When he pulls away, he's smiling so fiercely I think he might bust. Sean laughs, holding me against his chest and swinging me around. I pull my feet up and squee as I spin in a circle with him on the grass.
When Sean puts me down, he tangles his hands in my hair and holds my face between his palms. "I love you, Spray Start Car Girl. Forever."
Then, without a word, he sweeps me off my feet and lifts me in his arms. I drop the lily on the ground and cling to him. "Where are we going?"
"Where else?"
I grin broadly and try not to giggle. I jut my arm into the air, poking the night sky and proclaim, "To the shed!"
CHAPTER 5
Sprawling takes on a new meaning. I remember the field at Belmont Lake from when I was a kid. I thought it was big. Henry's lawn makes the entire park resemble a patch of sod. The mansion sits on acreage that spills around the house and deep into the woods. I can't see the fence line, but I'm confident there is one. Henry likes his privacy—probably because he's batshit crazy. It wouldn't surprise me to find naked women trapped beneath the floorboards of his house. He's a little unhinged, and I still want to beat the snot out of him every time he crosses my mind, so I push the thought away.
The grass is cut in a diamond pattern that my Dad would have envied. He was always trying to get the greenest lawn on the block. One summer he fertilized the yard with his own mix of super grow. He had the best-looking yard on the block—and had to mow it three times a week or the grass would have jumped up and eaten the house. I smile remembering it, missing him.
I glance to the right, thinking I saw a light, but it must have been the moonlight reflecting off something—a camera lens maybe? The estate is so big it's not hard to remain concealed while we move around.
"Sean, why aren't you worried about Henry? Don't you think he'll do something twisted, like try and join us in the shed—something I am NOT okay with." I cling to his neck and feel a nervous jitter work it's way up my arms.
Thinking about having sex with dark Sean is like thinking about playing Frogger on the Long Island Expressway at rush hour. It's exhilarating, and I'm sure to get more than I bargained for, like one of those gator-logs that swallow you whole.
I'm biting my bottom lip without realizing it. Gators are freaky creatures. They pretend they can't move fast until they're ready to devour something. If Sean were an animal, he'd be part gator. The log is icing.
Sean's eyes are boring a hole into my head. I feel awkward and wiggle to get down. He holds me tighter. "I'm not putting you down yet, so be still."
"I could get down if I wanted."
"I'm sure." Sarcasm laces his voice.
I twist in his arms and push away. I should land on my feet, but just as I slip from his grip, he bends at the knees, catches me and tosses me over his shoulder.
"Hey!" I kick my feet and push off his strong back, as I try to yell in his face, but I only get the back of his head. He ignores me, pretending like I weigh nothing. "Put me down!"
Instead of being a gentleman about it, his hand comes up and slaps my ass. I wiggle on his shoulder and try to get down. Sean swats me again. "Stop twerking on my shoulder, or I'll do you on the lawn in the big wide open."
I freeze. "I'm not a prude."
He actually laughs. "Are you still on that?"
"NO!" Yes. I am. Why does he think I wouldn't like some PDA? "I think you're a prude."
He laughs, and it shakes his entire body, jostling me on his shoulders. "Me?" Sean stops walking and nearly releases me. "You're playing me." He sounds shocked. He holds me tighter and picks up his pace.
I bounce, hair flopping in my face, strands going in my mouth with my ass sticking out from under my chemise. "Dude, you almost got played." I giggle. "That was fun. Let's do it again."
His hand comes down on my cheeks, harder this time. I kick and try to shift, but his grip is like iron. The air tickles my skin all around the stinging spot. I have the worst wedgie ever. I might as well go commando.
Sean replies, "Let's not."
"Quit hitting me. I don't like it."
"Yes, you do."
I cross my arms and pout. When I realize he can't tell, I flop there, arms dangling down his back like two pieces of spaghetti. I'm staring at his backside as we bob along. Each step makes him flex his tush, curving it into a super-yummy curve. I reach for his waist and tug on his shirt.
"Undressing me, Miss Smith?" He smiles, looking over his shoulder at me. I've got my neck craned around so I can see the jaunty smirk on his face.
I drop his shirt and feign boredom. "Only in your dreams, Mr. Jones."
I flash a show-stopping grin at him. He laughs. "You're in a mood."
"Likewise, captain." My lips curve into a playful smile. "Where the hell is this shed? You've been walking forever. I would have dropped you by now and fallen down dead."
Sean's face scrunches up as if I insulted his manhood. "You can't lift me."
"I did lift you." I jerk my head in an I-told-you-so move and make a face. "How can you not remember?"
"Right. That." He sounds annoyed. "I believe I'd been shot and was concentrating on other things at the moment. Some minor details are fuzzy."
I reach down and slap my hand against his back. I was aiming for his ass, but it's too far away. "Fuzzy! Do you know how much you scared me? Stop getting shot! Also, you're not a dainty guy!"
"Thank God."
"It was like hauling a monster truck through water."
"Water would make it lighter." His voice is light, teasing. "And you should abstain from hitting me unless you want me to retaliate at an unpredictable time."
I shrug. "
That could be fun." I grab his shirt in my hand, crumple the fabric as I gather it on one swoop, and smack his skin with the open palm of my other hand. There's a loud slapping sound, and he freezes.
Grinning in a wolfish, still-got-wool-stuck-between-his-teeth manner, Sean replies, "It will be—for me. Keep your hands to yourself, Miss Smith. I can guarantee you won't like the payback."
My stomach twists as a shiver rips through me, making my skin prickle. He notices. "It's not for you."
"Of course not."
I manage to crane my neck long enough to leer at a little house standing on the back corner of the property. "That's the shed?" I squeak. "Can I live there?"
Sean shakes his head and mutters, "Peasants."
"That's not a shed. It's a house! There's an upstairs! Sheds don't have two floors." I glance at it again before I flop down his back.
"This one does, and the upstairs is unfinished with bare rafters rather close to the floor. It makes it so much nicer than standing on a bucket the whole time with your hands tied above your head."
A bucket? I can't tell if he's joking.
A few more steps and we're at the door. Sean swings me down into his arms and cradles me against his chest. His eyes meet mine and hold. There's so much adoration there, such tenderness that it shocks me. I know he loves me, but he never shows it—not like that.
"I love you, my Greek goddess."
My breath catches, and I lose myself in his eyes, unable to rip mine away. I whisper his name and pull his lips to mine. The kiss is tender, soft. He pulls away and watches me as we cross the threshold.
He places me down and follows through on his promise.
I shouldn't be surprised, but the rapid transition from sweetness to darkness shakes me to my core.