BILL’S TEETH FLASHED white against his bronze skin. “Cool!” He grabbed Ellie into a hug, laughing. “We’ll boogie down until the midnight hour, baby!”
His exuberance was infectious. Ellie laughed with him, any lingering reservations dissolving into the warm evening air. “Boogie down and up and every which other way!”
A sunburned guy in a loud Hawaiian shirt, white sunblock on his nose, stopped, his mouth agape. “Wow, dudes, what contest is that?”
Ellie and Bill turned and looked at him.
“Man, I’d like to sign up for that midnight boogie game.” He took a sip from a bright red straw stuck into a coconut. “Where’s it at?”
“Keep heading in the direction you’re going.” Ellie pointed in case he wasn’t sure. “When you pass the volleyball games, take a left.”
“Cool!” He teetered, caught his balance. “What’s the contest name?”
Ellie and Bill looked at each other.
Bill turned back to the guy. “Twelve strokes to midnight.”
Ellie, taking a sip of her lemonade, nearly choked.
“Righteous.” The guy flashed them a hang ten before disappearing into the crowd.
Ellie gave Bill a look. “Twelve strokes to midnight?”
He grinned, obviously enjoying his impromptu quip. “It would have made a perfect contest name for this festival.” He suddenly grew serious. “Hey, sorry about that funky mood I was in earlier.”
“Like I don’t have my funky moments, too.”
“Yeah, you do,” he teased. “I blame mine on my fiery, passionate Cuban half, what’s your excuse?”
She laughed, pressed her cool lemonade container against his bare chest. He barely flinched, macho guy that he was.
“I don’t have one unless I can blame it on my Irish half. The other half is very repressed, Midwestern.”
“Yeah, I’d barely ever hear a peep from your house.”
“How could you? The Romeros were the loudest family on the block!”
People were disembarking the Ferris wheel, couples looking flushed, their hair windblown. Some were laughing, others walking slowly with their arms wrapped around each other.
A man, dressed in denim shorts and a red-and-white striped tank top, strolled in front of the gate to the ride, calling out to the crowd. “Get your tickets to the Ferris wheel! A lucky few get a special stop at the top! Step right up, get your tickets!”
Bill dug into his pocket, pleased when he found the last few complimentary tickets. He held them up.
“C’mon, Ellie, let’s go misbehave.”
MINUTES LATER, a squat sixty-something man who managed to talk while chewing the butt of a cigar, admonished them not to stand up “till da ride stops” before shutting the metal bar over their laps with a heavy clang. The ride lurched, their benchlike seat jerked up several feet, then it stopped abruptly to load the next passengers.
“Don’t stand up till da ride stops.”
Clang.
Their seat lurched upward another few feet, stopped, swinging slightly.
Ellie, her fingers gripped around the cold metal bar, stared straight ahead, feeling slightly giddy. The ride lurched up again. Her stomach clenched.
“Nervous?” asked Bill, putting his arm around her.
“A little.”
“Let’s get your mind onto something else, then. Tell me about your coffee shop. What’s the name of it?”
“Dark Gothic Roast.”
“Gothic, huh? Why’d you pick that?”
Lurch. Her stomach rose with the chair until it jerked to another stop. They were high enough that she could see the ocean, a vast dark blue all the way to the horizon.
“Because…” She could tell him a little without giving away her secret. “…I like that era. The somber but emotional art, the great cathedrals, the stained glass.”
“Sounds cool. Where is it?”
He could look it up online, or in the telephone book, so she might as well tell him. Anyway, she doubted he’d ever show up. It was in one of L.A.’s high-rise business areas—lots of tall buildings and people in suits. Anyway, unless her business loan fell through, she’d soon be moving it.
“Century City.”
“So you cater to the eight-to-five types.”
“Yes.” The suits got a kick out of the goth theme. Some even held business meetings there. The bulk of her evening clientele came from the goth bar around the corner.
She held her breath as their bench seat rose, rose….
They stopped at the top.
“This is awesome.” Cool breezes whipped her hair. Hot sun beat on her skin. She felt fantastic—more alive, more exhilarated than she had in a long time…years, actually.
