Almost Paradise (Sinners on Tour Book 8) (2 page)

Rebekah’s mouth dropped open when the needle aggravated a particularly sensitive pain receptor. She wasn’t sure if she should cry out in pain or pleasure. Eric’s hand slid to her upper thigh and he leaned close.

“Do you want me inside you?” Eric whispered into her ear.

“Yes.”

“Right here?”

“Yes,” she responded louder.

“Right now?”

“Yes!”

“Butch, unless you want to watch me fuck her in this chair, you should probably take your lunch break right now and lock the front door behind you on your way out.”

“Uh,” Butch said as he lowered the tattoo gun.

“Are you finished?” Rebekah asked, disappointment settling in her chest.

“Not quite.”

“Let him finish,” Rebekah said to Eric. “I can wait.”

“Maybe,” Eric said. “But I can’t.”

“I could send you home so you can have some alone time with your hand,” Rebekah teased. She gasped brokenly when Butch got back to work with his needle.

Eric slid his fingers into her hair and clenched them into a fist. “If you don’t stop turning me on with those little noises and those faces you’re making—”

“And with my hard, achy nipples and drenched, swollen pussy?” she goaded him.

Butch set his tattoo gun aside and stood. “Uh, I need to go home for a few and have some alone time with
my
hand. You two get this out of your system before I return so I can concentrate on my work.”

He walked rather woodenly toward the front door, pulled the shade down, switched off the neon open sign, and exited the shop with a little wave.

Before the lock had even turned, Eric had his jeans around his knees and his fingers fumbling at the waist of Rebekah’s shorts.

“Jeez, Eric,” she said. “You have absolutely no self-control.”

“Your fault,” he murmured before he claimed her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

She was already too turned on to make him stop, so she grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled upward, separating their mouths only long enough to relieve herself of the stifling garment. Eric unfastened the front hook of her bra and then filled his palms with her aching breasts—squeezing and twisting the heavy globes, pinching her stiff nipples.

“Yes,” she cried into his seeking mouth. She wanted it rough.

She helped him yank off her shorts, kicking them aside impatiently as she scooted to the edge of the chair, where she wrapped her limbs around Eric and pulled him tightly against her. The pain in her raw, newly tattooed arm only excited her further.

“Fuck me,” she growled into his ear before biting his lobe. “I ache for you.”

“What you do to me, woman,” he complained as he grabbed her hips. “I’ll never get enough of you. Ever.”

She was counting on that. He was hard as granite as he sank into her with a deep thrust. She cried out, so turned on by their unusual foreplay that she climaxed immediately. “Oh God, Eric.”

He fucked her with deep, hard thrusts and then leaned back slightly to rub her clit with rapid, thought-shattering strokes.

“Keep coming, baby,” he encouraged, rubbing her faster, faster.

As if she had a choice. Her toes curled, feet tingling as ripples of bliss pulsed through her body and her pussy clenched rhythmically on his cock.

He drew her pleasure out until she grabbed his hand to stop his sweet torture, and then she squeezed his tight ass to encourage him to thrust. She felt hugely satisfied after that mind-blowing orgasm, but she still had an itch deep inside that only the rhythmic pounding of his cock would drive away.

“I love you,” she said, kissing his chest through his T-shirt. “You’re my everything.”

“That’s my line.”

She peeked up at him and smiled. She’d probably always covet his looks of lust, but those looks of love? Those were the ones that made her chest fill with so many tender feelings, she feared her heart might burst.

His cock drove into her hard and deep, but the kiss he offered as he bent to taste her lips was all gentle and filled with tender care. He shifted her hips off the edge of the paper-covered vinyl chair and pulled her onto him so deep. Her head fell back and she moaned.

Their bodies moved together, caught in a sensual rhythm that built in intensity until Eric’s face contorted and he shuddered, drawing her tight against him. Eventually, his breathing slowed and the thud of his heart against her shoulder calmed.

“I love you, wife,” he said, kissing her cheek, her nose, her forehead, her jaw, her ear.

“I know the feeling.” She squirmed away just enough to look up into his face. She didn’t want to give up the deep union of their bodies just yet. “Husband.”

“Are you sure you want to go on a road trip for our honeymoon?” he asked, rocking his hips slightly, intensifying the feel of that coveted connection between them. “What if the sudden need to be buried inside you overcomes me while we’re in the middle of nowhere? We both know the Corvette doesn’t have enough room for fucking.”

“You’ll just have to—” Her breath caught as he shifted her back onto the chair edge and slowly withdrew. He didn’t pull out completely, though. Instead, he slid into her again, so slowly it robbed her of the ability to speak. After a moment, she collected her thoughts enough to finish her sentence. “You’ll just have to wait until we find a hotel.”

He brushed her hair from her heated cheeks and urged her head back so she’d look at him. “You know I won’t be able to wait. Not with you sitting beside me all day.”

“I’ll figure out a solution to your road-trip horniness.”

He grinned at her and nibbled on her lip. “Will it involve my cock in your mouth?”

She chuckled. “You know I’m more creative than that. Besides, I’ll be just as turned on by that
solution
as you are. I’m not giving you three blow jobs a day if you don’t reciprocate.”

“Only three?” He shook his head. “I was told I’d get less sex after marriage, but not in the newlywed stage.”

She slapped his ass. “I’m not sure how you can think well enough to talk right now,” she said. “Maybe you don’t find me attractive now that I’m legally yours.”

“And that’s why I forced my old pal Butch to close up shop in the middle of giving you a tattoo.” His sarcasm was so thick he should have choked on it. “We’re going to have to lock ourselves in a cushy hotel room on some tropical island and do nothing but fuck for the next two weeks. I can’t be expected to function without a
real
honeymoon.”

