Page 47 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes

Quietly, Daisy said, “But you got out. You were living in New-Freaking-York on your own and killing it. Sounds to me like you planned pretty damn well.”

Sighing, Candace leaned her head against Daisy’s shoulder. In a murmur, she answered, “Too well for something wrong. How could anything I planned have been right when it didn’t involve you?”

Daisy could feel Candace’s sidelong gaze on her, even though she could only see the barest hint of her silhouette in the darkness. If they were not walking together, she might have swooned.

“So,” Candace concluded, “for now, I’m not going to worry. I’m going to enjoy our date, and let it be. Right?”

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed as her heart melted. “I think you’re onto something.”

They ambled for a while longer. Their imprints in the sand were left side by side, in perfect step. Out of the blue, Candace pointed ahead.

“What’s that?”

Daisy peered through the inky blackness. A tall, but not overly large, stilted structure stood at the very edge of the shoreline. With the storm clouds overhead blocking out the moon and stars, the night was particularly dark. It was only as they came right up to its base that Daisy knew for sure.

“It’s a lifeguard stand. One of the covered ones they bring out when it’s supposed to rain. They must’ve forgotten to wheel this one back.”

Daisy urged Candace to the front of the ladder. It was about ten rungs up, high enough for the lifeguards to have a decent vantage point but low enough for them to make a quick descent.

Without giving it too much thought, Daisy started to climb.

“What are you doing?!”

“Trespassing. C’mon, my legs could use a break.”

At the top, Daisy pulled her way into the plywood construction.

The vague smell of lumber and paint told her this was one of the newer boxes that her lifeguard regulars had been excited about; something about lights, seating, and a lack of mildew.

Sure enough, as she groped along the half-wall ledge, she found a switch.

“Nice! Our tax dollars at work.”

Wrapped around the counter lip of the half-wall, a thin strip of LEDs came to life. A warm, yellow glow filled the small space. It illuminated a bleacher bench along the back but, apart from that, there was nothing else. Wonderwood did not want its lifeguards distracted from their duty.

As Candace’s head popped up at the floor’s base, Daisy reached down to help her the rest of the way. Her eyes gave the place an unimpressed assessment.

“Is this thing even safe?”

“Not good enough for the Pier Princess, hm? From the woman who just rode a rickety roller coaster three times.”

Daisy, who had not yet released Candace, tugged her close. Her grip sailed from the woman’s wrist to cradle the base of her neck.

“Yes, well… I guess there are worse ways to go.”

Fuck , Daisy thought as she observed the beauty in her arms. Candace was gorgeous. In the warm, low light, even with her hair wind-mussed and dress disheveled, she looked like an actual princess.

And Daisy was the baker about to defile her.

Surging forward, Daisy took Candace’s mouth. There was no question, no hesitation, in the crash of their lips and tongues. No gentleness or careful caress, either, as they both fought to take lead.

Unlike before, Candace did not seem to be holding back. Her kisses were urgent—unrefined yet wholly focused. Short springs of mallow fluff, sweetly coy, followed by languid, wet molasses drips.

Soon, it was all Daisy could do to keep up.

The hands that delved under Daisy’s blazer smoothly slipped it from her shoulders. Then, without missing a beat, they went for her belt. Her pulse skyrocketed, listening to the woman deftly work the clasp free.

Drawing in a breath, Daisy braced herself against the half wall. She could not believe it; Candace Perry was stripping her in a lifeguard stand. She managed to pull back just enough to question it in a breathless gasp.

“ Here?”

“What?” Candace giggled, teasing, “Not good enough for you?”

“It’s not that. It’s just—ah!”

A sting, followed by shivering pleasure, coursed through Daisy as Candace nipped her neck. Fast and devouring, the woman sucked and nibbled the exposed skin along the bust of Daisy’s crop top. As she spoke, the vibration of her voice sent shockwaves through each spot.

“You told me that I could taste you. So, can’t I ?”

Toss me in the oven and cook me, please.

Words beyond her, Daisy’s head bobbed. Rough, hard wood filled her grip. She held the wall ledge as her jeans’ zipper was undone, one tooth at a time.

A sharp breath filled her lungs at the fingers that skimmed inside the new gap. They trended along her underwear, tracing the edge of the cloth as if it were a starting line. Her whole body clenched with anticipation at the single digit that slipped under, heading towards—

“Ouch!”

Daisy jolted, and not with pleasure, as Candace accidentally pinched her labia.