He squeezed her shoulder, hugged her closer. She turned slightly and looked at him. Maybe it was the bright sun, but she felt as though she saw more in his face. A brooding restlessness, a loneliness, she hadn’t noticed before. As though no place were home.
He smiled, the lines crinkling around his eyes, and the restlessness disappeared. “You okay?”
She nodded, still a bit taken aback at the glimpse she’d just seen.
“I can signal the guy to stop the ride when we’re back down.” His gaze dropped to her lips, slowly returned to her face.
“No,” she murmured, “I’m fine.”
She snuggled closer just as the ride started to descend. Wind rushed up to meet them as a thrill shimmied from her stomach all the way to the top of her head. She pressed against Bill and emitted a high, piercing shriek that she couldn’t have held back if she’d tried.
Then, they swept past the ground, the blur of people and noises and smells fading away into the distance as they soared up, up, up to the blue sky and a yellow sun.
She wrapped her arms around Bill’s waist, the feel of his warm skin grounding her in the dizzying rush of wind and light.
When he tightened his hold, she took advantage of it to snuggle closer. Her cheek slid down slightly, resting on his hard, molded pec. She looked into the tattooed dragon’s eye, fierce and blue, the burnished green scales trailing behind. Such a big, bad dragon. She flicked out her tongue and licked it.
Salty. Warm.
Another thrill rushed through her as the ride soared skyward again. Higher, higher. She buried her head against his chest as another high-pitched shriek ripped loose from her lips.
As they crested, she felt more than heard his chuckle rumble up his chest.
“Hold on,” he yelled, tightening his hold on her as they plummeted back to earth.
She didn’t want to look. Didn’t dare look. Instead, she hung on to Bill for dear life, clamping shut her mouth to stop further banshee screams.
Then, suddenly, they jerked to a stop.
As the bench seat swung back and forth for a moment, she kept her face buried against his chest.
“You all right?”
She raised her head. All she saw was Bill’s face, creased with a wide grin.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“No.” He tried not to grin, but his mouth refused. “Sorry, it’s just…have you ever thought about doing voice-over work? Some actors actually specialize in screams.”
“Very funny.” She straightened a little and looked around. They were on the backside of the ride, which was a good thing because it helped center her somewhat to see all the other passengers in front and above them. “Why are we stopped?”
Bill looked down. “Nobody’s getting on.” He turned back to her.
When their eyes met, she was taken with how much lighter his brown eyes were than she remembered. Maybe because their faces were so close, or because of the bright light, but their color reminded her of the rich caramel she sometimes drizzled on coffee drinks.
Like caramel, the look in his eyes was sweet, too. Funny, he had more personalities than she did. The temperamental Cuban. The macho guy. And now, the sweet man with the tender, almost hopeful, look in his eyes.
Then, something odd happened as she realized that it wasn’t that she was seeing something new, but that he’d let her get inside him. Not much, but enough to be vulnerable to her. Enough to trust her. Instinctively she knew he didn’t give that away too often, if at all.
They sat that way for a long moment, their eyes silently probing, deeply, into the other’s.
When another gust blew her hair into her eyes, he swept the strands back. But his hand remained, gently cupping her face.
“Ellie,” he murmured, “you’re so beautiful.”
Beautiful had always seemed a word for other women, not her. Sometimes, in her goth attire and makeup, she fancied herself darkly exotic. But as a beach babe, she felt like a plastic Barbie doll.
But to hear it from Bill’s lips, with that look in his eyes…she felt beautiful.
He lowered his head to kiss her and she eagerly raised her lips to meet his. And when they were so close she could almost taste him…
A cell phone rang.
Bill cursed under his breath. “With the shoot starting tomorrow, I need to be on call for any last-minute problems.” Pulling back from their almost kiss, he rummaged in his shorts’ pocket for the phone as it rang again. He frowned, looked up at Ellie. “That’s not my ringtone. It’s some guy singing about taking a walk on the wild side.”
“Oh! That’s my Lou Reed ringtone.” She’d been in such a fog with Bill, she hadn’t recognized it. Didn’t mean she wanted to answer it. But then, Candy or Sara might need her. She retrieved the phone from her purse. “Hello?”
