WickedTakeover (10 page)

“You bet.” He got out, took the basket from the floor of the
backseat and went around to her side.

She frowned. “You left me hanging.”

“Consider it a slight delay.” He unbuckled her belt and ran
his hand beneath her skirt. She breathed sharply at him cupping her naked ass
to help her out of the vehicle.

Hurriedly, she smoothed down her skirt and regarded the
quiet residential street bathed in shadows. The soft glow of an occasional
streetlamp and hazy moonlight were all that interrupted the velvety dark. The
air was humid but fresh, the scent of the Atlantic mingling with the fragrance
of countless flowers, vegetation and mown lawns.

Lauren leaned into him and whispered, “You live here?”

He smiled. “No. Now we walk.” He took her hand.

She held his tightly. “To where?”

“You’ll see.”

He led her across the street and down several others. They
passed residents out for a stroll or walking their dogs. Dante exchanged brief
greetings with them. Lauren took everything in, no doubt trying to figure out
where they’d stop. At last, they reached the spot Dante wanted.

She halted immediately at the cop car near the entrance to
the park. Dante pulled her along.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. “We can’t go in there.
It’s closed. Don’t you see the cop?”

The officer lowered his window and grinned at him. “Hey,
man.”

“Hey yourself,” Dante called out. Gabe had been a good
friend for years.

After giving Lauren the once-over, Gabe offered Dante a
thumbs-up and pulled away.

Lauren looked over at the departing patrol car. “Did you use
to be a cop?”

He laughed. “Nope. I do know quite a few though.”

“They cleared out the park for you tonight?”

“It closed at sunset.”

“But they won’t arrest us because you set this up with
them.”

He wondered why Lauren was so stuck on them being arrested.
If that was one of her fantasies. Not answering, Dante led her across the
parking lot and lawn to a massive banyan tree, its gnarled trunk nearly the
width of a house. In the distance, the city glittered, its bright lights bleeding
into the water. He took a cotton blanket from the basket and spread it over the
grass.

“Down you go.” With his arm around her waist, he helped
Lauren to the ground.

She seemed stumped on how to sit, folding her legs one way
then another, none of them comfortable. All of them too modest for him.

“Sit cross-legged,” he said. “Pull up your skirt so I can
see your cunt.”

Her gaze darted everywhere as though someone might be
listening. She pressed her skirt between her legs. “What else is in the
basket?” She reached for it.

Dante pulled it away. “Show me yours and I’ll show you
mine.”

Lauren snickered. After checking out their surroundings and
seeing that they were alone, though technically exposed, she folded back her
skirt.

“Higher,” Dante ordered. “Push it above your bush. Hell,
forget that. Take it off.”

She spoke demurely, “The hair doesn’t come off.”

“You know what I mean. Lose the skirt.”

Lauren lifted it to the edge of her cunt and left it at
that.

Dante narrowed his eyes. “You do realize I could spank you
out here and Gabe wouldn’t lift a finger to help you. Neither would any of the
other guys. They’d cheer me on.”

“Gabe? Guys?”

“The cop we just passed. The other officers on the force.”

She nodded. “Threaten me all you want. The skirt doesn’t
move until you show me yours.”

“You asked for it.” He pulled two bottles of Skol from the
basket along with foil-wrapped packages and a paper bag. Quickly, Lauren peeked
at the goods. “You brought French fries and sandwiches?”

She sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed.

“Cubanos,” he corrected. Cuban sandwiches stuffed with
pulled pork, ham, Swiss cheese, dill pickles and mustard, the bread grilled to
perfection. “And plantain fries.”

Peeling back the foil, she moaned at the savory scent of the
sandwich then leaned over to look into the basket again.

Dante pulled a cloth napkin from it that he’d gotten from
his uncle’s restaurant. Although he handed the napkin to Lauren, she wasn’t
appeased. She kept craning her neck to see more of the basket when all he’d
left inside was his napkin and a bag of churros for dessert. “What did you
think I had in here?”

“Nothing.” She bit into her Cubano and made a throaty noise
that said she liked it.

