Captivated

by Scarlett Avery

  “I’ll be honest, had it not been for Riley’s kids, I’d be in the same boat. There’s something liberating about a fair. It’s one place where you can be goofy as can be and no one will ever hold it against you.” He winks as he shuts the door behind me.

  “I’m warning you, I love those scary rides,” I say, giddy. “We can’t leave until we’ve eaten funnel cake and I have to go back home with at least three prizes. I usually suck at these games, so I’ll have to beg you to be my lifeline.”

  “Bring it on.” He grabs my hand and we begin weaving through the parking lot. We follow the crowd heading towards a huge sign that reads LA Parksdale Fair.

  The line-up to the ticket booth is deceiving. Here I thought we’d be stuck waiting for a long time, but it only takes a few minutes for the attendant to usher us in. Once Hunter buys our tickets and slips on my neon-green wristband giving us complete access to all rides, we’re ready to go.

  We enter through yellow gates and the first thing that hits me as we walk in is the overpowering smell of frying oil. Let’s face it, a fair wouldn’t be much of anything without the type of deep-fried food sure to give you a heart attack. That’s half the fun. As we stroll down the middle of the fair, I struggle to take it all in. The blinking lights are dizzying, but once again, it’s a sign of what’s in store for us in the next few hours. Piercing screams come to us from the rollercoasters and I’m already twitching with anticipation at being that freaked out as our ride plunges downwards.

  There are tons of kids, many well into their teens, wandering about. No matter their age, their sense of awe is palpable. I might be a little older, but I’m pretty sure the wonder twinkling in their eyes matches mine.

  As we slow down in front of a booth filled with prizes, Hunter squeezes my hand and looks down at me. “Rides or games first?” He asks. I’m sure it means nothing, but I love how our hands are tangled together.

  I stop, turn to face him, twist my mouth to the side, bring my index finger to my chin and look up at the sky, pondering my answer. “Rides, funnel cake and then games, in that order,” I state, dead certain of what I want.

  “Adrenaline before prowess?”

  “Absolutely. Is there any other way?”

  “You’re my kind of girl.” He grins at me and I match him with a wide smile.

  “The question is where to start?” I look around, trying to figure out what’s most tempting. “Let’s warm up with the Ferris wheel, then we’ll line up for the hair-raising rides.”

  “Damn, woman, you impress the heck out of me.”

  I giggle, elated by his reaction. “Is that a yes?”

  “Damn right. Let’s go with your plan.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Hunter

  Obviously, we aren’t the only ones eager to ride the Ferris wheel. We’ve been patiently waiting for a while now. I sense Miranda’s eagerness growing with each group that makes it through. As each new group makes the cut, she steps in front of me and stands on her tippy toes to gauge the line. I can’t help but zoom in on her round, heart-shaped ass trapped in such a tempting way in her low-waisted jeans. I love squeezing those cheeks in my hands. When she leans further in, her illegally sexy top lifts just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her supple skin. Hot damn, that thing is a cock-teaser.

  Unable to keep my hands to myself any longer, I reach out and place them on her lower back. Her breath hitches under my touch and it gets me even harder than I already am. “We shouldn’t have too much longer to wait.” The slump in her shoulders betrays her casual tone.

  “That’s good.” I match her nonchalance. Rather than remove my hands, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me, her back pressing against my chest. “I’m starting to grow impatient, Miranda. I can’t wait to dive right into tonight’s lesson,” I murmur in her ear, pressing my cock against her.

  “I-I’m also looking forward to it.”

  I lean down and drop a soft kiss against her cheek. “No matter how thrilling these rides are, they pale in comparison with what I have in store for you later tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  I open my mouth to respond to her monosyllabic answer when the group in front of us moves forward. I restrain myself for now, seeing how her face instantly illuminates. We approach an older man wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap and waving at us. “Right up here, boys and girls,” the attendant shouts, directing us onto the stainless-steel metallic surface with a chevron pattern that leads to the ride.

  We slide into the car and I lower the safety bar. As we wait for the rest of the ride to be loaded, I can’t help but tease Miranda a little more. “I’m getting to know you well. You’re an adrenaline junkie who loves cock sauce. What are your other vices?”

  She looks at me, purses her lips and squints her eyes. Whatever’s going on up there is intense. “You mean other than Cosmo martinis, donuts, stracciatella, aka chocolate chip-flavored gelato, Southern Barbecue Krinkle Kettle chips, pedicures and my obsession with shower gels?”

  I laugh at her elaborate list. “I guess.”

  “I’d have to say cooking. I don’t care if it’s frying eggs, sautéing some shrimp Creole, cooking up some Savannah red rice or preparing a beef Wellington, I could live in the kitchen. I’ve been trying my hand at baking and I’m getting there, but cooking is definitely my forte.”

  “In that case, your new job is perfectly suited.”

  “It’s as good as it gets for someone like me who never was able to finish culinary school.” A sudden wave of sadness veils her amber eyes.

  I frown at her answer. “What do you mean?”

