"Uh-oh," he said. He glanced at her and grinned. "The animal is alive."
"Just thinking," she said. She stroked his thigh, her eyes closed again, letting herself feel the coarse weave of his jeans.
"Dammit," Lucas said after a few more minutes. "My dick is going to break off." He pushed himself up in the seat, reached down the front of his pants and changed things around. She laughed, and when he sat down, she put her hand back in his lap. He was erect, his penis reaching up beneath his fly to his belt.
"Ooo, too bad we're in a car," she said.
He looked over at her, grinned and said, "You've played this game before?"
"What game?" She stroked and he pushed her hand away.
"You're done," he said. "It's my turn. Take off your panty hose."
"Lucas…" she said. She sounded shocked, but she sat upright and looked out the car windows. They were alone on the rural highway.
"Come on, chicken. Off with the pants."
She looked at the speedometer. A steady sixty miles per hour. "You could kill us."
"Nope. I've played before."
"Mr. Experience, huh?"
"Come on, come on, you're bullshitting now. Off with the pants. Or live with the consequences."
"What consequences?"
"Deep in your heart, you'll know that I know you're chicken."
"All right, Davenport." She pushed herself off the seat, and with some difficulty pulled off her panty hose.
"Now the pants."
She pushed herself up again and took off her underpants.
"Here, I'll take them," Lucas said. Without thinking, she handed him the pants; he quickly dropped his window and threw them out.
"Davenport, for Christ's sakes…" She was looking back down the highway where the underpants had disappeared into a roadside ditch.
"I'll buy you new ones."
"Goddamn right," she said.
"So now you lean back and close your eyes." She looked at him and felt a blush crawling up her face. "Come on," he said.
She leaned back and his hand touched her thighs, the fingers just trailing along, from the joint of her hip to her knee, and back again. It was warm in the car and she felt the blood moving to her groin. Her mouth dropped open and the warmth continued to build.
"Oh, boy," she said after a few minutes. "Boy…"
"Moan for me," he said.
"What?"
"Moan for me. One good moan and Davenport stops the car."
She reached over and touched him. He felt huge under the jeans and she giggled. "I've got to stop giggling," she said lazily. She reached out again; then Lucas hit the brake and she rocked forward.
"What?" She looked wildly out the window.
"Jeffers petroglyphs," he said. "I've heard about them, but I've never seen them."
"What?" Lily was gasping, like a fish out of water. The car rocked as Lucas pulled into a grass-covered parking area. She pulled her skirt down.
"Indian carvings on some exposed rock," Lucas said. There were two other cars in the parking area, although a sign said the petroglyph monument was closed for the season. Lucas hopped out of the car and Lily got out on her side. In the distance, across a fence, they could see a half-dozen people looking down at a slab of reddish rock.
"Must have climbed the fence," Lucas said. "Come on."
Lucas vaulted the gate, then helped Lily clamber over.
"Christ, this is the last time I wear a dress on the road. And I feel so bare… you and your fucking games," she said. "From now on, it's tennis shoes and pants."
"You look good in a dress," he said as they walked up a graveled path. "You look terrific. And you look great without the underpants."
The petroglyphs were scratched into the flat surfaces of exposed red rock. There were outlines of hands, drawings of animals and birds, unknown symbols.
"Look how small their hands were," Lily said. She stooped and placed her own hand over one of the glyphs. Her hand was larger.
"Maybe it was a kid or a woman," Lucas said.
"Maybe." She stood straight and looked around at the rolling prairie and the adjoining cornfield. "I wonder what in the hell they would have been doing out here. There's nothing here."
"I don't know." Lucas looked around. The sky seemed huge, and he felt as though he were standing on the point of the planet. "You've got this rise, you can see forever. But I suppose it was really the rock. Further out west, there's an Indian quarry. It's old. The Indians would take out a soft red rock called pipestone. They made pipes and other stuff out of it."
The petroglyphs were carved on a gently sloping hillside and Lucas wandered with Lily down the slope, passing the other visitors. The others were on their hands and knees, tracing out the glyphs with their fingers. One woman was doing a charcoal rubbing on brown paper, transferring the designs. Two of them said hello. Lucas and Lily nodded.
"We've got to get going pretty soon if we want to make that meeting," Lucas said finally, glancing at his watch.
"Okay."
They walked slowly back to the car, the prairie wind blowing Lily's hair around her face. At the fence, she put one foot on the wire, and Lucas caught her from behind and squeezed.
"One small kiss," he said.
She turned and tipped up her face. The kiss started small and turned warmer, until they were dancing around slowly in the tall grass. She pushed him away after a moment and, breathing hard, looked down.
"These shoes… these heels, I'm going to twist my ankle."
"All right. Let's go." He helped her over the fence, then followed. As they walked to the car, he slipped his arm around her waist.
"I'm still turned on from fooling around in the car," he said.
"Hey. It's only three hours back to the Cities," she said playfully.
"And about two meetings after that."
"Tough luck, Davenport…"
He led her around the car, opened the passenger-side door, caught her by the arm, sat in the car and pulled her on top of him. "Come on."
"What?" She struggled for a moment, but he pulled her in.
"They can't see us from the road, and those other people are looking at the rocks," he said. "Face me."
"Lucas…" But she turned to face him.
"C'mon."
"I don't know how…"
"Just bend your knees up and sit, that's good, that's good."
"The car's too small, Lucas…"
"That's fine, you're fine. Jeez, has anybody ever told you that you've got one of the great asses in Western history?"
"Lucas, we can't…"
"Ah…"
She sat astride him, facing him, her knees apart, just enough room to move a half-dozen inches, and he began to rock, and she felt the morning's play coalescing around her. She closed her eyes, and rocked, and rocked, and the orgasm gathered and flowed and washed over her. She came back only when she heard Lucas say, "Oh, man, man…"
"Lucas," she said, and she giggled again and caught herself. She never giggled and now she was giggling every fifteen minutes.
"I needed that," he said. He was sweating and his eyes looked distant and sated. The door was partway open, and Lily looked out the window, then pushed it open with a foot and eased out onto the grass and pulled her skirt down. Lucas followed awkwardly, zipped up, then leaned forward and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed against his chest. They swayed together for a moment, then Lucas released her, looking dazed, and half staggered around the car.
"We better get going," he said.
"Right… okay." She got into the car, and Lucas started it and found the reverse gear. He slowly eased out onto the roadway, watching for traffic. The road was empty, but Lucas was preoccupied, so Lily saw them first.