Uh-uh, she wasn’t getting away with that. “Come on, tell
me.” He ran his hand up her naked thigh, stopping short of her pussy.

Lauren swallowed. Her lips were shiny with juice from the
ham and pork. A smudge of mustard stained her lower lip. Dante wanted to lick
it off but didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not until he got an answer.

Finally, she said, “This is really good.”

He pulled back his hand. “If you don’t want to talk, just
say—”

“Cuffs,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I thought you had cuffs in the basket. Maybe even a
blindfold.” She shrugged. “And sex toys.”

Wow. Dante liked how she kept surprising him. He cupped his
rod and nuts. “My toys go everywhere I do. As far as a blindfold’s concerned…”

With his napkin between his hands, Dante whipped the fabric
over until it was narrow enough to cover her eyes.

“Come here,” he ordered.

Lauren lowered her sandwich from her mouth. Dante’s napkin
looked ominous somehow, exciting too. Swallowing hard, she lowered her Cubano
and leaned toward him.

The moment he put the napkin over her eyes, plunging her
into full darkness, Lauren’s other senses kicked in. She tasted the lingering
tang of the mustard and the saltiness of the ham. The heavenly fragrance of
pork and cheese mingled with the sultry air and Dante’s scent. Male and musky.
One thousand percent man.

Shivering in delight, she heard the ends of the napkin rasp
against each other as he tied them. Leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. A car
passed in the distance. Someone called out, the voice too far away for her to
understand the words or to know the speaker’s sex.

She wondered if that person would eventually come here. If
he or she would see what Dante was doing. He’d lifted her skirt to her waist,
tucking it in the band so it’d stay up, exposing her cunt. Warm air licked her
damp folds. The paper bag crinkled. She flinched.

“Easy,” Dante said. A moment later, he ran the edge of a
plantain fry across her lips and whispered, “Eat.”

Lauren munched on the mouthwatering fry, sweet and salty,
crispy on the outside, soft in the middle. Reaching his fingers, she licked
salt from them, wanting to taste him.

He took Lauren’s sandwich from her and brushed the edge of
it against her mouth. Obediently, she took a bite but forgot to chew. Dante’s
other hand was on her curls, his thumb stroking her nub.

She whimpered. Rubbing lightly, he ordered, “Eat. Or this
stops.”

Damn. He didn’t want her to have to choose between her two
favorite things, food and sex. Was any other man as great?

Lauren ate with abandon, knowing her appetite pleased Dante
rather than putting him off. Her bites and chews kept time with her mounting
arousal. All too soon, it captured all of her attention. Her pussy was beyond
congested, needing immediate relief. Her body burned for completion. When he
offered more of her sandwich, she pushed it away.

Dante pressed his cheek to hers, his stubble deliciously
rough against her skin. “Had enough?”

“Of the food. Not you.”
Never you.
There wasn’t
enough time left in Lauren’s life to ever get her fill of him.

He kissed her ear and eased back. The foil rattled slightly.
He must have dropped what was left of her Cubano on it. In the next moment,
Dante eased her down to the blanket and dragged Lauren’s arms above her head.
He held her wrists in one hand and rested his other on her naked belly, his
fingers dangling over the edge to her clit.

Never had she felt as naked, even when she’d been fully
nude. Then, she’d been inside a building. Out here, each brush of the breeze
underscored how vulnerable she was, how deliciously bared. Every touch from him
had her sighing in delight.

If anyone came by now she and Dante were seriously screwed
and not only because of what they were doing. Lauren doubted even a crowd of
voyeurs or every cop on the force could have encouraged her to stop. This was
too wicked to resist. She gritted her teeth to muffle her throaty groans and
tried to delay her climax.

No good. Her body knew what it had to have. So did her
heart. It opened even more to Dante when it shouldn’t have but Lauren couldn’t
help herself.

As he stroked her clit soft, hard then soft again, the
pressure between her legs built, becoming intolerable yet wholly desired. She
tensed and held her breath. Dante rubbed even faster.

Lauren let out a low moan and came joyously, her back
arching with the force of her stunning pleasure. The waves of warmth and
sensations left her trembling and weak. Her chest heaved with her struggle to
take in enough air.

