Silk Stalkings by Kelli Scott Page A

freckles
show. Yancey smiled at his touch but did not open her eyes.
    “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured.
    She smiled wider, opening her eyes to him. “Well, then I
think I much prefer picnicking in the dark than the daylight.”
    “You’re every bit as beautiful in the light of day and you
know it,” he said.
    “Did you know the park was established in 1946 during the
housing boom after World War II?” she asked. Before he could answer, she
continued. “It started out as an empty field where kids congregated and played
baseball. It’s been renovated several times since 1946, most recently in 2008
to incorporate the jogging trail and upgrade the playground equipment.”
    Diego satisfied an irresistible impulse and kissed her. Not
to shut her up, merely to feed his need for her lips.
    When they broke apart, she said, “Was I babbling?”
    “Never.” He tossed the garbage into a nearby can and reached
out to her. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “How
’bout an after-dinner stroll?”
    “How ’bout you lay me down in the grass and defile me?” she
said. “I want grass stains on my knees from sucking your cock.”
    The sprinklers popped up and sprayed a mist of water onto
the carpet of grass. “Another time,” he vowed, cock twitching from nothing more
than a few sexy words from her.
    Instead of rolling around in the grass, they ambled
hand-in-hand along the path. Her fingers reached out and touched the tops of
the foliage along the trail. He chuckled as she shuffled along, trying to keep
his big flip-flops on her tiny feet.
    “You want me to carry you?” he offered.
    “I want to swing.” Yancey kicked off his shoes and scampered
barefoot to the playground up ahead.
    He shook his head, grinning, and collected the flip-flops
she’d left behind. She lazily swung back and forth, head back, eyes closed,
smiling like a carefree child. Diego planted his hand on her back and gave her
a little shove.
    “Higher,” she said.
    He dropped the flip-flops and caught her, grasping the
chains with both hands from behind. “Hang on tight.” He pulled way back and let
her fly.
    She laughed. “We should do iton the swing.”
    “Yancey,” he cautioned her.
    “No?” She giggled. “On the slide?”
    “Kids play on those,” he protested.
    “I suppose you’re right,” she reluctantly conceded. She
slowed the swing to a stop and they continued their stroll, her still in her
bare feet. “What should we do? Call it a night?”
    Not wanting to part from her, Diego racked his brain for an
activity. She’d probably settle for sex in the cab of his truck again—not a bad
idea—but he needed them to be about more than the physical. Maybe he was trying
too hard to create a relationship where one didn’t exist. Why? he
wondered. Because of the great sex. That was the logical answer. He didn’t want
to be so shallow anymore.
    When his truck came into sight, they’d made the full circle
around the jogging trail. The sprinklers shut off for the night. Feeling the
pressure of her question, he replied, “Dancing.”
    Yancey laughed again. “Dancing?”
    He pulled her along to the truck, digging his keys from his
front pocket. He shoved the key into the ignition, turning it a couple of
clicks until the radio turned on. He adjusted the station and volume before
returning to her. She continued to laugh at him until he pulled her into an
embrace that seemed to take her breath away.
    “Dancing,” he repeated, swaying her in his arms. “In the
fucking moonlight. How about that?” The old Diego would never have suggested
such a romantic activity. He’d have found a dry patch of grass somewhere.
    She locked her fingers behind his neck and sighed, hopefully
at his romantic gesture. Not that romance was a language he spoke fluently.
Spanish was, so he nuzzled her neck and whispered, “ Mi cielo ,” in her
ear. My angel. She did seem heaven sent, except when she was tempting
him to sin. My