“I’m serious,” he complained. “Understanding the term was a part of the Truck Transportation merit badge.”
“Merit badges are what you’re basing this knowledge on?”
“Sure. Why not? The Scouts have more than a hundred merit badges, and they aren’t exactly easy to earn.”
“A hundred?”
“Yeah. Everything from stamp collecting to crime prevention. It wasn’t all wilderness survival and how to tie knots.”
“What happened? I mean, why didn’t you make Eagle Scout?”
Arnie chuckled. “The one thing there wasn’t a merit badge for was sex. So to answer your question, girls happened. Lost interest after that.”
“On that note, I’m going to look for ice cream.” She waved her phone, and in less than ninety seconds, she was yelling at him to exit the main road.
The shop in the center of a modest strip of newly constructed stores was a faithful reproduction of a quaint, old-fashioned ice cream parlor—right down to the red-and-white-striped chairs.
They were the only customers, and before long, a lively back and forth broke out between them and the two scoopers manning the long ice cream case. Several samples later, he’d tasted the difference between dark, milk, Belgian, Dutch, and fudgy chocolate. The lesson was repeated with the vanilla flavors.
“I love the smooth vanilla bean,” Summer cooed. The way she lingered over a tiny plastic sample spoon of the creamy treat did the expected to his dick. Watching her tongue make love to the red plastic made him horny as hell.
They took a seat at a bistro table in the corner by the window. He eyed the shop’s furniture with a cynical eye. Big guys and tiny chairs were not a good match.
Perching carefully on the striped seat, he somehow managed to balance his ass and devour a double scoop of mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone.
“What do you want to do after this?”
She appeared to consider the question, but he wasn’t fooled. Her aura pulsed with energy so strong it body slammed into him and scrambled his thoughts. There was only one thing on her naughty little mind. He ate his ice cream and hid a pleased grin.
“I don’t know,” she muttered with a completely unbelievable roll of her shoulder. “What do you want to do?”
He had an urge to check his watch and see exactly how many hours it took for her to reach this point. Right now, all the little lady could think about was lying under him while he fucked her senseless.
As he made a quick mental plan, his dick signaled approval with a throb.
“Me? What do I want to do?” His amusement was obvious. “I want to wear you on my cock. Does that answer your question?”
His blunt admission caused her to inhale sharply. Next thing he knew, she was beet red and claiming brain freeze as the culprit.
Wearing her on his cock was a raunchy visual made all the better because he knew she was imagining it.
In the parking lot, he asked for her roof preference—open or closed. He wasn’t surprised when she requested it be closed. Introducing sexual heat to their agenda had changed her demeanor. She became softer and less energetic.
After getting her settled, he rounded the vehicle and climbed in. The second his door shut, she was on him, begging to be kissed.
The front seat comfort level and inhibited accessibility to her soft body earned the Jeep a thumbs-down rating. What saved the vehicle from top honors on his shit list was how fast it could go. The return trip to Santa Barbara took no time at all.
He grumbled about waiting in the Jeep while she ran into her apartment to pack an overnight bag. Alone with his thoughts, Arnie’s first instinct was to check his phone. Dottie hadn’t called, but King left a message. It wasn’t marked priority, so he ignored it for now. Reminded of the clock ticking in the background, he did a quick assessment of where things stood.
He had fallen hard for the California girl next door and had to tell her ASAP.
He also didn’t care if some thought she was too young for him or he was too old. Love couldn’t be ignored.
However, the spontaneity of their initial meeting and subsequent affair complicated things. They’d never even been formally introduced. He didn’t have her phone number, and though Arnie searched his memory, he kept coming up empty-handed on her last name.
She was a twenty-four-year-old waitress with a brother in the Army. Her mother had gone MIA a