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Sinner(237)

By:Aubrey Irons


“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. C’mon, 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.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Reagan




P R E S E N T



“It looks so quiet from up here.”

I’d grinned and feel a little thrill of excitement shiver through me when Hudson swerved off the main road onto the turnoff I’d recognized before.

We’re back at our lookout spot on Bear Mountain looking out over the Hudson River and the shining lights of New York in the distance beyond that, just like we were all those years ago. Now though, it’s like I took every romantic fantasy I had back then and made them real. This time, we aren’t sitting on opposite sides, not touching and just sitting in our own unspoken feelings. This time, I’m snuggled right up against him, his arm is around my shoulders, and I’m leaning my head into his chest.

Our hands toy with each other, palms sliding together and fingers interlocking with fingers as we just stare out over the city in the stillness of the night.

“You’re right, you know,” I say, running my fingers over his wrist. “I do need to get out more often and just get away from all that.” I sigh. “Sometimes it just feels like I’m trapped in this whole act that isn’t even me. Like I’m just playing a part in this play and spilling out the lines from this character I wasn’t ever meant to play.”

“You should speak your mind and say what you wanna say more often, Archer.” He grins. “Hell, you don’t ever hold back with me and you’ve seemed to have gotten my attention.”