Funland - By Richard Laymon Page 0,127

from Tanya.

She turned to face him. She wore a dark sweatshirt and sweatpants. She took hold of Jeremy’s hand—the one he had cut with the razor—and pressed it to her lips. With her other hand she pulled the loose front of her sweatshirt away from her body. She guided Jeremy’s hand under the shirt, up her hot bare skin to her breast. Leaving it there, she put her arms around him and leaned toward him and kissed him. Her mouth seemed to engulf him. She moaned as he fondled her breast. It was so incredibly smooth, its nipple big and jutting and springy. He rubbed his hand all over it while her tongue swirled into his mouth. He squeezed it. He fingered the slick scar below the nipple and traced it downward, stopping only when he reached the drawstring of her pants, wanting to follow the scar lower but not daring. He glided his hand up again, felt the whistle tumble beneath it, and swept his hand toward her other breast. Suddenly he didn’t dare touch it. He clutched the whistle.

Tanya’s mouth went away.

“We have to get going,” she whispered. “Later. We’ll have time later. For everything.”

Jeremy nodded. He took his hand out of her sweatshirt.

She kissed him gently, her lips slick against him. Then she took something out of the pouchlike pocket at her belly. “These are for you,” she said.

Jeremy held the flimsy packet up to the windshield.

“Surgical gloves,” Tanya explained. “We don’t want to leave fingerprints.” She took another packet out of her pouch, opened it, and put the gloves on.

“We have to wear them now?” Jeremy asked. He didn’t want his hands covered. He wanted them bare and feeling Tanya.

“The car’s hot,” she said.

“Oh,” he muttered. His stomach seemed to tighten. He could feel his penis start to shrink. “You mean you stole it?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He squinted at the ignition. There was no key in it, but the car was running.

“Jeez,” he said.

She turned to the front, released the emergency brake, tugged down the shift lever, and swung the car away from the curb. “We’ll be leaving it at Funland,” she said. “Don’t worry, the owners will get it back. But we can’t take a car they might trace to me.”

“What’re we going to do?” Jeremy asked.

“Get us a troll,” she said. “I know right where to find the perfect troll for tonight.”

“Really? Where?”

“Nate’s house.”

Robin, braced up with an elbow against the mattress, gazed at Nate. He looked as peaceful as a child. His arms and legs were spread out, just as they’d been when he fell asleep beneath her a while ago. His chest rose and fell slowly with long breaths. Robin rested a hand on his chest. Though his skin looked golden and warm in the wavering candlelight, it was cool to the touch.

She rolled cautiously away from him and left the bed. At the foot of it she picked up the sheet and covers that had been kicked to the floor while they made love. She spread them over him. He didn’t move.

Robin smiled.

The poor guy is wiped out, she thought.

Who isn’t?

She felt weak all over, herself. Her muscles were warm and shaky, as if they’d been turned into pudding. The area around her mouth felt puffy and tingling from the ceaseless kissing. Her cheeks burned slightly from the chafe of his whiskers. So did her shoulders, and the sides of her neck, and her breasts. Her nipples were tender and achy. She felt mushy and a little raw inside.

Maybe we overdid it just a little bit, she thought, and smiled again.

She walked toward the dresser, watching her slow progress in the mirror. The way she held herself and hobbled, she looked as if she expected any quick movement to jostle something loose. When she reached the dresser, she bent over and puffed out each of the candles. Then she made her way to the nightstand on Nate’s side of the bed and blew out that candle. She was tempted to crawl over him, but she didn’t want to disturb his sleep. So she forced her weary, aching body to circle the bed. Before snuffing the last candle, she bent over and carefully eased Nate’s arm down against his side.

At last she blew out the candle and slipped under the covers. She rolled toward Nate in the darkness, squirmed closer until she felt the heat of his skin, and rested her arm gently on his chest. She listened to his breathing. She

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