He leaned over her, the ends of his hair skimming her
cheeks. “Doing okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mind if I eat?”

Hell no. Lauren spread her legs, offering her pussy to him,
wanting his cock in her mouth, his balls dangling above her upper lip so she
could smell them.

Rather than straddling her and getting to it, he scooted
back. Foil crinkled. The bag rustled.

She whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Eating.”

It sounded as if his mouth was full. She pulled off the
blindfold and propped herself on her elbows. Dante finished a swig of beer and
dove back into his Cubano. On her hands and knees, Lauren crawled to him. She
licked mustard from the corner of his mouth. “I thought you were going to eat
me…I thought we’d eat each other.”

A grin spread across his face. “Later—don’t ask when.”

Her mouth closed. She sat on her heels, content to watch him
enjoy his meal without hesitation or restraint, so comfortable with her he
could be himself. He even licked his fingers until Lauren took his hand and did
it for him.

She relaxed between his legs as he fed her the rest of the
fries and insisted she finish her sandwich. After downing it and her beer, she
sagged against his hard chest. A few stars winked through the thin clouds that
blurred the moon, softening the night even more.

Wishing they could stay here forever, knowing they couldn’t,
she murmured, “This was nice.”

“Was?” Dante leaned down and whispered in her ear, “It’s not
over. It’s not even close to the next level.”

With his arm around Lauren’s waist, Dante guided her through
the grounds. The area was so quiet he heard gravel crunching beneath their
sandals before they reached more grass. In the distance, a dog’s faint barking
rang out. Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb them as it hushed through
the bushes, trees and flowers.

Snuggled against his side, she regarded the tranquil scene,
her practicality and worries apparently forgotten for the moment, replaced by
curiosity and a hunger as deep as his own. He watched her eyeing the jungle
gym, possibly thinking he’d tie her to it then play with every part of her
delectable body. When he didn’t, she studied each of the picnic tables they
approached as though he’d take her there.

They passed them too.

Lauren didn’t ask why, nor did she question. She let him
lead the way.

He loved seeing her eager and trusting. The woman he sensed
she really was and might always have been if Frank hadn’t shattered her world
when she’d been small and helpless. Dante knew it took a lot for Lauren to put
her faith in anyone, especially a guy. For her to have even agreed to tonight
meant the world to him. She had faith that he’d do the right thing and wouldn’t
deliberately hurt her.

Dante wasn’t a saint by any means, but he’d never lied to
get into a woman’s panties. Nor had he ever promised something he had no
intention of delivering. How any man could do that to a woman, he didn’t know.
Dante had watched the way his father treated his mother, the respect they had
for each other. To him, it seemed natural and a standard he’d always set for
himself.

Lauren’s pace slowed when she caught sight of the small pond
just ahead. The only things circling it were a few benches. No bushes or trees.
Dante wondered if she thought he’d head there. The location was sufficiently
romantic and decidedly exposed, unlike the banyan that had offered deeper
shadows beneath its branches, pretty much hiding them completely. When he
walked Lauren past the pond, her body tensed against his. Restless now, she
kept glancing from side to side, scoping out the landscape, surely wondering
where they’d stop.

It wasn’t far.

Her steps slowed when she saw it, forcing Dante to pull her
along. Lauren finally matched his pace and breathed, “Seriously?”

He pretended not to understand. “What?”

“The merry-go-round.” She pointed at the gold-and-white
carousel complete with painted horses and surrounded by a white picket fence.
“We’re going to ride on that?”

He tightened his arm around her waist in a brief hug. “We’re
going to ride each other.”

“On that? Get out.”

“Do you doubt me?”

“God no,” she breathed.

Her frank endorsement made him grin. Hell, it boosted his
testosterone level by a thousand percent, which made his cock feel huge and his
clothes too restrictive. Reaching the ride, he put the basket on the concrete
then vaulted over the short fence. “Come on, I’ll help you over.” He offered
Lauren his hand.

She gave him a look that said
not a chance.
Studying
the fence, she strolled around its perimeter until she’d reached the gate and
entered the usual way.