Page 18 of A Quick Pit Stop

He turns over in my arms so we’re face to face. “You’re a good guy, Dominic. And for the record, the rough stuff was hot as hell.” He presses his forehead against mine. “But I could get used to this part, too.”

“That makes two of us.” Being in charge of him, dominating him, was a rush. But this? Lying here, holding him, listening to him breathe? It feels just as good. Maybe even better.

“You don’t have to say that just to be nice.”

“I’m not.” I trace the line of his jaw with my thumb. “I’m really not.”

He smiles. It’s a genuine smile, not the cocky smirk he wears like armor. It changes his whole face. “So, you think you might want to do this again?”

“I think I might want to do this right now.”

“But…” He gestures toward the room, the mess, the afternoon light slanting through the cheap curtains. “We’ve got that whole… car situation.”

“That parts store is probably closed by now. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like putting my clothes back on.”

“Well, we have this room until tomorrow morning.”

“Let’s not waste it, then.”

He reaches down between us and wraps a hand around me. I’m getting hard again.

“Already?” he whispers.

“Blame yourself.”

EPILOGUE

DOMINIC

The line at the tollbooth moves slow. I tap the wheel, window down, elbow out. Ryan has his bare feet up on the dash and a gas station coffee balanced on his knee.

When I pull up to the booth, Gloria looks up from her little tray and squints at me over her glasses. Then she tilts her head, and a slow grin spreads across her face. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“You remember me?”

“A handsome face like yours is hard to forget. You were having a month, as I recall.” She winks at Ryan. “He tried to pay with a button.”

Ryan snorts, coffee sloshing onto the floor mats. “No shit.”

I hand Gloria a five. She counts out the change, slides it across the tray, then leans forward on both elbows. “So, handsome, did you find what you were looking for?”

I look over at Ryan, who’s wiping coffee off his knee with the back of his hand. He’s got a smudge of grease on his cheek from the engine trouble we had this morning and two days of stubble on his chin. He looks ridiculously hot.

We stayed at the motel for three days. Extended the room twice. Eating takeout in bed. Fucking on every surface. Talking about everything and nothing. Megan, the yoga asshole, the apartment... it all felt a thousand miles away. Well, it was. I told him things I’ve never told anyone. Ryan listened. And he told me things, too. Things that made him seem less like this unbreakable force and more like a guy dealing with his own shit.

After we dropped Ryan’s truck off at his place, we took mine on a road trip. Nothing crazy. Just a couple of weeks. Driving through the mountains and stopping in little towns. Fucking in the back seat at overlooks with the windows fogged. Getting breakfast at roadside diners with sticky tabletops, our voices still hoarse from the night before.

He took me to this bar, and I beat him at pool, and he swore he let me win. I kissed him right there. In front of everyone. He turned bright red. The guy who begged me to spit in his face, blushing over a kiss.

Gloria is still waiting for an answer. “Well?”

“Yeah,” I say, squeezing Ryan’s knee. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good for you, hon.” Gloria beams, tapping her electric blue nails on the ledge. “Good for you. Now, you boys have yourselves a safe trip.”

“Thanks.”

The arm lifts, and I pull away from the booth. Ryan turns in his seat to look at me.