Silk Stalkings by Kelli Scott

between.
    Diego needed to find out if Yancey could be satisfied with
the simpler things in life. Was she ready to settle down? Maybe he was asking
too much too soon. But better to ask the hard questions now rather than three
to six months from now.
    “A picnic,” he replied, rather impulsively. What could be
more wholesome?
    She laughed at his picnic idea. “It’s dark outside.”
    He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Where’s your spirit of
adventure?”
    Still laughing, she said, “I left it at your apartment with
my handbag.”
    She’d left many things at his condo—sexy panties, silky
stockings and her fuck-me stilettos. He pulled into the entrance of the city
park. Good, no other cars. If there had been any, he’d have been obliged
to tow them off to the impound lot. With a city towing contract came great
responsibility.
    He used to be the guy loitering at the park after hours, up
to no good. Necking. Drinking. Mischief. Diego had a history of vandalism and
misdemeanor offenses. Luckily his juvenile record was sealed and couldn’t be
used against him in adulthood. Now he was the guy enforcing the
no-parking-after-dark rule. He had mixed feelings about his new authority.
Necking, drinking and mischief were all part of growing up.
    After bringing the truck to a complete stop, he set the
emergency brake and opened the door. Yancey slid across the bench seat behind
him, carrying the dinner he’d packed.
    “I hope no one sees me dressed like this,” she said,
smoothing her hair with her free hand.
    “You’d still be the hottest chick here.” He was confident
not too many people would be skulking at the park, except possibly a teenager
or two, maybe the homeless, but neither would bother them. The jogging path
appeared deserted. “The hottest chick anywhere,” he added, confident in his
words.
    She scoffed and blushed, nervously brushing away a lock of hair
from her face. Their lovemaking had wreaked havoc on her tresses. Her hair
tumbled in a tangled mess of sexy that tempted him to bury his face in her
untamed curls. There was that word again. She tempted him something fierce.
    Diego took her hand and led her along the dimly lit path to
the first picnic table. He commonly took his meals here while checking the lot
for parking violators, day or night. The spot was peaceful late at night—the
perfect place to clear away the bullshit of the day and start afresh. Yancey
had already cleaned his slate. He felt euphoric around her.
    A cool breeze flurried against his face. “You warm enough?”
    Sitting on the table, she rested her feet on the bench.
“Fine.”
    He unpacked the food. “Not hot but not cold either,” he said
of the food.
    “Just the way I like it,” she said teasingly.
    She tended to say everything teasingly. Naughtily. He liked
it but hoped for a serious conversation some day in their future. About the future. If she wasn’t about settling down, there was no reason to continue
down the same path only to inevitably split. There were no guarantees but he
knew what he wanted. Too soon to tell whether he wanted what he wanted with her .
Or whether she wanted the same thing at all.
    Quietly, they ate the chicken and veggies he’d sautéed and
stuffed inside some rolled flour tortillas.
    “Mmm,” she moaned, eyes closed, reminiscent of the way he’d
made her moan earlier for a different reason.
    His cock, with a mind of its own sometimes, thickened
because of her sexy noises. She affected him like no one else. Moved him with
nothing more than a smile or a glance. And she affected more than just his
cock. She made him smile and laugh.
    In a pocket of comfortable silence, they enjoyed the food
and ambience.
    She turned her face into the breeze that blew her hair from
her forehead. To him Yancey looked every bit as lovely as she had before he’d
mussed her hair and smeared her makeup. He reached out and lightly touched her
face. She must have washed the foundation and blush away, letting her