Page 38 of Never Till Now

“Let’s get to it, Charmer.” She gives me a playful smirk and takes my hand, leading us back to the road.

We walk among families on bicycles, tourists sporting giant cameras, and a setup of tents by the giant clock tower ferry building. Fresh produce fills the tables as the locals get their groceries. The noise of cars, conversations, boat horns, and street music brings the city to life. We stop in front of street musicians and I can’t fight my smile. I toss a few bills into their jar as the steel drums transport us to the Caribbean.

“This is amazing.” Lauren grins as my heart skips. “I could listen to them for hours.”

“They’ve always been my favorite entertainment.” I give her hand a squeeze and realize we’re still holding hands.

Is this too couple-y? Or simply two friends enjoying the day?

She’d let me know if there was a problem. Lauren pulls me out of thought as we continue walking past the street vendors. We pass a row of uneventful empty buildings before we reach the tourist hot spots.

“I bet all these kids will sleep really well after walking this strip.” She laughs and watches a parent chase after a young boy.

“I bring Mallory and James down here sometimes when it’s not too busy. Golden Gate Park is their favorite though.”

“You’re such a good uncle.” She stops walking and I turn toward her. “They’re really lucky to have you.” Her dark glasses cover her eyes, but the hint of pain in her voice is noticeable.

“I try. Need to give them deathbed memories as you call them.”

“We should go up that tube tower.” She nods to the hill across the street.

“That tube is Coit Tower. We can go there at sunset.”

We reach Pier 39 and are greeted with crowds and little shops. The mix of fried fish and waffle cones hit my nose at the same time, yet the scent combo works. Lauren stays wide eyed and quiet until we pass the ice cream shop.

“I’ll need to stop in there before we head back.”

We make our way in and out of all the little shops. Lauren looks to her right and raises her eyebrows. “I’ve always wanted a pair of cowboy boots.” We stand outside a western shop and the smell of leather hits us.

“I’ll buy you some if you promise to strut around my place in a pair of cutoff shorts and a button-up shirt that ties under your breasts.” I’m not sure what sparked this fantasy, but picturing Lauren in anything had been a turn-on.

“I can afford my own boots, thank you very much.” She pulls her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, revealing a challenge in her eyes. “I’ll wear whatever you want if you buy a cowboy hat.”

“Not going to happen.”

She reaches for a price tag on a large toy horse and smirks as I see an idea form. “Hey Adam, do you think my dildo will balance on this?”

“What did you just say?” I glanced around, relieved no one was in earshot.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll have a cowboy to ride.”

The pull this woman has over me is getting unreal. Role-play has never been a kink of mine or even crossed my mind. The fact that Lauren threatened to get pleasure from something other than me, heightens something primal within. Her smirk and assertive remark have me questioning if I really want to call her bluff. She lifts her leg over the horse, pretending to ride it. To someone walking by, they’d assume she wants an innocent photo. The way she’s deliberately making eye contact tells me she’s serious about the fucking cowboy hat. I’ve seen her take matters into her own hands twice now. As hot as it is to watch, I don’t want to be replaced by a fucking stuffed horse. I run my hand over my jaw and grab the first black hat I can find.

“Save the fucking horse, Lauren,” I huff as she shoots me a grin. “But don’t expect me to fuck you with this thing on my head.”

“Wow.” She removes my hat and sets it back on the shelf. “You really caved.” She laughs and takes my hand, pulling me out of the store.

“As if I’d watch you fuck a fake horse.” I shake my head.

“I wouldn’t.” She throws her head back in laughter and I can’t help but grip her chin and place my lips on hers.

“You’re a tease.” I place my hand over my chest.

“Sorry your cowgirl fantasy won’t be fulfilled.” We make our way toward the carousel. “I don’t even like country music.”

“What music do you like?”

“It’s not a normal genre people listen to.” She reaches her arm out to grab a fudge sample from a tray. “I love pop songs that are slowed down and covered on the piano.”