I glance down at my feet. Honestly, it hadn’t bothered me. I’m a chick who wears five-inch heels all of the time. I can run in flat sandals.

“Not a problem,” I tell him. “And I’m fine with ditching the boat. No biggie. I’m sorry for you—I know you were looking forward to your fast boat ride.”

He shrugs, then grins. “That’s all right. I’ve still got a shot with a fast woman.”

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “I don’t know what you think about me, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got it wrong. I’m not a slut. Do I like sex? Yeah. Of course I do. Do I fuck everyone I come into contact with? Of course not.”

He slides around the seats of the gondola until he’s sitting next to me. Even though the gondola is large, having all of our weight balanced on one side tips the car a little and I grab the edge, panicked.

Dominic laughs. “Afraid of heights?”

I shake my head, staring over the edge again. “No. I’m afraid of falling to an early death.”

“Oh, I won’t let anything hurt you,” he says smoothly and slides his arm around my shoulders. For a minute, the mood changes and I believe him. I can feel the muscle of his arm pulled taut against my back, and I know that if he wanted, he could protect me from all harm.

But it’s hard to say what Dominic wants… his mood changes with the wind.

“Why did you come to my house?” I ask him curiously, staring up at him, still nestled in the crook of his arm. He’s mere inches away, which makes it hard to concentrate. His thigh is pressed firmly against mine, sexiness exuding from every pore. I try seriously hard not to be impressed with him, but shit. He’s Dominic fucking Kinkaide. And he’s here with me.

Right now.

If I think about it, it’s daunting. So I try not to think about it.

He stares at me, laughter in his green eyes. “Why? Can’t I be spontaneous every once in a while?”

“Of course you can.” I sniff. “But you don’t even like me. You think that I got you into trouble with that pot and I’m the whole reason that you’re stuck in Chicago. I didn’t, by the way.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore what happened,” he answers easily. “It could’ve been Sin, for all I know. All that matters is that I’m stuck here. And since I am, I felt like making the most of it this afternoon. I was in the mood to have a little fun.”

“And has your mood changed?” I ask curiously. Getting chased by a boatful of rabid fans could understandably do that to a person.

He levels a gaze at me, one full of dark and naughty things, and I take a quick breath.

“No.”

With that, he reaches his other arm around me, his fingers playing with the hem of my frayed denim shorts, his skin on mine. “I’ve been wanting to do this since you bent over in front of me in your bedroom,” he whispers. “Your ass was bare and tight and I just wanted to plunge my dick into it.”

The world freezes and I inhale sharply as I stare into his eyes. Did he really just say that?

“Into my ass?” I ask breathlessly.

He nods. “You’d like it,” he answers knowingly, reaching around to slide his fingers under my leg, cupping my ass as he pulls me closer to him.

His fingers are strong, and long and for a minute I think about the naughtiness of what he’s suggesting. Why I’m not moving away from him, I don’t know. But I’m planted firmly in this seat and I don’t want to go anywhere.

I swallow hard. “I’ve… um, never done that.”

He laughs, a velvety sound. “Babe, I could show you a bunch of things you’ve never done. And I guarantee you’d like every one of them.”

For some reason, I have no doubt of that. It’s an exciting thought.

He bends his head and nips at my neck, then soothes the bite with a soft suck. His lips, so soft and smooth, ease the pain of the bite away. His nearness is intoxicating, and everything about him screams that he is capable of so many things… things that would please me… things that would embarrass me in the light of day.

But still, I don’t move. I stay right with him, my gaze frozen on his.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he slowly dips his head and plunges his tongue into my mouth, completely plundering it, consuming me yet again. It’s like he can’t kiss me without devastating all of my senses at once, annihilating my thoughts and causing my blood to throb as it all races toward one destination… the V between my legs.

Right where I ache for him.

He’s like a drug… and one taste just isn’t enough.

I open up my mouth and breathe around his lips, sucking in air, grasping at his back and pulling him closer. He reaches back and grabs my hands, holding them together at my wrists and pinning them over my head against the Plexiglas gondola cage. I’m trapped here with him, yet there’s no place I’d rather be.

The energy around us now is primal and raw… and it’s exhilarating too, because we’re out in public. Every time the gondola swoops along the ground before it begins its upward ascent, anyone could look in and see what we’re doing. They could see Dominic pinning me against the wall, and his other hand buried in my crotch, if only they looked closely.

Honestly, I think he might like that idea.

“What are you doing?” I finally manage to whisper, pulling away just ever so slightly.

His eyes are a little unfocused, his pupils dilated. “What would you like for me to do, Jacey?”

He knows. Oh, god, he knows. He knows exactly what I’d like for him to do. I can see it in his eyes. I can feel it in his hands as he releases my wrists and slides both of his hands down, over every curve and plane of my body.

He takes his time, sliding his palms down, down, down… everywhere at once, slow and leisurely. He palms my curves, savoring them. He’s firm, slow, and purposeful… someone who knows what he’s doing and what he wants.

I twitch when he passes over my nipples. They’re hypersensitive in my cold, wet shirt. He barely brushes them before he trails further down, down my sides, over the swell of my hips. I want to buck against him when his hands cup my breasts as he pulls me toward him.

I don’t need to, though. He slips his fingers under my shorts because he knows I’m not wearing underwear. He slips those long fingers in, all the way in, into me.

Into where I’m waiting for him.

I moan long and low. He’s feeding the fire he slowly built inside of me and I don’t ever want him to stop.

I glance up and everything around is a blur. We swoop past the ride operator on the ground, past the crowds, past the food smells and the sunshine, past the sidewalks and the shops. All of it is a blur and none of it matters.

The only thing that matters is what shouldn’t.

Him.

He shoves up my shirt and pulls one cup of my bra down, licking at my nipple, teasing it until it’s standing up at full attention, as erect as his dick is. I can feel him, hard and rigid, pushing into my leg. But he doesn’t rub against me. He doesn’t act feverish, like me; he acts calm and controlled, slow and easy. He’s not asking for anything in return, he just plays with me with his mouth.

His tongue is wet against my skin, against my nipple, against me. It’s hot and moist, and just when I’m ready to beg him to fuck me in this very public place—suspended 150 feet in the air—he stops.

Just like that.

“We should go,” he says quietly, his arms collapsing casually back into his lap. Like we’re just sitting here, taking a normal ride on the Ferris wheel.

I yank my head up and realize that we’re coming to a stop on the ground. The ride is over. I pull my shirt down and stare at him, trying to focus my blurry eyes.

Seriously?

He’s unaffected as he climbs from the gondola and holds his hand out to me, waiting for me to let him help me from the car. I pointedly ignore his hand, choosing to dismount all on my own with my rubbery legs that feel like jelly.

Oh my god, I’ve never felt so humiliated, because I’m so affected and he’s so… not. It’s so easy for him to turn it on and off, to stay so fucking detached. My cheeks burn as I follow him down the sidewalks of the pier, as I focus on his broad shoulders swaying through the crowd, at the back of his neck, at his hips.