“I’d say so.”
She’s cracking up by the time I park the car, and as we stroll arm and arm towards the entrance she looks at me and shakes her head; “Seriously? A Renaissance faire?”
I grin; “Hey, might as well put that one semester to use huh?” She rolls her eyes and I pull her to me and kiss her hard as she melts into me. “You know,” I say, breaking away for a second; “I think it’s good for you to get out of that city sometimes. Now c’mon Senator, let’s go get us some culture.”
“Oh, culture? Is that what we’re here for?” She nods towards two guys dressed in actual metal armor chugging enormous steins of beer while a woman dressed as some sort of tavern wench with her tits half hanging out cheers them on and shouts things like “m’lord.”
I shrug; “Well, you know, someone’s culture.”
She laughs, hugging my arm tighter in the chill of the air, and then we’re laughing as she loops her arm through mine and we stroll through fair-grounds.
“Why do I feel like I’m in high school or something right now?”
I laugh; “Were you a big Dungeons and Dragon’s kid in high school?”
“No!” She rolls her eyes at me in that adorable way that just makes me smile; “No I mean strolling around a fair like this, renaissance or not.” She shrugs; “I always wanted to stroll around a fairgrounds with some hot boy on my arm.” She raises her eyes and looks at me, a blush of pink spreading over her cheeks.
“Oh, what, like you didn’t have guys beating down your door to stroll around anywhere with you back then?”
She shrugs; “Nope, I guess not. Com’on, you met me during that phase, back at that graduation party.”
I stare at her like she’s insane; “Yeah, and you were a fucking knockout.”
“I was a bookworm.”
“Yeah and that’s worked out terribly for you, hasn’t it Madame State Senator.” I shake my head at her as she giggles; “And besides, I did meet you back then, and you were, and remain, a total babe.”
She grins and pulls me in for a kiss; “So, how’s the fairground fantasy so far, Archer?” I murmur into her lips.
She laughs and looks around us until her eyes fixate on something behind us; “Well, you could go win me that stuffed dragon over there, that might make it complete.” She winks at me and leans close; “You might even get lucky later if you do.”
I arch my eyebrows, already feeling my cock stir in my pants; “Lucky- like I get to pick what we listen to on the way home?” I grin, knowingly baiting her.
She leans in again and brushes her lips across my ear; “Oh I meant lucky like you get to bend me over the hood of your car and fuck me like you mean it on the way home.”
She pulls away and winks at me, and I’m practically speechless; “You know I could just buy you the fucking toy and we could get to that part now.” She giggles as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the game stands, and I’m wondering how I’m going to throw a fucking knife with a hard-on threatening to tear through my pants.
Both Reagan and the guy dressed like a jester stare at me with their jaws on the ground when I manage to not only hit the bullseye on the first throw, but then subsequently split the handle of that first knife with the second and then third throws. I shrug and grin smugly at the guy as he wordlessly passes me the stuffed toy before I turn to bestow it on Reagan.
“Ok, where the hell did you-”
“Eh, it’s just this thing I can do.” I don’t need to tell her that back in Africa, throwing knives were like the chess game of the mercenary circuit.
She’s just shaking her head at me though as she laughs and slips her hand into mine; “I don’t want to know, do I?”
I laugh; “Someday, but for now, there’s some fried dough over there with our name on it; classic fairground fantasy fodder.” She wrinkles her nose at the mention of fried dough, but I pull her close and kiss her; “And then, don’t think I’m not going to take you up on that offer of bending you over that car and fucking that sweet pussy of yours.” I growl, nodding with my chin at the stuffed dragon in her hand and letting her feel how hard I am as I press against her.
“You promise?” She whispers, her voice thick.
I do manage to get her to eat fried dough, and we drink hot cider, and even watch a damned jousting match, and it’s amazing. No one knows her here; no one gives a shit who she is, and that’s a good thing. We laugh, and we’re making out in public like two idiot teenagers, and we’re invisible to the world around us. Out here, she’s not some hotshot politician. Out here, in my arms, she’s just a beautiful girl, kissing the luckiest guy in the damn world.