Almost Paradise (Sinners in Paradise #2/Sinners on Tour #7.2) Page 5

  She thrashed beneath him, crying out her pleasure, her pain, her joy and frustration. He felt her orgasm as she let go. It grasped his cock with such intensity that he had no choice but to join her. Blissful spasms started deep in his balls and radiated inward, then outward. He felt his release in his ass, his belly, his chest, up his throat. Hell, even his fingers were tingling.

  “Reb,” he called to her as his heart struggled to beat, his breath strangled in his throat, and stars danced behind his closed eyelids.

  After the final spasms of release abated, he drew in a deep breath and collapsed on top of Rebekah, nuzzling her neck as their hearts thudded wildly against each other’s chest.

  “Wow,” she gasped on an exhale. Her arms fell limp at her sides as she collected her breath. “That was amazing.”

  “Mmmhmm,” he murmured in agreement, doubting he could make his tongue work properly.

  “I enjoyed that spanking you gave me.”

  “Mmm.” He was up for whatever rocked her world. Or their van.

  Rebekah stiffened beneath him. “Eric, the van is moving.”

  “Yeah, it was,” he said with a winded chuckle.

  “No! I mean it’s moving now.”

  Startled, Eric lifted his head and caught sight of several tree-shaped silhouettes moving past the swaying curtains.

  “What the—” His words were cut off by a loud thud and the jarring impact of the minibus bashing into something.

  “Did you set the parking brake?” Rebekah asked as she struggled to climb out from beneath him.

  “Me? You were the one loading the van.”

  “But you drove it last.”

  Actually, he was the only one who’d driven it. For whatever reason, the stubborn vehicle wouldn’t run when Rebekah was behind the wheel.

  “No,” he admitted, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his face into the mattress. She’d be crushed if they couldn’t take the Volkswagen on their trip. “I didn’t set the parking brake. Sorry. The driveway is flat, so I didn’t bother.”

  “I guess all that rocking started us moving across the yard.” She grinned at him. “Our experiment was an utter failure.” She didn’t sound too upset about it.

  She peeked out the back window from between the curtains. “We hit a tree.”

  Eric groaned. “What’s the damage?”

  She popped open the rear window hatch, which lifted only partially as the tree trunk was exceptionally close, and peered down the back of the minibus. “Not even a dent in the bumper,” she said. “The tree’s bark is a little scuffed.”

  “Poor tree.”

  Rebekah closed the hatch and turned to look at him. “I wonder if setting the parking brake will reduce the rocking motion.”

  “Probably, but there’s only one way to know for sure.” He grinned at her.

  “We can just bump and grind this time,” she said. “There’s no way you’ll be able to get hard again after trying to power wash my organs with that load you just blew.”

  Eric chuckled. His crudeness was starting to wear off on her. And he liked it.

  Still naked, he climbed up into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove the little bus back up to the driveway. He made sure the parking brake was engaged before joining his wife in the back. Their experimental bumping and grinding soon became heated, and it turned out that Rebekah was wrong. He could get hard again.

  Chapter Six

  Rebekah examined herself in the mirror and swished her hips back and forth, making the shiny strings that decorated her flapper dress from chest to knee dance in the sunshine streaming through the bedroom window. She tugged on her cloche hat and pulled several locks of hair from beneath the edge to frame her face. I make an excellent Bonnie, she decided. The only thing that marred her period costume was the sheet of plastic wrap still covering her arm. She hoped she could take it off soon. The ugly plastic made it difficult to admire the first stages of her new tattoo.

  She turned from the mirror to check her husband’s progress and her jaw dropped. She got caught up staring at his ass in his black dress pants for several moments before he turned to face her.

  Rebekah’s eyes lifted to meet his gaze, and her toes curled in her low-heeled shoes. His brilliant blue eyes were almost lost in the shadow of the brim of his fedora. A crisp white shirt accentuated the cut of his shoulders and his long trim torso. He was looking all sorts of sexy until he yanked out his suspenders and released them with a loud snap, which caused him to double over in pain.

