I smirk, and at this point I don’t think she can even see me. “That’s right. Just for tonight. Now come on, let’s get going before another storm hits. It’s already past midnight.”
5 Hayden
As we make our way to his place, it hits me just how out of the way it really is. My place is back the other direction, and I feel the beginning of a hangover starting. I keep closing my eyes, letting the soft radio fill the quiet as he drives.
His presence is all consuming. Scott’s flirty smiles have nothing on this man, and the glimpses of Keith that I’ve had in the truck’s headlights really give me the idea that some sort of storm god is sitting in the driver’s seat. Now he’s in control of my night as we drive towards his house, and I tell myself to get my mind out of the gutter each time I look at him.
Keith fulfills all my fictional, damsel in distress daydreams that pop up when I’m painting an unrealistic fantasy for myself. He wasn’t out looking for me, it was an accident. If Scott hadn’t parked like a dick, leaving his car halfway out on the road, Keith and Beck never would have found me and I wouldn’t be here.
I open my eyes again when the nausea returns, sipping the bottle of water Keith handed me when we took off. I’m trying to look anywhere but at the dash and with all the crazy equipment inside, it’s an easier task than I thought. There’s a massive camera that reminds me of a film studio mounted on the dashboard, which Keith explained that they use for storm tracking. At first I thought these people just chased storms for the hell of it, but there seems to be a science behind their insanity.
I love it. As much as it shouldn’t, it sets my mind at ease a teeny, tiny bit. I’ve already made poor decisions tonight, but maybe this one isn’t so bad?
Part of me wants to flirt with Keith and see if there’s more than one reason he’s bringing me all the way back to his house when he already had a hotel room. I’m certain that there is, and my body has determined that this is a very good idea and I shouldn’t be worried at all. Reasonably, I know this is like taking a giant leap of faith right into the land of stupid choices, but I can’t help myself.
Keith is yummy. Dreamy. Those muscles are going to live rent free in my head for a long time. And after being forgotten like extra luggage by my so-called new friends before the tornado hit, I’m feeling a little bit careless. If he’s interested in me, I definitely want him. He sees something worthwhile at least.
Even if we only spend a night together, it’s a better night than how my day started. I’m never drinking at a college party with people I barely know again. I could’ve had a Dorothy moment if the car got swept up in the tornado.
“Gonna relax?” Muscles asks me with a laugh. I think calling him Muscles in my head makes him less intimidating, but it doesn’t help me focus.
Yeah… I could be rescued from a trunk by someone much worse.
I lick my lips, sipping the water to delay my response. I want to see this great big house of his. No one tagged along with us, and if Keith ends up being a dick then I'm stuck in this isolated place with him. “Depends on what your house is like, Muscles. Do you usually bring home random people you rescue from a tornado?”
He snorts. “It was a car, and the trunk was half open. Rescuing people from storms isn’t something I usually do.”
“They popped the trunk for me,” I mutter. I kind of remember Scott saying that, but it was hazy. Getting in was a dumb idea, I can’t argue it now.
Keith hums, and I try to focus on the landscape rushing by in the dark. Against the sky there are outlines here and there of buildings in the distance, but nothing that I can really make out in the middle of the night. I should definitely be more concerned about where we are going, but how can my night get any worse?
“Hayden,” Keith says, his voice turning serious. I glance at his face in the cab of the truck, but he’s still focused ahead on the dark road. “You know I want you at my house for a reason.”
A shiver dances up my spine at the same time that I clamp my legs together. The jeans are doing nothing to help me right now, and I’m both hot and cold as I play his words over in my head. “You’re not subtle, Muscles. I had an idea.”
He shoots me a smirk before reaching across the truck, his long arm letting him grip my thigh even with the ridiculous amount of space in here. I shudder at his touch, my mind already thinking dirty things, and let my legs fall open instead of keeping them pressed together.
He makes a growling sound low in his throat, and it makes heat pool low in my body. God, I need to get laid, and the fact that someone still wants me after I’ve spent the night humiliating myself helps to stroke my ego a little bit. “You shouldn’t even be on my radar.”
“But I am,” I reply, leaning back against the headrest. I grab his hand, dragging his palm upward until he brushes my center, andhe twists his fingers around to stroke over the space between my legs. Wearing jeans was a mistake. There’s way too much fabric in the way of his touch.
My eyes roll as I whimper. I’m definitely going to get lost in this man tonight, bad idea or not.
“Hayden,” he says again, his voice strained. “There’s something you need to know before you sleep with me. I promise you’ll have fun, and I make damn good on my word. But I have a bit of a ritual when I bring girls home with me. Something that makes us both more comfortable.”
I frown, confusion seeping through the lust clouding my brain. Ritual should set off warning bells, but Keith doesn’t give me cult vibes. He’s got an older maturity about him that doesn’t lead me to believe he intends on sacrificing me.
Okay, maybe the alcohol is still influencing my ideas more than I thought. I clear my throat, clasping my hands together behind my back before responding. “What ritual?”
“I like to make sure we’re both protected so we can have as wild a night as we want,” he says, and my thoughts immediately jump to condoms and birth control. I’m about to cut in, but he keeps going, steamrolling over any objection I might’ve had. “Think of it like a contingency plan—for both of us. It’s not one-sided. It’s about keeping things clear and safe.” He pauses, then adds, “But there’s a contract I’d like you to sign.”
Nerves creep in. I’ve never had a guy ask me to sign something before, and contraception concerns fade as I think about what that means. “Contract?”
He glances over again, shooting me a grin. “Yes. A contract with the OGB.”
~~~
I thought Keith had lost his marbles, but when he breaks down for me that OGB stands forOff-Grid Billionaires,I’m still convinced it’s a joke.
