“Damn…” I rake a hand through my hair, writhing in frustration. “Please, fucking please let me make you feel good, Trouble.”
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She smiles and licks a drop of blood from my lip. “Give it to me hard and fast. By the time we get off this Ferris wheel, I want my legs shakin’ and your cum drippin’ down my thighs.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I fold one hand around her throat and spit on the fingers of the other, reaching under her skirt. Tally gasps when I find her clit. I rut into her, making her full tits bounce and the cabin swings with every thrust. Dragging her bottom lip between my teeth, I choke herharder.
Pleasure cascades along my spine. I’m so close. Pressure rises from my balls and I feel my cock thickening with my immediate release. The waves of Tally’s orgasm strangle my dick and as I spill into her, the Ferris wheel jerks into motion.
“Shit,” I moan.
“We have about fifteen seconds to right ourselves,” Tally pants, frantically climbing off me to pull down her skirt.
I tuck away my cock, swearing as I fiddle with my zipper. When we reach the bottom, I just about finish buckling my belt and we giggle like teens, stumbling out of the cabin hand in hand.
The old guy raises a brow at us. “Y’all had fun?”
Tally throws her head back, laughing. “Oh, yes. The best ride of my life! Definitely song material. I can feel the inspiration positively flowing out of me.”
I lean in as we walk away, whispering, “Isinspirationa euphemism for my cum glazing your thick thighs?”
“Could be,” she responds smugly.
“Fuck, I love the thought that you’re gonna walk around the fair with my seed dripping out of you.”
Tally blushes. “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m still winning our crime competition. That was a pretty fire you started with your wrench, but I got vehicular manslaughter puttin’ me way ahead of you.”
“Accidentalvehicular manslaughter, ma’am. But my fire wasveryintentional.”
She waves a hand. “Accidental. Shmaccidental. The point is, I’m the better outlaw cause my crime would get me a prison sentence. You’d get like, maybe a fine. Heavy on the maybe.” She makes an L-shape with her fingers and holds it to her forehead. “Loser.”
I scoff. “Pardon me, Miss Creed. Are you daring me to be worse?”
She bites her lip. “What if I wanna see how bad you can be?”
“Challenge accepted.”
If Tally likes me breaking the law, I’ll give her what she craves. And I already got an idea to prove that I’m the outlaw of her dreams.
36
TALLY
The afternoonat the county fair passes in a flash. We eat funnel cakes, cheese curds and turkey legs, watching livestock shows and quilt judging.
In the early evening, we drive on and spend the night in a motel in a rural one-horse town. The owner of the only bar gratefully accepts our offer to play for free. Together.
By the time we drop into bed I’m wore slap out, but my brain buzzes. I fall asleep with my notebook and pen in hand and wake up in Rust’s arms. My things have been neatly set aside on the nightstand and my Stetson balances on top of the bedside lamp.
It’s those small things he does for me that show how deeply he cares. It’s those casually sweet gestures that make me want to forget we shouldn’t be more than friends with benefits.
And my creativity is overflowing. I have a million ideas. It’ll be hard to decide which songs are gonna make it on the final album. I’ve got page after page of hooks andmelodies written out. That’s more than I’ve managed to come up with in years. With Rust, it’s only taken me a few days.
And the best part? Every song is inspired by our adventures.
The revised and completed version of ‘Love’s an Outlaw’ is my favorite, but I love them all because they remind me of him. They remind me of us.
While Rust drives, I bury my nose in my notebook, strumming chords and repeating fragments of melodies while I come up with lyrics. Singular words turn into verses and bridges and choruses.
