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“And sweet. They do the job just fine.” He pushed up the hem of her T-shirt. Just a few inches. Just far enough to expose the only other garment she wore, some unimaginative, nude-colored, hip-hugger panties.
“I’m buying you a thong,” he said. “Red.”
“Which you’ll never see.”
“How do you figure?” He moved the beam across the panties from one hip bone to the other, then back to home base.
“If I do this—”
“Oh, you’re doing it all right.”
“If I do it,” she said, “it’s a one-shot deal. And I’m on top.”
“Top, bottom, upside down. I’ll bend you more ways than you can imagine.”
A bolt of erotic lightning buzzed through her. Her toes curled.
“But first…” He touched the working end of the flashlight to the crotch of her panties, rubbed the hard case over the nylon for a few tantalizing seconds, then used it to push up the hem of her T-shirt. The cold plastic came to rest on the skin just beneath her breasts, sending a dim pinwheel across her bare rib cage. He cupped one breast through the soft cotton. “I can’t wait to taste.”
She nearly moaned. Her libido was way out of touch with her sexual politics.
“Which part of you am I going to unwrap first?” The flashlight beam danced over her. She watched as if she were hypnotized, waiting to see where the beam would land. It played across her covered breasts, her bare midriff, the crotch of her panties. Then it hit her square in the eyes. She squinted, the mattress sagged, and his denim-clad hip brushed her own as he dropped the flashlight onto the bed.
“Let’s start here.” His words fell across her cheek as his mouth dipped to meet hers, and she lost herself in the craziest kiss she’d ever experienced, soft one second, tough the next. He teased and tormented, demanded and seduced. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, but he drew away. “Don’t do that again,” he said with a rough gasp. “I see right through your tricks.”
She had tricks?
“You’re determined to distract me, but it’s not going to work.” He pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her only in her panties. He whipped up the flashlight and shone it on her breasts. Being less than a D-cup wasn’t always a bad thing, she decided. Her barely Bs sat up firm and ready for whatever was to come.
Which was his mouth.
His bare chest rubbed against her ribs as he suckled her, and her fingers dug into the mattress. He took his time, using his lips, his tongue. The careful scrape of his teeth stimulated her until she couldn’t bear it anymore. She pushed his head away.
“You’re not getting off that easy,” he whispered, his hot breath taunting her wet flesh. He hooked his thumbs in her panties and drew them down, then tossed them aside and stood up. The abandoned flashlight rested under the sheet, so she couldn’t see what lay beneath those jeans. She began to reach for the light, then stopped herself. He was always the object of desire, the one pursued and ministered to. Let him service her instead.
She slipped her hand back under the covers and flicked off the switch, plunging the caravan into darkness. The novelty of continuing this erotic game left her as boneless as his caresses, but the darkness also meant she needed to make certain he remembered he was dealing with Blue Bailey, not some faceless woman. “Good luck,” she managed to say. “I’m hard to satisfy with less than a two-man team.”
“In your dirty dreams.” His jeans hit the floor with a soft whoosh. “Now where’s that flashlight?” His hand grazed her side as he felt for it. Flicking the switch back on, he pulled it from under the sheet, then let the beam trickle over her naked body, from her breasts, to her belly, and below. He stopped. “Open up, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Let me see.”
It was too much, and she nearly shattered right there. He parted her unresisting thighs, and the flashlight’s cold plastic chilled the inner slope of her skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, looking his fill.
After that, she knew only sensation. Fingers parting and probing. Lips seeking. Her own hands exploring everything she’d been wanting to touch and stroke and weigh for so long.
Her small body received his with perfect resistance. Tender musk and rugged velvet. They moved together. The flashlight fell to the floor. He pressed deep within her, withdrew, and pressed again. She arched, demanded, dueled with him…and, finally, accepted.
Making love without indoor plumbing wasn’t nearly as romantic as it seemed. “How did the pioneers handle this?” she complained. “I need a bathroom.”
“We’ll use your T-shirt. You can burn it tomorrow. Please, God.”
“If you say another word about my T-shirt…”
“Give it here.”
“Hey, watch where you’re…” She sucked in her breath as he put her T-shirt to a most inventive use.
She didn’t make it on top the second time, either. By the third time, however, she managed to invert the power structure. Or, since she had possession of the flashlight, she at least thought she’d inverted it. But the truth was, she’d gotten a little foggy about who was servicing whom and exactly what the political ramifications were. One thing was for certain. She could never again taunt him with “Speed Racer.”
They dozed off. Her little berth in the back of the caravan wasn’t long enough for his tall frame, but he stayed there anyway, one arm around her shoulders.
