I can’t help the gasp that slips from my mouth at her insinuation. No, she’s not far off course, but who actually says something like that, and with our son in earshot? Kate doesn’t stoop to her level, though. She just civilly smiles and adds, “It has been a very pleasant visit with Jensen and Just Max. I’ve enjoyed spending what little time I have with them.”
Ashley turns her glare my way. Max, fortunately, seems completely oblivious that his mom is a mere one step away from punching me in the face. Ashley was never a violent woman—I wouldn’t have married her if she was—but the
re has always been this underlying issue when it came to Kate. There was always a jealousy there, smoldering beneath the surface. Even though she had nothing to worry about, since Kate was long gone from the picture when we got together, she just always hated what I had before her.
Now, it’s liable to only get worse.
“Well, I’m sure you two have more important things to do, so Max and I will leave you to it,” Ashley says, taking Max by the hand and guiding him away from where I stand.
“I’ll see you Monday morning, Buddy,” I tell my son, eager to have him back at my place. The reversed week is always a little harder, since we each have him for a longer period of time right before or after, but we make it work. Normally, I would pick him up after school on Monday, but since it’s the Labor Day holiday, I get him in the morning before his mom goes to work at the hospital.
Max runs back to me, throws his arms around my waist, and squeezes. “Love you, Daddy. Bye Kate,” he hollers with a wave before running back to his mom. Ashley manages one final icy glare before turning and disappearing into the mass of people.
“Well, that was fun,” Kate says beside me.
“She hasn’t always been so…unfriendly. You’re taking that well,” I tell her, turning my attention away from the crowd and back to the woman at my side.
She shrugs. “What am I going to do? Be all hard and snappy? Max doesn’t need to see that, and frankly, what happened between the two of you has nothing to do with me.”
I’m afraid she’s a little off base. When I look back on my marriage to Ashley, I know I never really gave her my entire heart. She received only part of it, by no fault of her own. No, the fault behind my failed marriage rests solely on my shoulders, even if she did make it quite difficult from time to time. I’m the asshole in this picture, and that’s okay. I deserve it. I’ll never regret marrying Ashley, though I do wish I had gone about everything a little differently.
Sensing the heaviness of the moment and the weight of my thoughts, Kate offers me a smile and reaches for my hand. “Come on, you owe me a corndog.”
Chapter Twelve
Kathryn
My stomach is positively stuffed to the gills, carbs be damned. Between the foot-long corndogs, lemon shake-ups, and the elephant ear, I couldn’t eat another bite. Just the thought of ingesting more food is enough to make me want to puke.
“Look, fried Oreos,” Jensen says, pulling me along toward the food truck, my hand still comfortably nestled within his much bigger one.
“Uhhh,” I groan miserably. “Jensen, I seriously don’t want to even think about more food right now.”
“But this isn’t food, Butterfly. This is deep fried Oreos,” he says, and for some reason, it sounds totally naughty when he says it. Like he’s seducing me…with food.
“No,” I reply, shaking my head adamantly. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”
Suddenly, I’m moving, being pulled gently forward until I’m practically pasted against his rock-hard chest. My breathing hitches as I press firmly against the rigid planes of his midsection, his free hand wrapping around mine. “What if I did all the eating?” he whispers and my thighs clench. I can feel the wetness flooding my core, no doubt rendering my panties completely useless.
“Oh my God, did you just say something dirty?” I hear what sounds like a choking sound next to us and quickly turn my attention to our side. I recognize the woman right away.
“Harper. Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jensen asks his older sister without taking his eyes from mine.
“Actually, yes, yes I do. If you’re talking dirty I have sooo many other things I’d rather be doing. Like getting a root canal or maybe a bikini wax. Painful things that would hopefully dull the ache of hearing my little brother talking dirty to his ex-girlfriend,” Harper says without breaking stride and moving to stand behind us in line. Finally, she turns her blue eyes to me. “Hi, Kathryn.” It’s polite, sure, but not dripping with friendliness.
“Hello, Harper. How have you been?”
“Couldn’t be better. You remember Latham Douglas, don’t you?” she asks, her eyes lighting up when she turns to the handsome man behind her. I definitely remember Latham. He was a couple of years older than me and played sports. Every female in the school knew who he was, but I specifically remember how he used to torment Harper. Well, maybe not torment, but there were definite buttons pushed—on both sides.
“Oh, yeah. Hi, Latham. Good to see you,” I say, reaching for his hand. It’s large and welcoming, but doesn’t give me that warm, fuzzy feeling like when Jensen touches me.
“Good to see you too,” he says, turning a pretty sexy smile toward the woman at his side.
“Jensen mentioned you two were together now. That’s great,” I find myself saying. Even if Jensen hadn’t mentioned it, it’s obvious, considering his hands are dangerously low on her hip, as he tucks her into his side, and looks like he wants to devour her.
