Loving Dallas(40)

“Feel good, baby?”

“Y-Yes. But—”

“But?” I pull my head back to glance up at her again.

“After this, we are going out on the town, Dallas. I’m serious.”

I pull her delicate clit into my mouth once more before answering. “You got it, pretty girl. After this.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. I wanted to get Leaving Amarillo a few shows in the area but it just never worked out.” I look around at the colorful fabric of culture that is New Orleans. Every corner is painted and decorated like they’re prepared for a yearlong festival.

“Same here,” Robyn says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the crowd. “I’ve always wanted to come, but I just never got the chance. This is why I love my job. I get to travel and see the world.”

“That the only reason?”

Her eyes widen and I wink to let her know I’m playing around. Except I’m not sure that I am.

“Of course not.” She nudges me in the side. “I have great insurance benefits and a 401(k), too.”

I reach for her, tickling her around the rib cage hard until she cries out.

“Okay, okay! Stop! I might enjoy the fact that I get to see you. A little.”

“You’ve seen me a lot more than a little.” I growl softly, then kiss her below the ear.

She whimpers when I let my hands drift lower. “Dallas, we’re in public.”

“I don’t remember that bothering you,” I say, recalling a time after graduation when we indulged in some very public sexual acts in very crowded areas. Thankfully everyone else was too wasted to notice.

“You are so bad,” she tells me.

“You love it.”

Her silence tells me that I’m right. For the next hour we sightsee like she wanted, popping in and out of little shops and even buying some strange voodoo candles. We feed each other beignets and I kiss powdered sugar from her lips.

We grab gumbo for dinner and eat outside on a patio at a place on a busy street corner.

“It’s like it never stops here,” she says. “Like the city has its own heartbeat and it’s just constantly alive and awake.”

Beside us a woman, or it might be a man dressed as a woman, hell if I know, is being shoved into a police car. On the opposite corner a group of young men in tighty whities and wigs and lots of glittery makeup are pole dancing on some building pillars.

“Yeah, it’s alive and awake all right. And parts of it are f*cking weird.”

Robyn laughs at my discomfort. “We’re a long way from Amarillo, country boy.”

“You can say that again.”

She grins at me, then leans forward to run her nose against mine. “We’re a long way from Amarillo, country boy.” This time her voice is lower, huskier like I like it. The exact cadence that makes me want to spread her on this table and have her for dessert. This morning was just a taste—an appetizer. I’m ready for the main course.

“I haven’t been a boy in a long time, darlin’.” I wink and give her a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “But I think you know this already.”

Before she can respond, a jazz band starts up right beside where we’re sitting. Robyn doesn’t hesitate.

She jumps up from her dinner and runs to stand beside a dark-skinned gray-haired gentleman playing the saxophone. I watch in wonder as she dances along to the music, twirling until her dark blue dress with the little white flowers on it spins around her. Soon she isn’t alone and if it weren’t for her red hair, I’d be hard-pressed to find her in the crowd.

When I make my way to her, she collapses against my chest. “This is the best place ever. I love it here. Let’s never leave, okay?”

When she looks at up me with so much hope in her eyes, begging me to play along, I can’t help but give her what she wants.

“Okay,” I say, taking her hand for one more twirl. “We’ll never leave.”





24 | Robyn

IT’S FUNNY, AS A KID, I WASN’T A HUGE FAN OF PLAYING PRETEND. Yet as an adult I can’t seem to get enough of it.

After hours of dancing in the street and then in a swanky jazz club we happened upon by accident, Dallas and I return to his room like a couple returning to their honeymoon suite.

We should both be exhausted, but there is an energy pulsating between us that has a life of its own. There is something truly magical about this place—it’s as if the spirits of the past are charging the air around us, electrifying everything and everyone with their own never-ending high-velocity current.

Dallas excuses himself to use the restroom and I step out onto his balcony. It’s nearly four in the morning but the party is still going strong on the street down below. I’m mesmerized by the lively crowd, entranced by their energy and so engrossed that I don’t hear Dallas come up behind me.

“What a beautiful view,” he says softly, the deep rumble of his voice warming my blood.

“It is,” I agree, taking in the lights and the laughter down below. “It’s an amazing city.”

“I wasn’t talking about the city.”

I gasp audibly when his hands slide up my thighs, raising my dress as they go.

This isn’t real, Robyn. This is temporary. Casual, like he said. Don’t forget that. Don’t get confused about what this means. It’s a good time, that’s all.