Page 90 of Beautiful Crazy
“Because he practically helped his son do it,” Grace mutters. “I went over there after school one day, and Conway wouldn’t even let me come in the house. Told me pretty much to get lost. Then I find out later that night on social media that my boyfriend at the time was tagged in a picture with some random girl in his room.”
“So… you’ve hated Conway ever since?”
“Yes.”
“Grace can kind of be a grudge holder when she gets her feelings hurt,” Georgia offers. “She lost her virginity to this guy, so it was a blow to the ego for a teenage girl.”
“Ah, I see.”
Gemma chuckles when she must see the confusion written all over my face, but it’s the end of the conversation since Conway and the girls come walking back over right after. The cook-off begins, and Gemma was right—it’s not nearly as riveting as I was imagining it. It was interesting, though, at least a little bit.
Once that’s done, the group of us wander around the fairgrounds, Conway included, since Blakely and Willow are now attached at the hip. He and I, plus Graham, all take the kids on rides while the women watch from the sidelines. It reminds me of the first and last time I was here, also with Gemma. How it wasn’t all that long ago, yet so much has changed since then.
A couple of hours pass, and the sun has long since set. The carnival lights brighten the whole place as we make our way to where the food trucks are. After the kids get some hot dogs and we find a spot big enough for the rest of us, Gemma pulls me by the arm and tells everybody, “We’ll beright back. I want a funnel cake, and the truck’s down there.”
Georgia mock solutes her sister, a grin on her face, while everybody else waves us off.
Taking my hand in hers, Gemma leads us away from her family. “I think that truck has them,” I tell her.
“Yeah, but the one down here is better,” she says, peering up at me with a glint in her big, dark eyes.
She walks us by the long row of food trucks, and instead of stopping at one, we keep going. Confusion furrows my brow until she leads us to the left, right under a huge thing of bleachers. Nobody is around when I scan the area, and suddenly, I’m more than aware of why she brought me here. Heat rushes through my veins as my cock twitches.
“And what are we doing under here, mama?” I ask, my voice thick with the arousal simmering inside of me.
Turning to face me, I can tell, even in the dark, that her cheeks are flushed and she’s got mischief dancing in her gaze. “You know, I don’t think I told you this earlier, but the way you’re wearing that baseball hat backward isreallydoing it for me, Mr. Windward.”
Arching a brow, I ask, “Is that right?”
Biting down on her bottom lip, she nods, hands coming to the front of my pants. It only takes her a few moments before she has my cock freed, her soft, warm hand pumping it as she holds my gaze. “You look so sexy,” she goes on, voice dripping with desire. “And I couldn’t stand another minute without feeling you sink into my pussy. I’m aching for you.”
Fuck.Hearing her talk dirty will never not drive me absolutely wild.
“You want me to fuck you here, mama?” I ask, bringing my hand to her hip. “Where anybody could find us?”
“Mmhmm.” She nods, biting that fucking lip some more. Tempting me.
“I’m starting to think you like the idea of getting caught just as much as I do. Is that true?”
“It makes me so fucking wet,” she admits breathily. “But not nearly as soaked as the idea of you filling me with your cum.”
A growl rips from my throat. “Turn around, hands against the wall.”
Luckily, we’re far enough under the bleachers and it’s dark out that I think, even if somebody did walk by, unless they were specifically looking in here, they won’t see us. A concrete wall sits behind the bleachers, which works in my favor as Gemma does as I say, and I lift the back of her dress over the swell of her ass. She’s wearing panties this time, and I make quick work of yanking them down and running my fingers through her slit.
“Fuck, mama, you weren’t lying.” I sink a finger into her slick, hot cunt. “You’re fucking dripping for me.”
She hums, throwing me a sultry look over her shoulder as I work another finger in. When I can’t take it anymore, I spit in my palm, coating my length with it before lining myself up. We groan in unison as I ease into her pussy inch by inch, her tight heat surrounding me, making my eyes roll back.
“That’s it, mama. You take me so well. I fucking love this sweet cunt of yours.”
Letting out a long, needy moan, she pushes her ass back, wordlessly begging for me to give it to her harder.
So, I do.
And goddamn, does it feel fucking good.
It’s so easy to lose myself to Gemma. To forget the outside world exists, and just feel the woman wrapped around me, the one writhing, crying out my name as her walls constrict.