I have rarely found grown women adorable, but she's making it hard not to think it…that is, until my eyes drift downward, and I realize the top button she was struggling with earlier has come undone. She doesn't appear to notice that she is partially exposed, and I find I don't care to point it out. Despite the strangeness of the situation, I'm enjoying myself. I've never had so much fun with a woman in bed that hasn't involved fucking.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demands. She moves to rise up, and my splayed hand on her breastbone forces her back down again onto her back. The look of indignation is gone, replaced by that wide-eyed look I can't help feeling addicted to already. She tries to play herself off as hard, but I can tell she is so naïve. I feel like a cat playing with its meal. I know it isn't polite. Maybe I should continue the trend, just to make sure she knows where things stand between us. To make sure we both know.
"I meant it before when I said you look awful." I give her an extra shove for good measure, before drawing my hand back. The threat of another button on that shirt coming undone seems very real. I have a momentary flash of taking that button between my teeth, tonguing the coin of plastic, before ultimately ripping it out and plunging my face between her heaving breasts. I've already asserted that I'm stronger than she is. It would be so easy, and somehow, I don't think this woman—Ana—would mind it.
She does mind getting pushed around in the same breath as she's being insulted, though. She draws herself up on her elbows and frowns deeply; contrary to my words, it only makes her look cuter.
"You didn't say I looked awful," she objects. "If I remember correctly, you said—"
"You clearly aren't well-rested," I interrupt her. "It's none of my business. But we aren't children. We can share a bed as two consenting adults and keep our hands to ourselves."
"You're going to give me whiplash," she mutters. She quickly rolls aside as I impose myself on the left side of the bed, establishing it as my territory. "One minute I think you're flirting with me, and the next you're insulting me. Then you offer me a ride when I need it most, practically without a word. You still haven't asked me who those men were."
"None of my business," I repeat. "And come morning, you're none of my business, either."
I reach over to switch off the bedside lamp, but my hand stalls when I hear her whispered question. "Why are you doing this?" Ana asks me. "There's nothing in it for you. If you're allowed to tell me how I look, then I have no problem telling you now that you don't look like a decent guy. You don't act like one, either…except when it counts."
"Is that a compliment?" I drawl ironically. The light is coming off now. I flip the switch, plunging the room into darkness, and fall back on the bed. Ana inches a little further from me, but not too far, I notice; I can feel the side of her soft hand brush against mine. She quickly pulls it away and secrets it beneath the covers. Again, a filthy thought comes to me unbidden, of all the illicit activities that hand might get up to under there, just out of sight. I want to fish for it and draw it to me. I want to settle it on the fast-stiffening bulge in my pants that the sudden darkness has provoked. Existing in shadow is a lot like dressing in black, I find: people act differently—dangerously. They say and do things they wouldn't normally let cross their lips, much less guide their hands.
"I'm not a decent man," I say finally. "Don't let a mental debate keep you up all night."
"Believe me, Mr. Flint," she quips. "I'm not concerned about thoughts of you keeping me up all night."
"Oh no?" I turn to the side to find my bedmate staring resolutely up at the ceiling. Before I can stop myself, I overturn quickly; the bed is smaller than the queen the reservation clerk promised, which would have been too small anyway for a man my size to comfortably share with anyone.
I hear Ana gasp beneath me in the darkness, and then feel her lie still. I hold myself aloft above her, keeping our bodies perfectly aligned, as if I have just pinned her in a wrestling match. I gaze down at her with amusement as I watch her long legs stir and slide together beneath the too-thin sheets that separate us.
Although I exerted little effort in the move, I can feel my heart starting to pulse hard, almost painfully, in my chest with our proximity. That was an unexpected side effect... I had not anticipated a little power play before bed to put me at a disadvantage.
"What are you doing?" Her voice rises to me in a harsh whisper, but it sounds sweet and tremulous. "I thought you said we were both adults here!"
"I'm starting to think that may be a problem after all," I rumble in my throat. I admire for a moment longer the way her lush red hair fans out around her head on the pillow; its fiery hue is even evident in the shadows of the unlit motel room. I shift slightly, pressing my knee against the outside of her thigh, and pull my right hand up from where it stabilizes me atop the bed. I see a flash of something across her face; she winces, as if she expects me to touch her, and this stalls my advance. I feel my own brows knit together in puzzlement as I watch her suck in a quick breath. I had mused on taking our intimacy further, but the anxiety in her expression draws me back into reality. We don't know each other. I'm a stranger to her, and her reaction to me now is indicative of a woman who has never been involved in the sort of one-night arrangement I'm inviting her to consider now.
But that doesn't mean I can't continue the fun, just for a little longer. I take the raised hand and reach across her to her bedside table. I punch a few buttons and set the clock alarm for early morning, before spinning off her and falling back onto my back. I'm surprised to find my erection straining insistently against the front of my pants now, but there is no ready relief I can give it. Looks like my playful come-on backfired spectacularly.
At least a sideways glance at Ana looks like she isn't going to get much rest sleeping beside me, either. This is a stark contrast to why I insisted we both take the bed earlier. I snort a long, low breath from my nose and roll over to face the other way. A good night almost crosses my lips, but I suppress it. She surprises me by speaking instead.
"Hey, what does 'R.B.' stand for?" she inquires conversationally. Almost like the last minute hasn't passed between us at all. She may be naïve and unused to the perils of the road, but she's certainly annoyingly good at bouncing back from situations that make her uncomfortable.
"Go to sleep," I reply.
"Is that the name of your gang? Are you in a gang?" she pressed. "Aren't you guys supposed to travel in a pack or something? If that's the case, why are you riding alone?"
I don't offer any ready answers to her questions, and I hear her sigh in frustration. She overturns herself and attempts to pull the blankets with her, but my weight atop them anchors them firmly in place. She sighs again, trying to signal for my cooperation, but I don't move. I'm pondering what she's said.
Why are you riding alone?
CHAPTER 5
ANA
I wake up with a strange pair of arms wrapped around me. In the moment between sleep and waking, I snuggle back against them, craving the warmth of another body. It has been so long since someone has held me this way that I don't even bother wondering where I am or who I am with. I trust my own judgement implicitly in the matter. Obviously, I wouldn't go to bed with just anyone. This man, whoever he is, must be safe. I close my eyes and prepare to drift back off to sleep.