Almost Paradise (Sinners on Tour 6.7) - Page 7

to prepare the interior of the minibus for her romantic honeymoon with her new husband.

Rocking her hips back and forth to drive Eric’s pussy-magnet of a cock insane with need, she finished replacing the spark plugs, secured the distributor cap, connected the brand new spark plug wires, and crossed her fingers.

“Will you try starting her?” Rebekah asked Eric.

“It isn’t going to start,” he said.

“I’m glad you have such faith in my mechanical skills,” she snapped.

“I have plenty of faith in you,” he said, cupping her breasts as he bent over her to kiss the sensitive pulse point behind her ear. “It’s this hunk of junk I don’t believe in.”

Eric released her and stepped away, circling the vehicle to climb into the ratty driver’s seat.

“He didn’t mean that,” Rebekah whispered to the VW.

“You ready?” he asked.

She took a step back and the starter made a whirring sound as Eric turned the key. With a metallic groan and a loud backfire, the engine kicked over and rumbled with the sound only a vintage Volkswagen could make. Rebekah whooped in triumph and did a victory dance in a gleeful circle behind the vehicle. The tailpipe kicked out a plume of black smoke. Rebekah coughed and waved a hand in front of her face.

Eric gunned the engine a couple of times to keep it from dying and then hopped out to wrap his arms around her.

“I can’t believe you got it started.” He kissed the top of her head several times.

She pressed her hands against his chest and tipped her head back, the feeling of accomplishment swelling in her chest.

“Let’s take her for a spin.”

Eric released Rebekah and patted her on the butt. “I wouldn’t advise driving too far unless you want a long walk back to the house.”

“Oh, pooh.” Rebekah closed the back hatch and dashed around to the driver’s seat. She closed the door and waited for Eric to climb in beside her before pushing in the clutch and shifting into reverse. As soon as she let off the clutch, the engine died.

“I thought you knew how to drive a stick,” Eric said with a mocking laugh.

She rolled her eyes and pushed the clutch back in. Like before, it whirred and whirred and whirred but wouldn’t kick over. “Damn it.” She got out of the bus, trudged around to the back, and opened the engine compartment. She jiggled spark plug wires and stared down at the engine with both hands on her hips. “I don’t see any problems. Eric, try starting her again.”

She could hear him grumbling under his breath as he circled the vehicle and climbed behind the wheel. As soon as he turned the key, the engine fired right up. Rebekah shook her head in disbelief and closed the hatch again. She went around and climbed into the passenger seat.

“You drive,” she said to Eric. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

“Like you, she needs a man with a firm hand and an even firmer cock,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Puh-lease,” Rebekah returned, rolling her eyes skyward.

Eric shifted into reverse and the minibus responded as if it hadn’t been sitting abandoned in a field for a couple of years.

“She runs great,” Eric claimed as he backed around so he could drive head first down the driveway.

Rebekah crossed her fingers and sent a little prayer heavenward as Eric shifted into first gear and eased forward. There wasn’t so much as a sputter of protest out of the—what had Eric said the original owner called her?—temperamental vehicle.

“Wow,” Eric said. “I think she might actually make it out of the driveway.”

“She’s going to make it another hundred thousand miles or so,” Rebekah assured him with a confident smile.

They drove around their neighborhood, which consisted of widely spaced farmsteads down narrow blacktop or gravel roads. When they returned, Rebekah instructed Eric to park near the water spigot on the side of the garage so she could wash the van.

“I’m proud of you,” Eric said as he shut off the engine.

She beamed at him. “I’m proud of you too.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“It takes mad skills to make this woman blissfully happy,” she said, pointing to her chest. “And you, sir, are the master.”

He grinned. “Well, okay. I will take credit for that.”

She slapped at him playfully and climbed out of the minibus, turning on the hose and spraying off years of grim and the new coating of dust they’d added while driving down unpaved roads.

“Can you get me a bucket of soapy water?” she asked Eric.

“Under one condition,” he said, lifting a finger at her.

“What’s that?”

“You take those overalls off while you wash your new car.”

“You expect me to wash it in my T-shirt and panties?”

“Your wet T-shirt and panties.”

She grinned. He really didn’t want to win this bet, did he? “I’ll think about it,” she said. “While you’re getting me a bucket of soapy water.”

He chuckled and entered the house through the garage to do her bidding. While he was gone, she stripped off her bra and hung it from the round side mirror of the bus and continued spraying down the vehicle. She was surprised to find that beneath all the dirt, the paint was still lustrous. Someone had painted the body white but added huge brightly colored daisies in a chain all around the perimeter just beneath the windows. It was freaking adorable. She loved it. She wasn’t sure how the drummer of a metal band would feel about being seen in such a whimsical vehicle, but her girly soul squealed at its cuteness.

The bucket clunked as it dropped on the ground behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband, her heart thudding with anticipation. He loved to watch. And she loved to put on a show for him.

“Thank you. Go have a seat.” She nodded toward a shady spot under a nearby tree.

Careful to keep her left, newly inked arm as dry as possible, she reached into the bucket of soapy water for the big sponge floating among the bubbles. She got more suds on her leg than the vehicle as she scrubbed it clean, so she made sure to spray herself off with chilly water from the garden hose.

Getting her clothes wet gave her the perfect excuse to unfasten the buckles at her shoulders and allow her coverall shorts to drop to the muddy ground. In nothing but her wet white tank top, hot-pink thong, and her lime-green Converse, she rubbed the soapy sponge over the surface of the vehicle, being sure to bend over and stick her ass out so her husband got plenty of enjoyment from her car wash.

She grinned when a pair of warm hands peeled her thong over the curve of her ass.

“I can eat you out without losing the bet,” Eric said as he dropped to his knees behind her and buried his face in her pussy.

The sponge tumbled from her hand as she pressed her palm against the side of the minibus for stability.

“Right?” The word was muffled as his mouth found her center.

“Yes,” she groaned, not as an answer to his question, but because she wanted this, wanted him.

She lost all ability to reason as his fingers dug into her hips to hold her steady and his tongue dipped inside her.

“Eric!” she called out to him as his tongue thrust in and out and then swirled around the rim of her opening. She loved the feel of his mouth on her excited flesh, but she wanted something big and hard inside her. Pounding her deep. “Fuck me,” she gasped.

Tags: Olivia Cunning Sinners on Tour Billionaire Romance
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