  “Fuck!”

  She laughed. “Oh, Clyde, you are such a clown.”

  “Was Clyde a clown? I thought he was pretty serious what with the bank robbing and murdering crime spree.”

  “We’re not focusing on that part of their legend,” Rebekah said. “We’re focusing on his devotion to Bonnie. How he’d do anything for her.”

  “Even go to Bangor in December?” Eric asked.

  “Of course. There are plenty of banks to rob up north.” She winked at him.

  “Are you ready to start our journey then?”

  Rebekah nodded and held out a hand. He took it and drew it to his lips. “You’re looking exceptionally beautiful, Ms. Clyde.”

  “You’re looking quite dapper yourself, Mr. Bonnie.”

  They raced down the stairs, pausing only to lock the front door, before he scooped her into his arms and carried her out to the minibus. She’d already stowed everything she thought they’d need for their trip, but was still running a checklist through her head.

  “Smile,” Eric demanded, twirling her around on the walk at the bottom of the porch steps.

  She laughed, clinging to his neck as the world spun around her, his smiling face the only clear object she could make out.

  “That’s better. No worrying about anything while we’re on our honeymoon.”

  “Deal,” she said, stretching her neck so she could kiss him.

  He deposited her in the passenger seat and tapped her on the nose. “I can’t wait to see where you take us.”

  She opened the glove box and pulled out her phone to start the navigation for the first leg of their journey. Eric had no idea what their route would be or where she’d planned for them to stop on their journey to the Northeast. She just hoped he enjoyed himself on their honeymoon. Correction, that they enjoyed themselves. As he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine in his Clyde get-up, she knew they’d have fun no matter where they went or what they saw. The stops didn’t matter. Neither did the attire she’d packed to add a level of adventure to their travels. The final destination wasn’t all that important. Her husband, her partner in crime and in the mundane, her Eric, was the vital ingredient to her perfect honeymoon. Her perfect life.

  “Where to, beautiful?” he asked.

  “Catch the 10 east,” she said.

  He shifted into gear and they headed out.

  “So our first stop is Las Vegas,” he said as he turned onto the road at the end of the driveway.

  Her head snapped up. “Did you snoop at my itinerary?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I just know the way to Vegas. Very well, I might add. And where else would we go taking 10 east?”

  She sucked her pout into her mouth. He was right. “Well, hopefully you don’t figure out all the stops before we reach them.”

  “It won’t matter. This is still fun. And after you’ve seen the frosty north, we get to go to paradise, which will be fun and warm.”

  She turned her head to hide a disappointed frown. He was still focusing on the destination instead of their journey. She’d just have to show him that paradise didn’t always mean white sand beaches and perfect, sunny weather.

  As they merged onto the interstate, several cars passed them, honking and waving. Eric waved back vigorously, grinning ear to ear.

  “Do you know them?” Rebekah asked, watching yet another car zoom past blaring its horn.

  “Nope.”

  “Why are they honk
ing?”

  Eric’s grin widened. “No reason.”

  “Errr-ric.”

  He shrugged and waved at another passing car. “I might have painted something on the back of the minibus.”

  Rebekah’s jaw dropped. “Oh shit. What did you do?”

  “All in good fun,” he assured her.

  She knew Eric’s idea of fun was almost always X-rated.

  Eventually the road narrowed to two lanes in either direction and not so many new drivers saw whatever he’d painted on the back. Rebekah relaxed into her seat, which she’d fitted with a comfy new red seat cover.

  “Is it naughty?” she asked, still wondering what he’d painted on their vehicle.

  “A little.”

  “Do I need to worry about getting arrested for indecency?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  When they stopped for gas just before they reached the Mohave Desert, Rebekah jumped out of the car and circled around the back to see what Eric had declared a little naughty.

  Just Married. And in smaller letters beneath that, HONK if I should get some.