Lack of moisture would do that; Daisy’s body and mind were not on the same page.

She felt like the dog who caught the car.

She had Candace exactly where she wanted her, was desperate for her, yet her biological response was… lacking.

Candace pulled back. Brows knitted, she searched Daisy’s face.

“Now I’m the one going too fast. Should I—?”

“ No! ” Daisy licked her swollen lips and deflated with embarrassment. “I fucking need this, it’s just… been a while. And I’m not really used to being on the receiving end. I think my body is catching up.”

“Hm...”

Nodding, Candace’s nervous expression softened. Her touch returned, wrapping around Daisy’s hips and hooking into the loosened jean waistline. She paused like that and met Daisy’s gaze.

It was not permission Candace Perry waited for; no, she knew she had that in spades. The smile that curled her lips was equal parts devilish and demure. As she eased Daisy’s pants down with one hand, she hiked her dress up with the other .

“I need this too,” she breathed.

Then, with their legs fitted like puzzle pieces, she curled against Daisy.

Oh, shit.

Candace Perry—the prim, pristine model of conservative grace—was going commando.

Hot, sticky wetness trailed along Daisy’s thigh. The heady scent of lilac steeped with honey wafted up like an aphrodisiac musk. Her muscles throbbed in response. She found herself moving along with Candace, meeting the lips that sought hers and flexing to improve their position against the wall.

“You’re not receiving anything,” Candace corrected in a taunt broken by fervent kisses. The hitch of her breath, the desperation of her continued thrusts, was undercut by the command in her tone. “I’m getting what I want, and what I want to do is fuck you, any way you’ll let me. Is that alright?”

“Candace Perry gets what she wants.”

Daisy took one of her hands from the ledge to raise Candace’s leg from below. She loved the gasp it drew and how her fingers sank into springy flesh. The woman’s rear was as perfect as Daisy always thought.

In languid, luxurious draws, Daisy rocked Candace along her thigh. She gorged on cries and whimpers, the needful sounds that increased with each subtle shift.

Wild with want was the best way to describe Candace. There was vulnerability in her assertiveness, too. Guilt and shame that seemed to haunt the woman were absent as she let herself come undone.

It was not long before Candace reached her release. Shuddering and sweating, she collapsed against Daisy; she might have fallen without the extra support.

In a steady, rhythmic pulse, Candace’s pussy drummed against Daisy. As they stayed there, molten drips seeped between them. She could not stop herself from reaching down and taking a taste.

“What do you think?” Candace asked, panting, “Am I as sweet as you thought I would be?”

Daisy greedily sucked her fingers clean.

“Even sweeter. Thanks for the dessert.”

Candace let loose a breathy chuckle. She relaxed against Daisy, molded to her like putty. One hand found its way under Daisy’s crop top to idly grope. Her fingers played circles along the sensitive skin, blazing trails with goosebumps. The touch was pleasant, but nowhere near enough.

Daisy might not have been ready before Candace’s display, but now, she was rearing to go. Impatience drove her. She stole one of Candace’s hands and plunged it beneath her underwear to her own sopping heat.

“What about me? How do I taste?”

“Oooh,” Candace purred. “You’ve caught up…”

A groan escaped through Daisy’s clenched teeth. She bucked as Candace swept along her entrance in one long, slow slip. With pressure placed at the base of her wrist, most intense right over Daisy’s throbbing clit, it felt like a rolling tsunami.

Candace’s withdrawal was as maddening as it was seductive; the way in which she inspected her slick-covered hand, smelling and licking it, was nothing short of feral. Her lidded gaze held Daisy’s the whole time.

Husky, she begged, “Can I have another sample, please?”

There was no way Daisy could even pretend to deny the pleading princess before her.

Nor did she resist Candace guiding her to sit on the bleacher bench.

With her crop top and underwear removed, she was exposed in the nighttime air.

Yet, as Candace fanned Daisy’s knees apart and settled between them, she felt powerful.

Being between a woman’s legs was rivaled only by having a woman between your legs. And this particular view of this particular woman was something truly magnificent.

With annoyance, Candace muttered, “One second…”

Fast and weaving, she re-tied her hair.

Mesmerized, Daisy watched how Candace’s biceps flexed as they raised over her head, how her hands twined and wrists flicked, tightening her locks into a neat tail in one smooth, deft motion. She was like a warrior suiting up for battle.

Daisy struck out first.