“El, it’s Tish. We’ve run out of Count Chocula cereal, I couldn’t find any at the store, which means we’re going to have a lot of pissed-off people in the morning.”
She’d missed her long-dreamed-of kiss over Count Chocula? “You called me about that?”
Big sigh. “No, there’s more. The moving guys dropped by, said they need a deposit to move Dark Gothic Roast to its new location. I told them it’s not a done deal, but they said they need a deposit, which is refundable, to hold that time slot.”
“Okay, fine, write a check.”
“Where are they again?”
Tish, short for Morticia, was great with people, organized, but her memory was riddled with more holes than a body-piercing parlor.
“Office desk, third drawer down on the right.”
“So, when’s our big move again?”
“We’ll probably be relocating in a month, tops. Just waiting for the loan approval.”
“Groovy. How’s it going?”
“Can’t talk. I’m on a Ferris wheel.”
“You? On a Ferris wheel?”
“Yeah, me. Bye.” She hung up, not wanting to waste a single moment more of Bill, who was staring up at something.
“Figured out why we’re stopped.” He pointed upward. “It’s one of the lucky couples who get extra time at the top.”
Ellie looked. Over the edge of the seat at the very top, a bikini top dangled from someone’s hand.
“What happens on the Ferris wheel,” murmured Ellie, “stays on the Ferris wheel?”
Bill chuckled. “Not if she lets go of that top. Hey, what was that about relocating?”
“If my business loan goes through, I’ll be moving the coffee business. I was waiting to hear before sharing the news with anyone. Even my brother doesn’t know yet.”
“To where?”
If she told him the complete truth, he’d lose it. So she fudged. “Inland.”
The ride started up again. This time when Bill wrapped his arm around her, she cuddled next to him but didn’t hide her eyes. Instead, every time they crested over the top of the ride, she drank in the awe-inspiring view of the coast and beach and endless ocean.
The fourth time around, as they started to crest, the ride slowed…and stopped.
She gasped, turned to Bill.
“Let’s see if what happens in the Ferris wheel stays there,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.
Up high, the blazing sun warmed her skin, but that paled compared to the heat exploding within her.
Bill smiled down at her and she responded, as best her trembling lips could. Foggily, she realized she was gripping his shoulders, as though if she didn’t hold on for dear life she might float away.
He turned his head slightly, lowered it, angled his mouth to hers. She raised her mouth to his in silent compliance, moaning slightly at the pressure of his warm, firm lips. Tasting him, she leaned right into him, her body quivering with anticipation.
He didn’t stop at a quick, chaste kiss, but eased her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. His tongue was smooth and nimble, flicking the corners of her mouth, sliding across her teeth, seeking and searching, an explorer claiming the new land.
Her tongue joined in, sinuously curling around, over, under his. The dance slow, inviting, gentle, its pleasurable sensations rippling through her until they pooled hot between her legs.
No big surprise. Bill Romero knew how to kiss.
Pulling back, he threaded his hand through her hair. “Like spun gold,” he murmured.
For a moment she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Oh, right. The beach babe hair.
He lifted several strands and kissed them. “I feel like a miser with his fortune.”
“Yeah, well, not everything that shines like gold is gold.”
He blinked, let her hair slide from his fingers. “Ellie, you going heavy on me?”
She smiled. “That was my half-Irish side. It spouts heavy thoughts sometimes.”
With an amused look, he cupped the side of her face, lifting her head slightly so she was looking directly at him, then let his hungry gaze travel slowly over her breasts, down her torso, settling in that region between her legs. Being up here alone, away from prying eyes, she felt aroused and bold. What happens in Malibu stays in Malibu.
She spread her legs slightly, a quiet dare. Your move.
He made a guttural sound that resonated down to her very nerve endings.
“Nice,” he murmured. He lightly touched the fishnet stretched over where he was staring. “I have an idea.”
Just imagining what he might be thinking made her go wet. “Yes?” Hardly a question. She was so hot, so worked up, she was game for anything.
He reached for her and she tensed in anticipation. “I’ll take this,” he said, slipping her cell phone from her hold.
“You want to call somebody at a time like this?”