  The car at the pump behind theirs honked, and Rebekah jumped at the unexpected sound. Eric took his hand off the nozzle to wave while Rebekah slinked over to him, a blush staining her cheeks.

  “We’re going to draw attention everywhere we go,” she said.

  “Yep.” He patted her butt with his free hand. “I want everyone to know you were crazy enough to marry me.”

  “You want everyone to know you’re getting some,” she said, lifting an eyebrow at him.

  “That too.”

  She shook her head, not really upset. She loved that he was proud to have her as his wife and lover. Even if he did embarrass her with his enthusiasm at times.

  “I’m going in to use the restroom. Do you want anything? A snack? A drink?”

  “Why, Bonnie, I thought we were supposed to rob these places as a team.” Eric snapped his Clyde suspenders and then doubled over in pain. “Fuck!”

  “I’m not sure I can trust a partner in crime who can’t operate his suspenders without causing himself bodily harm. I’ll just surprise you with something from the store.”

  “Such as a Mountain Dew and some beef jerky?”

  “How did you know?” She opened her eyes wide. “Frightening how he reads my mind,” she murmured under her breath as she turned away.

  Inside the convenience store, the clerk eyed Rebekah suspiciously the second she came out of the less than spotless restroom. She wasn’t sure if her outfit or her wrapped sleeve tattoo or the purple chunks of hair mixed with platinum had drawn his attention, but his attitude annoyed her. It annoyed her when people gawked at Eric too, though he seemed to enjoy the extra attention. She set her items on the counter and smiled.

  “Are you going to a costume party or something?” asked the man who reminded Rebekah of one of the actors on Grumpy Old Men.

  So it was her costume that perplexed him. “Or something,” she said.

  “What you s’posed to be?” he asked, drawing the bar codes of each item in front of a scanner.

  “Bonnie,” she said. “And my husband is dressed as Clyde.” She nodded toward the clearly visible Volkswagen and her dapper husband outside the huge window.

  “Strange time of year for shenanigans,” the man said as he poked buttons and she used the credit card reader. “It ain’t even New Year’s Eve.”

  “We shenanigan all year long,” she assured him.

  “I s’pose you’re headed for Vegas. Or just coming back. One or the other.”

  “We’re on our way to Maine, actually,” Rebekah said, not that it was any of his business. He didn’t need to know that they were stopping in Vegas for a night chock full of shenanigans.

  “What’s in Maine?” he asked as she signed her name on the card reader’s touch screen.

  Rebekah glanced out the window at Eric, who had apparently found a fan to talk to. She didn’t know if the Slayer-T-shirt-bedecked man knew he was chatting with the drummer of Sinners or if they’d bonded because Eric’s tattoos and rock star hair were apparent even in his Clyde outfit, but the pair were talking quite animatedly and laughing together. When the kindred spirits started playing air drums with each other, she figured the other guy must know exactly who Eric was.

  “His past,” she said to the clerk. And she wasn’t sure if she should be bringing that past back into Eric’s life or not. He was happy with his present; did he really need the family he’d expected to be out of his life for good? Would they want to forge a relationship with him now that he was an adult? The meeting would probably be awkward, but her family meant the world to her. She couldn’t imagine how anyone wouldn’t want to claim Eric as their blood. He was amazing and funny and sweet and talented and…

  The clerk cleared his throat, drawing her out of her haze of appreciation. Her cheeks went hot, and she scooped her sack of purchases into her arms.

  “Thanks for your business,” the clerk said.

  She nodded and pushed the door open with her back. Eric wrapped an arm around her as soon as she came within reach.

  “This is my wife, Reb,” Eric introduced her to Slayer fan.

  “Mrs. Eric mother-fucking Sticks!” the guy shouted. “Congrats on marrying the craziest mother-fucking drummer on the mother-fucking planet.”

  “Nice to mother-fucking meet you,” Rebekah said.

  “Ha!” the guy said.

  He slapped her on the arm. She was glad he’d swung at her right one and not the sore left one.