  “When we met at the market, I revealed that my mom had a restaurant back in Savannah, Georgia,” Miranda says. I nod, remembering vaguely. “What I omitted to say was that a few years ago she hit really hard times. In fact, she nearly lost her business and all of the savings she had spent to get things off the ground. To help, I quit chef school. I was enrolled at International Culinary School at the Art Institute of Atlanta. I wasn’t even able to finish my first year. I started working full-time at eighteen to prevent my mom from losing something that’s really important to her. It was a long recovery, but she’s now in the black and she has a steady flow of customers every single day.” Her heartfelt confession is moving.

  “Have you thought of going back? They have great culinary schools right here in LA.”

  “Yeah. I’m still paying off the loan from my first year in school, since those payments had to take a backseat to helping my mom financially. I don’t think it’s in the cards for me right now. I resigned myself to putting that dream on the shelf.”

  I place one hand on top of hers and I lift her chin up with the other so our eyes meet. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with that. It’s not something an eighteen-year-old should ever have to face. Your mom is very lucky to have you in her corner. She must be very proud. That said, I think you’re selling yourself short. Look at your boss. She’s one of the top TV chefs in America and she’s one of the most influential food bloggers on the Internet. I’m pretty sure she must’ve told you this a dozen times already, but she didn’t spend a day in chef school. Heck, they’d most likely kick Riley’s ass right out of the program for constantly challenging her teachers.” I chuckle. “For three months, she only had a dozen readers of her blog and that included her parents, her nanny, Jake and I, but she’s so persistent and so pigheaded, she just wouldn’t give up and today it’s paid off big time. You can take this new opportunity at Food TV and turn it, bend it, twist it, shape it any way you want, sweetie. Riley’s proven it time and time again. When it comes to getting what you want out of life, the sky’s the limit.”

  She shrugs. “Did my best friend Jessica pay you to say that or something? You sound an awful lot like her.”

  I roar at her comeback. “It sounds like you’re surrounded by great minds.” I wink.

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes at me.

  Finally, the Ferris wheel
starts turning in circles. I slide my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. “Now, hold on tight, it’s about to get bumpy.”

  “Are we still talking about the ride?” She shoots me a wicked glance.

  “Pun very much intended, sweetie.” I grin.

  Man, Miranda keeps surprising me every time I hang out with her. She’s nothing like most of the women I’ve been with. Her proposition might have sounded far-fetched and over the top at first, but it’s exactly what I need for the next few weeks.

  * * *

  Miranda is a trooper and she really enjoys these daredevil rides. It’s not an act to impress me. It’s so refreshing. I thought for sure she’d ask for mercy, but she only took a short break after we crawled out of our fifth ride—the Colossus Buzz. The fair calls it “the ride to end all rides” and they weren’t joking. It’s a two-hundred-and-ninety-foot-long steel coaster that holds twelve brave fools. It features the tallest inversion on the West Coast where we were upside down for just under ten seconds. Yes, Miranda and I were part of the group of people who had lost their marbles. I thought I was going to die, but it was crazy fun. We step off of our sixth ride of the evening after another eventful few minutes that left my stomach in my throat. Although the Turbulence Coaster isn’t nearly as scary as the previous ride, it’s still not for the faint at heart. The name fits like a glove considering how the coaster goes forward and reverses on the same track. I teeter off the damn thing dizzy and confused for a few seconds, but Miranda bounces right off of it like a kangaroo. Before I can open my mouth to ask if she’s okay, she declares she’s famished. Just like any self-respecting gentleman, I rush her to the food court area to feed her. We pig out on greasy cheeseburgers, thick fatty fries, buttery corn on the cob and the most sinful bacon, mac and cheese cupcakes I’ve ever eaten in my life. I wash it all down with a few cold beers, while Miranda prefers Smirnoff Ice coolers. We sit in the food court area for a little while, satiated and happy campers. When it comes time for dessert, she’s too full and so am I. We both decide to wait until later.

  We stroll around the fair, drunken with food, and make our way towards the game vendors. We walk around until we stop in front of a short pot-bellied vendor with a combover standing in front of a booth waving at us and inviting us to tempt fate. “I feel it’s your lucky day. Take a chance,” he says with a wide smile. “I’m sure the pretty lady would love to go home with any of these,” he adds, pointing at the colorful stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling.

  Both Miranda and I look at each other. “No carnival is complete without winning a prize.” She shrugs as if we have no other choice but to comply. “That goes against everything we stand for as Americans. And remember, you promised you’d help me win three of them.”

  “Did I ever officially agree to that?”

  “How can you refuse me?” Yeah, that’s becoming harder and harder. “You can’t let me go home empty-handed.” She pouts and bats her eyelashes. If it weren’t for that furtive smile she flashes me, I’d so fall for her act.

  I sense she already knows she has me by the balls on this one.

  “If I recall correctly, you said funnel cake before games.”

  “That’s before I ate a week’s worth of food in one sitting. We need to burn off some calories.”

  I can think of a number of ways to do that don’t involve me embarrassing myself.

  “In that case, let’s make sure I play to win.”