But going to a tropical paradise instead of Maine would totally ruin her surprise. She needed to get him to Bangor not for the where or even the when, but because of at least two whos. Rebekah wasn’t sure Eric would agree to meet members of his lost family if he knew she’d found them. She figured it was best to get him in their general location and then tell him about her discovery. Then he couldn’t use the excuse of distance to refuse to meet them. But maybe she could compromise on this honeymoon thing. She did want him to be deliriously happy. And two weeks of alone time was guaranteed to keep smiles on both their faces.

“How about we catch a flight from Bangor and then spend a week in Tahiti? We can have the car shipped back.”

“So drive to Bangor first and then fly south to thaw out my frozen ass?”

“Oh, baby,” she purred, massaging his smooth ass with both hands. “You know I’d never let your ass freeze.”

“I’m in,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. “You’d better make these surprises worth my while.”

“Or you’ll what?” she challenged, though she was sure he’d be delighted with the trip she had planned. It was their final destination that worried her. She couldn’t predict how he’d react to meeting his grandparents. He wouldn’t file for a divorce, would he?

“I’ll withhold dick from you for a month.”

He was beginning to grow soft inside her, but he pushed deeper, apparently so she’d appreciate the magnitude of his threat.

Rebekah pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, but it burst from her throat. She snorted before laughing so hard, her stomach hurt. “Y-you?” she sputtered, still cracking up. “Are going to withhold sex?” She pointed to her chest. “From me?”

“That’s right,” he said, looking about as serious as he was capable of looking.

“For a
month
?” She was laughing so hard that she collapsed sideways in the chair and wrapped both arms around her waist to keep herself from guffawing her guts out.

“You don’t think I can go a month without sex?” He lifted his eyebrows at her. “I’ve had to go without a lot longer than that in the past.”

“Yeah, but that was before you married a woman as horny as you are.”

His crooked grin made her all tingly inside. Or maybe the sensation was just the aftereffects of laughing so hard.

“You wouldn’t last a day,” she added.

“A day?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Do you really think I’m that desperate for pussy?”

She bit her lip and nodded. She pushed at his chest until he backed away and his softened cock fell free of her body. Traces of his cum dribbled down her ass and pooled on the sterile white paper covering the chair. Legs wide, she slipped a finger into her exposed opening, collecting their combined fluids and slid it into her mouth. His cock twitched as it began to thicken with renewed interest. The man had a miraculously short recovery time. She wondered if there was an official world record for how long it took a guy to get hard for a second go. Or in Eric’s case, a third or a fourth time.

“You really think you can resist this pussy for an entire day?” she challenged.

From the way he was staring at her slippery folds, he wouldn’t be able to resist for ten seconds.

He licked his lips and then slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. “No problem,” he said hoarsely. “How about a wager?”

She grinned. She did love a challenge.

“If I win, we skip the road trip,” he said, “and go directly to Tahiti for two weeks.”

“And if I win,” she said, “when we get to Bangor at the end of our road trip, you have to grant me one wish without argument.”

He crinkled his brow. “Seriously, Rebekah, what the fuck is in Bangor?”

She smiled at him and leaned forward to rest both wrists on his shoulders. “You’ll see.”

“Fine,” he said. “It’s a bet. Anything to get out of going to Maine in December.” He shivered as if they were already there.

Oh, he’d be going on this road trip. Rebekah and her irresistible pussy would win this bet no matter how dirty they had to play.

They used Butch’s employees-only bathroom to clean up. While she slipped back into her clothes, Eric tore off the white paper cover on the tattoo chair and replaced it with a new clean length. “We need one of these big paper rolls for the tour bus bed,” Eric said.

Rebekah laughed, though it wasn’t a terrible idea. That bed did get a lot of use, and they went through a lot of laundry soap washing all those sheets.

“I’m totally not joking,” Eric said. “I’ll run the idea by the guys.”

A timid knock sounded at the door. Rebekah yanked her tank top down to cover her bra, and Eric went to let Butch back into his shop.

“Is it safe to come in?” Butch asked, peering around the open door as if expecting to be ambushed by a gang of hoodlums. “Do I need to get out the black light to aid my disinfecting?”

“It’s safe,” Rebekah said.

He entered the room and reached for a spray bottle labeled bleach.

“Sorry about that,” Eric said. “Actually, I’m not sorry. I got some.” He made a fist and exchanged a bro tap with his friend’s knuckles.

“I got you a present.” Butch handed Eric a small cardboard envelope. Eric studied it and laughed.

“What is it?” Rebekah asked, standing on tiptoes but unable to see over Eric’s shoulder. He had a good foot on her.

“I don’t think Butch wants us to fuck in his chair again.” Eric held out a key card from a nearby hotel.

“Next time you need a fuck break,” Butch said, “I’ll drive you myself. Consider that your wedding present.”

“Thanks,” Eric said, “but we just made a bet, so I won’t need this today.”

He tried to hand the key card back to Butch, but Rebekah jerked it out of his hand and slid it into the front pocket of her jeans. “Don’t be so hasty. I still have a third of a sleeve to get tattooed today. You will have a hard-on again by the time he’s finished with me, I guarantee it.”

“I don’t doubt that I will,” Eric said, “but our bet wasn’t that I wouldn’t get hard. And it wasn’t that I wouldn’t enjoy as much self-love as I want.”

“What did you bet?” Butch asked, spraying and wiping and spraying and wiping every surface imaginable.

“That I wouldn’t have sex with her for an entire day. Heck, I’ve already made it five or six minutes.” Eric crossed his arms over his chest, looking entirely too smug for such a minor accomplishment.

“That’s the stupidest bet I’ve ever heard,” Butch said as he cleaned up his station to start with new ink and a fresh needle.

Jeez, how much hepatitis does he think we have?
Rebekah wondered.