  “I like her.”

  “She’s all right, I guess,” Eric said and shrugged.

  Rebekah poked him in the ribs.

  “Well we have to hit the road,” Eric said. “Need to get to the hotel so we can have lots of sex.”

  “Oh ho!” Slayer fan said. “Mother-fucking get some, Sticks. Honk! Honk!” He made a motion with one arm as if he were pulling a string overhead.

  “He might get lucky tonight,” Rebekah said. “I’m not too pleased with him at the moment. Did you see what he spray-painted on the back of my new minibus?”

  “You knew what you were getting when you married me,” Eric said, his hand squeezing her waist.

  “Graffiti and licorice-flavored scrambled eggs?”

  He shrugged, completely unapologetic for his crimes. “Among other things.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it up to me.” She kissed his cheek before squirming out of his arms and circling the van to the passenger side.

  “I’m sure you’ll mother-fucking get some tonight,” Slayer fan said. “It’s your mother-fucking honeymoon!”

  The pair of new buddies exchanged arm slaps and several mother-fucking words of parting before Eric climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Why do the weird ones always flock to me?” Eric asked as he waved at the guy still watching them.

  “You’re their king,” Rebekah said with a laugh.

  “Guess that makes you their queen.”

  “And proud of it.”

  He turned onto the highway heading east once again before reaching over to take her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Are you really mad at what I painted on the van?”

  “I’m not happy about it,” she said with a scowl. “You could have hung a sign or something instead of using spray paint.”

  “I just figured if this thing makes it all the way to Bangor, we’ll have it repainted anyway. The flowers are a little… uh…”

  “Hippie?”

  “I was going to say fucking lame, but yeah, okay, we’ll go with hippie.”

  “That’s half of her charm,” Rebekah said. The minibus backfired, as if agreeing.

  “I was thinking she’d look good in black cherry with white racing stripes.” Eric pointed at the nonexistent hood.

  The engine sputtered, and the vehicle started to slow. “Why are you slowing down?” Rebekah asked.

&nb
sp; “I’m not. I think something’s wrong with the engine, and shit, there’s no good place to pull over.”

  Something wrong? Already? They weren’t even out of California yet. “I think you offended her by threatening to paint her to look like a race car,” Rebekah said.

  “Fine, then,” Eric said. “We’ll keep the flowers.”

  The engine backfired again, and then they began to pick up speed. Eric scowled at the dashboard gauges. “She seems fine now.”

  “If you lose power again, pull over and I’ll take a look.”

  But the van did fine the rest of the way to Vegas. Rebekah and Eric ate junk food and sang all the songs on the Bee Gees eight-track tape they’d found in the glove compartment, and they honked back at everyone who responded to the message on the back of their minibus.

  “Where are we staying?” Eric asked when they turned onto the Vegas Strip.

  “Guess.”

  He scratched his jaw. “Twenty questions.”

  “Twenty? I think you can guess in five.”

  “Did Sed and Jessica have a sex tape recorded of them there?”

  She laughed. “Nope.” But she did want to visit the replica Eiffel Tower at the Paris.

  “Did Brian and Myrna spend their wedding night there?” Eric asked.

  “I don’t know. Where did they stay?”

  “The Venetian.”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you pack my pharaoh costume or my pirate one?”

  “Both.”

  “Excalibur!”

  “Wait, how did you guess?”

  “No, I meant there’s Excalibur,” he said as they approached the castle-shaped casino.

  “So you should probably turn now.”

  “We’re really staying at the Excalibur?”

  “You don’t want to stay here?”

  “It’s kind of juvenile for a honeymoon destination, don’t you think?”

  She pressed her lips together and twisted them to one side.

  “You’re right, you’re right,” he said, getting into the turn lane for valet parking. “It’s perfect for us.”

  “I wanted to have fun. I’m not here for luxury.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “That luxury stuff is highly overrated.”

  “I know, right? But this place is a castle. I’ve always wanted to be a princess in a castle.”