Free Sunset Tryst by Kristin Daniels

heard way too many horror
stories,” she added.
    Garrett reached out and stroked Riley’s cheek with the backs
of his fingers. “You don’t have anything to worry about with us, babe. Right,
Evan?”
    Evan knew he should answer in agreement, knew that both of
them were waiting for him to. Instead he leaned in, kissed the top of her head
and said, “So I guess we’ll be using your rental this week?”
    Garrett eyed him for a moment before lifting the bike back
onto its kickstand and hopping off. “Sure. Where’s this festival again?”
    “About twenty minutes away, down in Panama City Beach.”
    “Let’s get moving, then,” Garrett said, swatting Riley’s ass
on his way past her.
    She giggled a little before sobering and turning her face up
to Evan’s as Garrett headed toward the back of the SUV for their bags. The
abrupt shift from giddy to the concern riddling her eyes now tore him up more than
any wreck on his bike ever could.
    “I’ll worry about you too, you know.” Even though she
whispered the words, they still struck him head-on, dead-center in his chest.
    “No need to worry about me. My hot-doggin’ days are way
behind me and I won’t be going back.”
    “Good,” she said, even though he knew she didn’t have a clue
what he was referring to. Hell, maybe he wasn’t so sure himself anymore.
Because the one thing he swore he’d never do again—the only thing he
promised himself he’d never again get caught up in—was staring him down now
with enough heat blazing in her eyes to light up a few catastrophic Florida
wildfires.
    And he knew right then it was going to take every bit of
power he had inside himself to not get burned alive.
     
    By the time they found a place to park and wormed their way
through a dozen or more booths offering up the same baskets of fried fresh fish
or battered salty pickles, or—wait, were those really deep-fried Whoopie
Pies?—Evan could practically taste the first sips of ice-cold beer sliding down
his throat.
    They sidled up to the first microbrew stand they came
across, where Evan took the liberty of ordering three beer flights. Each of the
four small glasses in the sampler ranged in varietal and were set up on thick
wooden paddles in descending shade—the darkest stout being on one end and the
lightest amber on the other. The souvenir serving tray might be kitschy and
all, but there was a method to Evan’s madness. As soon as he saw the paddle,
his mind flew in fifteen different directions with possibilities. Jesus, how
he’d love to use that with Riley—minus the glasses filled with beer, of
course—just so he could see her ass turn the perfect shade of pink from a sexy
spanking.
    He dug his hand in his front pocket for his money clip and
nonchalantly readjusted himself while he was in there. He caught his dick at
half-mast and willed the thing the rest of the way down. But it had a mind of
its own, especially when Riley laughed as the woman behind the counter handed
the paddle and beers over to her.
    “This is so great,” she said. “Gives new meaning to the
phrase serving up a spanking .”
    “Oh hell yeah,” Garrett said, leaning in closer to her after
being given his own sampler paddle. “I can think of a few ways to put this to
good use.”
    Damn if the man wasn’t reading Evan’s mind. There was no
hope of his cock going down now, not with images of Riley bent over while he
reddened her ass running through his mind. All he could think at that point was
how thankful he was for a nice pair of loose-fitting jeans.
    He followed them to a grouping of picnic tables set up next
to a small stage. According to the sign adjacent to it, a band was due to start
in a few minutes. Evan took advantage of the quiet before the group got going
and they wouldn’t be able to talk over the music. He sat next to Riley as
Garrett took the seat across from them.
    Evan took a sip of his first beer when they did, set it down
and licked the foam from his lips. Tasty