“You know,” I say, letting him take my arm as he leads me into the empty park. “They have fast passes.”
Jackson shrugs. “Yeah, well, I don’t really like people all that much either.”
“As a person, consider me offended.”
He looks down at me with those icy eyes, but there’s a cold heat in them, threatening to burn right through all my good sense and all my reason. “You’re not like them, Princess.”
I squeeze his arm a little tighter, wondering how just a few simple words can work their way into my chest and do such wonderful things, how they can melt away years of insecurity and doubt, and how they can make my feelings toward him blossom so quickly into something frighteningly strong.
We move through the empty entrance of the park, but instead of creepy it feels almost magical. The lights in all the shops are on and fun music booms through the air. It starts to sink in that this is all for me. He arranged all of this for me, and it’s so far beyond anything a guy has ever done for me I’m having trouble even comprehending. So I don’t dwell on it. I let him lead me by the arm through the park until we approach a staircase to what looks like a rollercoaster.
“Is this safe?” I ask. “Aren’t there normally employees here to make sure the coasters don’t fly off the tracks or something?”
“I took care of it,” he says.
A few moments later, I see he did do exactly that. There’s a bored looking teenage girl who looks half-asleep leaning near the coaster. She perks up when she sees us. Jackson slips her some money and leads us to the front of the ride. The girl checks our harnesses and moves to a side area where she presses a button and sets the ride in motion.
The ride clicks slowly into the open night and starts to climb a very high section of track. I look out over the sparkling lights of the city, the empty park beneath us. He did all of this for me. Whether he’s just trying to sleep with me or not, no guy has ever come close to making a gesture like this for me. Before this, the most romantic thing a guy ever did for me was the time Landon Marshall lent me a few bucks to pay for lunch when I forgot it back in middle school. And it turned out he expected me to pay him back the following day.
I look over at Jackson, smiling. “Thank you,” I say, having to raise my voice over the clicking of the coaster.
“We’re just getting started. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
I bite my lip, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. “I didn’t know you were into magic,” I say, frowning at the stupidity of my own comment a split second later. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that? I just, um, look forward to seeing what’s under your shirt--up your sleeve,” I add quickly, clapping a hand to my forehead in embarrassment.
He chuckles. “You will. After all, I need to know your real name before I can get you to sign the contract.”
The contract. He says it so casually, but I’m reminded of what’s hanging between us. Can I really sign myself over to him like that? Can I just put my name on a piece of paper that says I’m his, completely and totally?
The roller coaster reaches the top of the climb and the track goes horizontal long enough for us to do a quick half-circle. Just long enough for me to realize exactly how high in the air we are. My breath catches and my hand involuntarily seeks out Jackson’s. He grips my hand back firmly enough to make me feel safe and protected. Firm enough to know the only way I’m getting out of his grasp is if he lets me.
The coaster pauses dramatically while we’re pointed almost straight at the ground and then something beneath us releases, letting us free-fall down the track so fast it makes my eyes water. The next minute goes by in a flash of rushing wind, sharp turns, wild speed, and above all, the warmth of Jackson’s hand against mine. Even as I squeeze and clutch on to him like my life depends on it, his hand never falters in its grip.
When the ride ends, our harnesses raise and I self-consciously try to fix the damage the ride must have done to my hair. “The secret of my massive forehead is out,” I say as I try to push my hair back in place. Somehow, Jackson looks just as perfect as always. The slight wildness the ride added to his hair only makes him seem even more sexy and rugged.
He surprises me by leaning over and kissing the center of my forehead, saying nothing but somehow melting away my insecurities with the heat of his touch.
I don’t let go of his hand as we get up and he doesn’t let go of mine.
I can’t believe I’m here. Not just in a theme park that he rented out for just us, but I can’t believe I’m on a date with a man almost twice my age. It should feel creepy, but it doesn’t. I just feel special to be chosen by him. He could have any woman he wants. Probably any woman in the country, married or not. I doubt anyone would say no to him.
The next few hours are some of the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Jackson lets me pick anything I want to ride and comes along, always finding reasons to touch me, whether his hands are on my shoulders, around my waist, or just holding my hand. His touch is possessive, almost greedy, and I absolutely love it.
We sit on a bench outside a roller coaster while I catch my breath and try to regain my balance. It must be nearly midnight by now, and I’m starting to feel a heaviness in my eyes, but I don’t want the night to end.
“So,” Jackson says as we approach an end of the park where the music is distant and the clink of rides is faint. “I want you to close your eyes.”
I laugh a little, closing my eyes but not understanding.
He starts to tie something around my eyes. My impulse is to reach for it but I fight it down, standing still and waiting patiently.
“Now turn to your right and start walking,” he commands. There’s a note in his voice. It’s almost dangerous, as if disobedience would carry consequences, except the thought of discovering the cost has my core tingling with heat.
“I can’t see,” I say.
“You can hear my voice. You don’t need anything else. Turn to your right and start walking. Don’t make me say it again.”
I do as he says, each step igniting a mini panic attack because I’m convinced I’ll bump head first into a pole or trip over a curb. But I feel only the slight sloping of the ground beneath me as I walk downhill. The sound dulls around me and I sense we’re moving inside a structure. He prompts me to turn or veer to the right and left a few times until finally ordering me to stop.
I do as I’m told, standing in the center of a room that feels damp and chilly, surrounded by the sounds of echoing water and faint familiar yet unidentifiable sounds. They are almost ethereal. I hear Jackson’s footsteps as he moves around the room, saying nothing. The moment stretches between us and I start to wonder what he’s doing, if he’s ever going to speak, or if he’s going to just leave me here.
I hear him approaching me quickly from behind. I hunch my shoulders slightly, almost expecting to be tackled or hit, but instead he grips my shoulders gently and kisses my neck. His lips are warm and velvety against my skin and I find myself leaning into his touch, sighing with pleasure. His hands move down from my shoulders to my chest, cupping my breasts and lighting hot paths of pleasure that spread through my body like wildfire. I’ve never been touched like this. I’ve never felt like this. Just when the sensation almost gets to be too much to handle, he strips the mask from my eyes and leaves me gasping for breath, squinting my eyes against the blue light washing over us from the huge tanks of water on either side.