He chuckled under his breath. “No, I want to take some photos for that Hot Shot game. My phone doesn’t have a built-in camera, but I noticed yours does.”
She wasn’t sure whether to feel turned-on or pissed off. What happened to that great, warmer-up kiss? That boogie-till-midnight oath?
He peered at the phone. “I’d rather get down and dirty, but it could get dangerous trying to pull our clothes back on while plummeting back to earth.”
Much better. She pointed at the phone. “Press the button that says Camera, then point and shoot. Here, let me get a shot of your dragon.” She took it, showed the image to Bill in the miniscreen, then handed it to him. “Your turn.”
“Hmm…can you turn away just a little? Enough to get a shot of your Queen of Evil tattoo?”
She shifted, her breath catching at the expanse of sky and sea, a little afraid, a lot excited to be testing herself in more than one way. “How’s that?”
“Perfect…I’ll just slip your bikini bottom down a little…oh, yeah…”
She shivered as his warm fingers brushed against her tushy.
“Okay, turn back.”
As she did, he rose slightly in his chair. She grabbed his leg. “Bill, you can’t stand—”
“Till da ride stops, I know. I’m not standing, just hovering a little higher than usual.”
“No wonder you got kicked off the ride,” she whispered, not wanting to look down, see how far he could fall.
And yet, when she looked back at him…she was impressed. Not only with his gutsiness, but his obvious calling as a director. He had a way with the camera, moving just so until he framed the shot, a man with a vision that would not be denied.
Holding on to the back of their seat, he leaned back against the bar. “Bend over a little…let me see that spiderweb tattoo through the fishnet.”
She quickly did as told before her last sight of Bill Romero was him pitching into the sky.
He clicked as he talked. “Great…Lift your fishnet…fantastic…now, show me that wicked little spiderweb tattoo…good…can you take a deep breath?”
She leaned back slightly and inhaled deeply, causing the edge of the spiderweb to swell slightly over her red bikini top.
“Nice,” he murmured. “A little more?”
She pulled the edge of her top down, just a little, exposing more of the tattoo.
“More,” he said.
It was exciting being up here in their private little world, playing this sexy game. This was a new Ellie, not the one who put others first, but a woman putting herself first as she indulged her fantasies.
No judgments, no repercussions. Just free to enjoy and experiment and…
Be bold.
She pulled down the bikini top, showing more of the tattoo, more of her breast.
“That’s good,” murmured Bill, taking another photo.
She pulled it down farther.
Her nipple, hard and aroused, popped out. The impact of cool air tingled against her skin, the sensation hardening her nub.
Bill all but crashed back into his seat, his mouth open. “Oh, yes, baby,” he murmured, tracing his blunt nail around the pebbled areola, his sensual touch shooting heat straight to her groin. Holding down her top, she sucked in a shaky breath watching his dark hand against her exposed white flesh, watching his circling path tighten, draw closer to the nipple.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she shuddered.
He lightly flicked his finger over the nipple. She gasped with pleasure.
Suddenly, metal clanked. As the ride shuddered, began to move, she started to pull her top back up.
“Not so fast,” growled Bill. He leaned down and took a gentle bite of the fullness, then trailed a sensuous path to the nipple, which he flicked, once, twice.
Wind rushed past, sounds from below sharpened.
“Bill,” she murmured.
“Not yet…”
His big dark hand squeezed her breast, guided its pebbled nub into his wet, warm mouth. It felt forbidden to be doing this so exposed, in danger of being caught, which only excited her more as she watched him lap and suckle.
The sounds of the festival grew louder.
“Bill,” she gasped.
He raised his head and smiled at her, a look of sleepy arousal in his eyes, before quickly pulling the bikini cup back over her breast and smoothing the fishnet covering back over her.
When the car stopped, they sat primly side by side holding hands, like two innocent schoolkids at the end of a field trip. They nodded politely to the guy, still chomping on the cigar butt, smiled to the ticket taker.
Once they were out of earshot, Bill tugged her closer.
“The Ferris wheel is not only my favorite ride,” he murmured, nuzzling his chin on her head, “it’s now my favorite fantasy, too.”