“He wore me down,” Harper shrugs, practically glowing with happiness as she gazes up at the big guy beside her.
“Wow,” I reply with a big smile, but gently lean toward Jensen and whisper, “Didn’t she once tell the school he was pleasuring himself on the football field with a traffic cone?”
“I knew that was you!” Latham bellows, pulling our attention (and everyone within a two-block radius) to his shocked face.
“Of course, it was her, love. You didn’t think the rumor of you screwing a traffic cone came from anyone other than our sweet little Harper here, did you?” a woman says as she comes up to stand beside Harper, licking a chocolate ice cream cone. I know her instantly. Freedom Rayne was Harper’s best friend in school. She was completely eccentric, and if her long, flowy shirt, braided hair with a ring of flowers around her head, and dozens of bangle bracelets are any indication, I’d say she hasn’t changed a bit.
Latham wraps his arms around Jensen’s sister and plasters his lips on hers. When he comes up for air, he says, “You’re going to pay for that later, Sweetheart.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Okay, you’re in public. Let’s not get carried away and spoil my appetite.” Jensen gives me a smile when he turns away from his sister and her boyfriend. “You remember Free, right?” he asks, nodding to the familiar woman who walked up.
“Of course,” I reply extending my hand. “Good to see you, Free.”
“You too, love. I didn’t know you were back in town,” Free says, taking another long lick of her cone.
“You’re getting that all over the place.” The man who walks up is as familiar as the man standing beside me. His older brother, Samuel, has always been as professional as they come, in his polo and Dockers. He was off to college most of the time I dated Jensen, but when he’d return home, his appearance was much the same. Now, it’s clearly no different as he’s wearing a charcoal gray suit and black tie.
“What the hell, Sammy? You’re at the Falls Festival. Dig out the mothy T-shirt and shorts and live a little,” Free chastises the oldest Grayson sibling as she continues to lap up the ice cream. She’s definitely a messy eater, but a part of me is thinking she’s doing it for fun.
Samuel’s eyes flash as he watches her eat the cone, a look most probably would have missed. Heck, I would have missed it if I weren’t looking directly at him. It was a look of desire, but was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “I just got off work, Freedom. I just stopped in to see how the festival was going before heading home for the evening,” he replies, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Aww, you missed me? It’s okay to admit you knew I was here,” Free says with a shrug.
“Hardly,” he replies before turning his attention to Jensen and me. “Is my nephew here?”
“Yeah, but he’s with Ashley,” his younger brother replies, grabbing my hand. “You remember Kathryn, right?”
Samuel’s eyes are intense as he turns his gaze fully in my direction. It’s like being instantly thrust under
a microscope. He watches me, taking everything in from my casual appearance to the fact Jensen’s hand is wrapped around mine. Finally, he replies, “I remember. Good to see you again, Kathryn. How long are you in town?”
“Uhh, actually, I live here now. I’m back in my old home,” I tell him and watch as surprise filters across his face. Apparently, I’ve been able to hide my homecoming well, even though I have dozens of workers in and out of the property all day.
“Oh, well, welcome home. I’m sure everyone is happy to have you back,” he replies, glancing at his younger brother with a look that conveys concern.
I tense, knowing everyone in this group thinks poorly of me. In their eyes, I left Jensen, never to be heard from again. They don’t know I tried to reach out to him, that I cried myself to sleep for weeks. That when I finally did hear from him, it was in the form of letters that were found between him and his father. Hurtful letters that only ensured my tears continued for a lot longer.
Of course, I know now it was all an illusion, a mirage painted by someone evil to keep me away from the boy I loved.
“Well, it was good seeing you guys. We’re grabbing some food and then I promised Kate one last ride on the Ferris wheel,” Jensen says, pulling me to the window at the food cart in front of us.
“Let’s go, Sammy. You’re taking me on the Tilt-A-Whirl,” Free says, tossing what’s left of her sticky cone into the trash can, licking her hand, and grabbing a hold of Samuel.
The look on his face is quite comical as she puts her sticky fingers all over his suit. “I am not riding the Tilt-A-Whirl, Freedom,” he demands, digging his heels in the ground.
“Oh, yes you are.” Then, the craziest thing happens. She pulls him toward the big spinning contraption on the other side of the park, and Samuel…follows.
When I glance in the direction of where we left Jensen’s sister and her boyfriend standing, I find them still there, watching. Well, specifically, Harper’s laser eyes are pinned directly on me, a concerned look on her face. I can tell she’s trying to figure us out, and frankly, I haven’t even figured us out yet. There are still so many unanswered questions, so much time elapsed, and so much history stands between us. I don’t have the energy to try to figure out what us means. All I know is I’ve had a great time together, catching up with an old friend, enjoying the festival I grew up attending.