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He hit the supports hard. The entire frame rattled. The metal rails were narrower than he’d expected, wet and hard to grip. Blood streaked the white paint, and he realized the rusted metal had sliced into his hands.
It didn’t hurt yet.
That meant it would hurt a lot later.
He swung his legs until he found purchase, then looped an arm around the support to take the pressure off his palms.
He took a glance. His hands were a mess.
Then he heard another scream and realized there were a lot of people a lot worse off than he was.
Hunter started to climb. It was like this stupid Ferris wheel had been built precisely to frustrate him, because each support was about a foot too far from the next for him to reach. He had to climb in, toward the center, before he could start climbing down.
His hands were still bleeding. They kept slipping.
Something hit the Ferris wheel and sent a shudder through the frame. He swore and had to loop an arm to stay upright. Had some idiot tried to follow him?
Yes. Kate.
She’d taken the impact better than he had—or maybe she’d just learned from watching him. She’d caught the bars with her arms, and now sat braced in the corner where two supports met. Hunter felt a moment of panic, wondering if he should climb up to help her—or continue climbing down.
But then she started to move, and he realized he should be following her lead.
Kate moved like a frigging acrobat. She twisted between the supports as if they’d been assembled specifically for her use. She’d almost caught up to him in a quarter of the time it had taken him to cross the same distance.
She looked like she belonged in a movie, her blond hair and fair skin striking against the backdrop of the Ferris wheel lightbulbs and the smoky blaze behind her.
“Seriously,” she called. “The staring?”
He shook himself and kept climbing. His palms burned but he ignored it.
The ride had stopped between passengers, so no car sat by the booth. The wheel stopped about ten feet above the platform—which was a six-foot square with a tiny operator booth, sitting about ten feet above the ground.
osed his eyes. Focus. “I thought you were bluffing.”
She caught his earlobe with her lips, then her teeth, sucking it into her mouth.
He felt it all the way through his body. He gasped and had to catch her waist with both hands, still unsure whether he wanted to push her away—or pull her closer.
One of her hands sneaked under his jacket, stroking across his chest with her fingertips. Her lips moved to his neck, and she caught the skin there with her teeth.
He wasn’t going to be able to talk in a second. “Kate,” he said. “Kate—”
She arched into his hands, grabbing one of his wrists and forcing his hand higher on her body, until his palm was over her breast and his thumb was brushing intimate things through the fabric of her shirt.
Hunter hissed a breath through his teeth and had to shift on the bench. It felt like the Ferris wheel was spinning fiercely yet simultaneously standing still. He could only see lights and stars and the glowing halo of her hair.
This time when her mouth fell on his, he didn’t pull away at all. Her tongue slipped between his teeth, teasing at his until he sat up straighter, his free hand at the small of her back, just inside the waistband of her jeans, pulling her closer. He felt silk and lace and skin under his fingertips. All at once, clothes were an irritation, and he moaned into her mouth, drawing at her tongue until she was panting against him.
He was dangerously close to the farthest he’d ever gone with a girl, and here he barely knew her. Instead of that being a deterrent, he never wanted it to stop. The hell with the fires, the hell with his living situation—if he could spend the rest of his life in this Ferris wheel car, doing this exact thing, it would totally be fine.
And then she caught his wrist again, making his hand go still against her. “Easy,” she breathed.
He froze and moved his other hand to safer ground, too. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a whispered rasp of sound. God, he wanted to crack his head on the metal wall of this car. Five minutes ago he’d been pissed at her, and now he didn’t want to stop touching her. How had he lost control like that?
But her eyes were so close, sparking with light. “Are you imagining me na**d again?”
“Ah . . . only in the most respectful way.”
