Page 98 of Nowhere Good

“Don’t go,” he said.

“I have to.”

Before he could object, she was gone. She got on her bike and sped out of the parking lot, into the night.

Back inside the motel room, Seth crumpled on the edge of the bed. He was so heavy. Like a lead vest had been strapped to his chest. His body was exhausted, but his mind was on high-alert, replaying the images of Claire’s sad, beautiful face.

It felt so lonely in here, but it’d be lonelier in his one-bedroom apartment back in Kansas City. He lifted his gaze to the nightstand, where he’d placed the strawberry candle he bought at the fair. The one Claire made.

That painful feeling cleaved open his chest again.

He liked her so much, so suddenly, it scared him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he were leaving her in a place where she was safe and happy, but she clearly hated the way things were here. Too close or not, Seth wasn’t about to give up; eventually, Ron would get comfortable again, and maybe then he’d slip up. But that could take time.

A knock at the door jarred the silence. Assuming it was Gary from the motel’s front desk, he got up and opened the door.

Claire stood on the other side, breathless, stretching out her arms like she was trying to calm herself. “Hi. Um, sorry. I came back…”

“You came back,” he echoed in shock. They stared at each other for a moment before he held the door open. “Oh, come in. Please.”

She slipped under his arm, and he gently clicked the lock behind her. His palms grew sweaty the moment they were alone together. He hadn’t expected this, and now a swarm of nerves tackled the inside of his chest. She opened her mouth like she was about to speak, but came up with nothing.

Then, before he could process it, she jumped at him. Her arms looped around his neck, like they had in the hospital—only this time, her lips went straight for his, and then he was kissing her. Her lips were soft and pillowy beneath his, and it was a shock to his system, alighting every nerve. She tasted sweet and like everything he never knew he needed.

Fuck. This was happening.

He lowered her until her feet steadied on the floor as he fought for control of their kiss. He gripped the back of her head, burying his fingers in her soft hair as her fingers raked over his neck and pulled him closer. A quavering breath escaped her lips as he deepened their kiss, gliding his tongue across hers, desperate to taste every part of her, and she returned it with as much fervor.

He backed her against the door and gently wedged his knee between her legs, asking for permission to part them. She gave it to him.

Which meant she didn’t want him to stop—not yet.

The thought unlocked something almost feral inside him; his body needed it, he needed it, more than she knew. All his blood rushed to one, concentrated point. Every second he was trapped inside his pants, not inside her, was torture.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

When he broke their kiss, he craved the warmth of her mouth on his again, but he had to read her face, to be sure she wanted what he wanted. She looked up at him like she needed it just as bad. He gripped her hips in both his hands; she felt like she was made for him. He held her gaze, spun her toward the bed, and slowly backed her into it. She went with him willingly, desire pooling into her green eyes, turning them liquid.

He was desperate for more of her, so he tucked his fingertips beneath the bottom of her shirt. His silent request was answered when she pulled off her camisole and tossed it aside, revealing her smooth, creamy skin. Tan lines over her chest and shoulders. He drank her in, slipping his hand up her spine, across her ribs, until his palm cupped her breast and God, she was gorgeous. She hit the bed and sat back on it, parting her legs for him. He still needed more.

“Let me see you,” he breathed out.

He tugged at the hem of her shorts. She undid the button so he could easily slide them off, taking her underwear with them, until she was raw and bare beneath him.

He’d known every part of her would be perfect, but no mental image had prepared him for the real thing. She stared down at him, eyes half-lidded and intense, hair spilling over her breasts, cheeks red and almost shy.

“You’re perfect,” he rasped. And that made her smile in such a sexy way, it turned his brain to molten lava.

This was going to be… difficult. It’d been a while for him in general, something his body was quickly reminding him of as his pants grew unbearably tight. To last any amount of time with her would be a challenge.

He got down on his knees in front of the bed, tucked his hands over her hips, and pulled her toward his face. She whimpered in the prettiest way he’d ever heard. He needed to taste her, so he did, slow at first, then worked his way up. She winced like she’d been electrocuted.

“You okay?” he asked, worried she was having second thoughts.

She bit her index finger. “Sorry, it’s been a while…”

He grinned and relaxed. “For me too. Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.”

Claire nodded, giving him permission to delicately kiss her, until he found a rhythm that had her digging her hands into his hair and pulling him closer. Every breathy sound from her lips killed him, until holding back felt more like a test in pain tolerance. He slipped two fingers into her, testing her arousal. She clamped down on him. His entire body tensed.