I nod. Like hell I will. “Sure, gorgeous. Come on, let’s eat.” I lace my hand with hers and lead her to the diner I spotted.
We walk in and it’s like a scene out of Happy Days. The front counter is lined with classic candies—Sugar Daddys, Bit-O-Honeys, Sixlets, Oh Henry! bars, candy necklaces, Sky Bars, and Cherry Mashes. Betty Boop memorabilia is everywhere. The waiter waves us to take our own seat, and we find a booth in the very back. The restaurant looks like it hasn’t been remodeled since it opened in the 1950s. The booths are ripped and the table is sticky, but I could care less because we both look up at each other and grin. There’s a shiny chrome Seeburg Wall-O-Matic jukebox sitting at the end of our table. Jackpot!
I ask the waitress for some change and when she brings it to the table, I push it all over to Ivy. “Your choice, baby.”
We both order pancakes with bacon and then she selects a number of songs. We listen to the singles spinning round and round somewhere we can’t see, while we wait for our food. Once we’ve eaten, she uses the restroom and I snag a candy necklace for her, pay the bill, and stuff the little sugar beads in my pocket before she comes back.
We spend an hour or so walking around Niagara Falls and really talking. Telling each other the things we have done in our lives—what we feel we’ve accomplished, what we haven’t, and what we want out of life. As strange as it is, I think we both want the same things. It’s too early to talk about a future, but I see mine with her in it.
Back at the small private cottage I rented on the lake, she pushes me flat on my back on the bed as soon as we walk in. I give her a knowing look as she peels off her top and then removes her bra. The tears are long since gone and an entirely different emotion has taken over. I raise my head to suck on one of her nipples, but she pushes me back down. I try not to laugh and decide just to roll with it. She runs her hands down my arms and I try to grab her fingers, but instead she lifts my shirt up slightly. Again I let her. She traces the letters inked along my side. Another moment passes and she drops her lips to my skin to kiss each and every letter of my tattoo. A raw ache from her touch emanates from every nerve in my body. When she sits up, her hair rests on her shoulders and she takes it and swirls it around as if knotting it.
Even in the dim light I soak up the curves of her body, the angles of her face, the way they light up the room. I move to sit up, so she straddles my lap and I pull her close to me. She tugs hard on my hair and I kiss her even harder. Her breasts rub against my bare chest and I clutch her ass and press her more firmly into my lap. By the time I break away, after she rocks forward on my erection, I’m nearly panting. With boldness she never exhibited in our moments of intimacy before, she unbuttons my shirt and takes it off, then pulls my undershirt over my head but leaves it tangled around my wrists.
“Are you okay with this?” she asks, her voice shy but smooth.
I grin at her and then close my eyes. I’m so turned on by this side of her, but I don’t want to ask whether she’s done anything like this before, because I might not like the answer.
My cock is so hard against the fabric of my jeans that I decide the “have you ever” question will definitely have to wait. I tug the shirt the rest of the way off and capture her hips. “Yes, I am,” I tell her as I roll us over so she lies beneath me. I’m just not okay with giving up control. I reach into my pocket and pull out the elastic candy necklace. “I got you something,” I murmur to her. But instead of putting it over her head where it would sit snugly around her beautiful neck, I pull her wrists to me. She stares at me with a glimmer in her eye and I know she’s fine with this. After all, she started it and it’s a tame, harmless first attempt at something I’ve never thought about doing until now.
She draws a line with her tongue from my mouth to my ear. “Go ahead,” she whispers in a sexy, ragged voice. “But I can’t use my hands if you do,” she adds.
I smile at her as I wrap the elastic in a figure eight around her wrists and then stand up, kicking off my boots, and taking my pants off in record time. Hovering over her, I remove her remaining clothes—everything except her lacey black thong. Then I slowly pull her arms over her head and pin them there. With my other hand I slide my fingertips down her bare stomach to the edge of her panties. Creeping along their edge, I feel her wetness and quickly slide my hand inside them to cup her *.
She gasps. “I want you inside me.”
I answer against her skin as I lap my tongue over the peaks of her hard nipples. “I want that too.” My lips move farther down the swells of her breast. “Keep your hands pressed together,” I groan as my lips move toward her taut stomach and I let go of them.
“Xander, I want you inside me,” she moans.