  * * *

  An hour later I’ve dominated and conquered a number of shooting and hoop games, to Miranda’s delight and to the vendors’ dismay. I figured if I had a chance at winning any of these stuffed animals, it had to be on my own terms—aka something I master. I kept Miranda and a few curious spectators in stitches while I attempted to play the invincible superhero. Needless to say, the four vendors who saw me leave with their biggest and most expensive toys weren’t as amused. Sure, I was showing off, but the grin on Miranda’s face each time I won something was well worth it.

  After my triumph, we head back to my vehicle, chatting animatedly and still laughing our heads off, each of us carrying an armful of her new furry stuffed friends. There’s no way we can possibly enjoy the rest of the evening carrying this stuff around. It’s way too cumbersome. She wanted three stuffed prizes, I got her six. What can I say? I’m an overachiever.

  “All right. What do you want to do next?” I ask, closing the trunk.

  “Definitely dessert. I saw a vendor who was selling red velvet funnel cake topped with a mountain of whipped cream that has my name written all over it.”

  “Stop talking dirty like that, woman, and show me the way,” I say, crooking my right arm inside of hers and guiding her back to the fair. “Did I deliver on my promise?”

  “You mean am I having fun?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to be this carefree and lighthearted.” She stops walking, forcing me to do the same, and angles her body so we’re face to face. She takes both my hands into hers and looks up at me with her gorgeous eyes. The bright lights shining from the fair only accentuate the deep amber shade flicking so seductively. “No, seriously, thank you, Hunter. I really mean it. No one has ever gone out of their way like this for me.”

  We stare at each for a moment, oblivious to our surroundings, exchanging unspoken words—craving, yearning and desire. Our nightly phone sex sessions have been off the charts, but being this close to her is incomparable. I want my hands all over her body, touching, caressing and groping her.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I murmur without thinking, running my thumb over her cheek. She tilts her head further back, and with a lingering glance to my mouth, she pulls at my t-shirt with a devilish smile on her face. I look down at her and my eyes land in between her round, luscious tits that are pressed so close together in what I can only imagine being a racy, lacy bra. Damn. That tight-fitted top of hers that hugs her so well has been haunting me since I picked her up. I’ve been good and I’ve behaved all night, but now it’s over. I want more than sweet treats. I want her. “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” she asks. Although a little baffled, she still lets me lead her, backtracking between a myriad of vendors’ booths and stands.

  “Back to the SUV.”

  “We’re going home? Already? Is it something I said?”

  I slow down and look back at her. “Nah. Have you ever made out at the back of a vehicle?” I waggle my eyebrows. Her shocked expression is a dead giveaway of her inexperience with more risqué sensual interludes.

  Miranda flushes a deep red, batting her lashes a mile a minute, her chest heaving up and down. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “I don’t joke about these things. Not to mention I owe you a lesson.”

  She opens her mouth to respond but nothing comes out. I take a step closer to her and embrace her. I circle my arms around her waist and I slide my hands down her back until I cup her round ass. I pull her so close she gasps, surprised. “Feel that?” I grind my hips against her stomach.

  “God, yes,” she pants.

  “My cock is so hard, it hurts. There’s no way I’ll have the patience to wait until we get back to Santa Monica.”

  “Good Lord, are you suggesting we… I mean… In your SUV… out in the open?”

  I flash her a mischievous grin. “There are tons of things we can do at the back of my vehicle without me fucking your pussy that will relieve the tension between my legs.”

  She widens her eyes. “But—”

  “I want you, Miranda. You have to decide if you want me too.”

  My words put an end to her doubts. Smiling up at me, she says, “Screw funnel cake.”

  Lucky for us the parking lot is deserted because people are still too busy having fun. When we get back to my SUV, I open the door and I impatiently throw Miranda’s stuffed toys to the front seat. She giggles as she watches me clear out the area as fast as humanly possible
. Once I’m done, I lower the back seat towards the front to accommodate my long legs and I unfold one of the clean blankets I always keep on hand to make it more comfortable for her. “This isn’t the Ritz, but we can make do.” She nods. “I’ll help you in.” I place my hands under her arms, lift her inside the vehicle, climb in behind her and shut the door. She lies back against her folded arms, looking around her with a worried expression on her face. “The back windows are tinted and the loud noise from the fair will cover us,” I say, reading her mind.

  “Jesus, Hunter, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “You said I could push you.”

  She flashes a cocky little smile of someone who wanted to be caught and she drops her eyes to my mouth. Her tongue slips out, wetting her bottom lip. Damn, I love the way she does that. “I did, didn’t I?”

  It’s true the tinted windows dim the bright lights from the parking lot, but I can still clearly make out her beautiful features.

  Smiling back, I whisper, “Uh-huh. I wouldn’t forget your answer.”

  “What are you going to teach me, Sensei?”

  Laughing, I whisper, “What do you want to learn?”

  “Well, from the movie I watched last night before going to bed, it’s clear I don’t know what I don’t know.”

  “You’re still watching porn?”

  She brings her eyebrows together. “I have a lot of questions about sex and I’m visual, remember.”

  “I’m going to start thinking you’re using your innocence just to give into your kink of watching other people fuck on camera. Just admit you’re a voyeur.”

  “Nah, it’s all research.” She winks.

  “So what did you watch that’s troubling you?”

  “I wouldn’t quite word it like that.”