Page 64 of Inferno
“Okay, wife,” he drawled, the deep, velvety timbre of his voice making her shiver. “You wanna hit the number three pin so your ball will deflect into the number ten pin. So you need to aim for the seventh arrow to your right.”
Prissy nodded, heat sizzling through her veins as he adjusted her feet on the floor and gently guided her arm through the swinging motion.
“Like that,” he murmured. “See?”
“Mmm.”Some naughty impulse made her lean back, pressing her backside into his groin. His breath quickened and his hand tightened on her hip, pulling her closer. Her clit pulsed and tingled at the feel of his hard, heavy shaft nestled between her butt cheeks.
A wicked smile curved her mouth. “How do I get my ball to hook like yours does?”
“It’s all in the wrist andfollowthrough.” Stan’s voice was rough with arousal as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear, sending delicious shivers through her. “If you don’t hold and release the ball properly, you won’t get enough spin on it.”
“Hmm.”Prissy turned, holding out her nine-pounder to him. “Show me.”
“I can’t, babe. My fingers won’t fit inside your holes.”
They looked at each other,thenburst out laughing like a couple of dirty-minded adolescents.
When their mirth subsided, Stan pointedly cleared his throat before continuing, “Anyway, you only wanna hook the ball on your first throw. To pick up the spare, it’s best to throw a straight ball ’cause if you spin it too much you won’t hit the pins.” He guided Prissy through the swinging motion again,thenstepped back with obvious reluctance. “Now try it.”
She took a deep breath, then moved into position, aimed for the seventh arrow and released the ball. She and Stan watched as it rolled down the lane and knocked over the spare pins.
“YES!” Squealing triumphantly, Prissy jumped up and down, then turned and leaped into Stan’s arms. He laughed, lifting her off the floor as she threw her legs around his waist andsmoochedhim on the lips.
When Stan sank his hands into her hair and deepened the kiss, Prissy purred softly. Their tongues met, doing a sensual tango inside each other’s mouths until they were interrupted by a series of wolf whistles.
They broke apart and glanced around, encountering the amused stares of a group of senior citizens watching them from several lanes away. One of the old men winked at Stan and growled, “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Prissy blushed as Stan laughed. Kissing the tip of her nose, he murmured, “Let’s go home.”
She smiled shyly. “Good idea.”
After returning their rented shoes and paying for their games, they raced back to the truck, hopped inside, and began kissing and necking like a pair of horny teenagers.
As the windows fogged up, Stan grabbed Prissy and dragged her across the console and onto his lap. The steely ridge of his erection against her belly jolted her back to sanity.
Stan groaned protestingly as she broke their fevered kiss and scuttled back to her seat, giggling breathlessly as she glanced around the near-empty parking lot.
“We’re gonna mess around and get ourselves arrested,” she panted.
Stan grinned wolfishly. “I can’t think of a better reason to go to jail, can you?”
She laughed. “The kids will be let out of school soon, so we’d better get going.”
“Good idea,” Stan agreed, twisting the key in the ignition. “If we hurry back, we’ll have time for a quickie before they get home.”
Again Prissy laughed, shivering with arousal.
As they rode home holding hands and exchanging heated looks, she almost convinced herself that nothing could ever come between them.
