Page 92 of Hidden

“Behave,” he whispered in her ear as they approached the ticket counter.

Much to his irritation, Carrie insisted on paying for both tickets, but he had agreed to let her plan this outing, so he stayed silent when she laid her credit card down.

As they entered the park, a staff photographer stopped them. “Smile,” he said, holding the camera to his eye. Peter was going to keep walking, but Carrie stopped him and snuggled close with a grin already on her face. Rolling his eyes, he dropped an arm across her shoulders and smiled.

When the photographer moved on, Carrie made a beeline for a frozen lemonade stand, ordering him to wait for her. As he waited, he paced, his eyes examining each of the entrance gates. The lax manner in which the security staff searched bags and patted people down had him scowling. They could miss so much. In his opinion, it wasn’t safe here. But then Carrie came back with two very large lemonades and the most adorable grin on her face, so he set aside his security brain and accepted the cold drink.

“What do you want to ride first?” she asked between sips.

“You’re in charge of this adventure, baby.”

“Somehow I doubt that, but thanks for pretending.”

Peter chuckled. At least she knew he was only letting her think she was in charge. After the party on Friday night, they had gone home and fallen into bed, where they definitely didn’t sleep. Saturday was spent much exploring the limits of her body and he made good on his promise to fuck her in every room in the apartment, though he still had a number of surfaces he wanted to have her on. She’d remained submissive and ready to please until this morning that is. At which point she’d held up her phone with a grin as she’d pointed at the calendar and said, “Now your ass is mine.”

“Let’s hit Devil Mountain after we drop our stuff in a locker,” Carrie said when she looked up from the park map she’d been perusing.

“Devil Mountain?”

Her head bobbed up and down over her cup and he sighed. “I’m just not going to ask anymore questions. Lead the way, Miss Davenport.”

Before reaching the roller coaster, they stopped and rented a locker for the day where she insisted they both leave their phones.

Devil Mountain, as it turned out, was a wooden roller coaster. And for a moment, Peter regretted making this deal with Carrie. Conjuring up images of her kneeling at his feet got him through the first steep climb. It was fleeting though because at the summit, she jerked his arm upward and yelled for him to get ready. It’s not that he had never been on a roller coaster before, it had just been a very long time. So, when they flew down the first hill, he was fairly certain that his stomach, along with his manliness stayed at the top as he heard himself screaming at the top of his lungs. Beside him, Carrie was giggling. At him. The urge to take her across his knee overwhelmed him and as they climbed the next mountain, he fisted his hand into her hair and kissed her. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he growled, which only elicited more laughter.

The rest of the morning went much the same way, with Carrie dragging him from one ride to another and Peter fighting to keep his breakfast down. When she tried to put him on a spinning ride, he put his foot down and refused, at which point they took a break for lunch.

Because this was Carrie’s adventure, the meal consisted of mostly fried food, but he ordered a salad for himself. “I don’t see how you haven’t had a heart attack,” he grumbled as he looked at the greasy baskets in front of him. “I’ve eaten more fried food since I met you than I have in my entire life.”

“It’s good for you,” she said around a mouthful of chicken strip.

“I think we have very different definitions of what’s good for you.”

Carrie giggled as she had been doing often today and dunked a fry into some Ketchup.

“Would it kill you to eat a vegetable?”

Her nose crinkled in disgust. “I don’t like vegetables.”

He stabbed a cucumber from his salad and offered the fork to her. “I seem to remember you liking cucumbers,” he teased. “Do you not like them, or have you just not had the right ones?”

When she continued to look at him with revulsion, he laughed and popped the cucumber in his mouth. “I’m cooking for you this week. I think you’ll find vegetables and non-fried food can be delicious. Even better than whatever the hell this is.” He waved his hand across the array of breaded fare. Though he could see the skepticism on her face, he also noticed that she didn’t say no to the idea of him cooking for her.

“I know you said unplugged for the day, baby, but can we please stop at the locker so I can check my phone?”

With a dramatic sigh, she said, “I guess that will be OK, but you owe me a spinning ride.”

He captured her at the waist and pulled her to him. “Nice try. I said no spinning rides. Unless you want me to spank you in the family bathroom that is.”

Watching her blush was among his favorite activities lately and she didn’t disappoint him now even though she recovered quickly. “As tempting as you spanking me is, I’m going to pass on doing it in a dirty public bathroom.”

He kissed her nose. “I enjoy negotiating with you.”

When they reached their locker, he pulled the key out of his pocket and opened the tiny door. Withdrawing their phones—four between the two of them—he handed Carrie hers before looking at both of his.

Beside him, Carrie swore, but he didn’t have time to worry about whatever was on her screen as he felt the color drain from his face. Thirteen missed calls.

“Excuse me,” he said tersely.

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