Page 127 of Red Marked

Flint

I fist pump the air like a crazy person. Then I look around, but thankfully, there is no one to see me do it because it’s freaking late.

I’ve been to several drugstores that were all closed. This is the third gas station.

Finally.

The condoms are on a rack beside the register, wedged in between the lip balm and the energy shots. I could kiss the kid behind the counter, but I don’t. He’s a human and eating a corn dog. He has yet to look up from his phone.

I grab a twelve-pack.

Then I put it back and take the twenty-four.

We have one more night after tonight. Magma’s guy still hasn’t come through with that ID, and until he does, we’re stuck in that shoebox with one bed. I have a couple of things to prove.

I groan softly, bowing my head just thinking about earlier.

I couldn’t stop myself. I just couldn’t.

I tried to think about other things. I tried to slow down. None of it worked.

Star felt so fucking good. That, paired with my lack of sex over the last six or seven months, had me coming like a teenager.

Twenty-four condoms are optimistic, but what the hell. I’d rather have too many than be standing in this aisle again tomorrow.

The kid rings me up without a word. His eyes drop to the box, then up to me, and he goes back to his corn dog. Whatever he’s thinking, he’s right.

I drive too fast.

I know I’m doing it. I take the turn onto the main road hard enough that the box slides across the passenger seat and thumps against the door, so I ease off, and a minute later I’m pressing the accelerator again.

The hotel lot is almost full, but my parking spot is still available when I get back. I swing into the bay, and I’m out before the car has finished ticking. The elevator is sitting on the fourth floor. I don’t wait for it. Instead, I hit the stairs four at a time, and I’m not even winded when I reach the hallway.

The key card works on the first try.

Thank fuck.

I shove the door open with my shoulder, and I have her name halfway out of my mouth when I see Star.

She’s on her back in the middle of the bed with the sheet twisted around one leg, and she’s fast asleep. The takeout box is open on her stomach. One hand is curled around the edge of it. Her lips are parted, and there’s a tiny smear of sauce on her chin.

Fucking adorable.

So damned sexy.

For a second, I’m tempted to wake her up.

She mutters something and then settles. I smile and let the door close quietly behind me.

I put the pack of condoms on the desk. Then I go to the bed and get two fingers under the edge of the box and ease it out from under her hand. She frowns. Her fingers close on nothing, and she makes a small unhappy sound and turns her face into the pillow. I hold still with the box in the air until she stills.

Then I close the lid and put it down next to the condoms.

The comforter is in a heap at the foot of the bed where it ended up when I put her on the mattress. I carefully lay it over her, pulling it up to her shoulders, and she sighs and burrows.

I strip and slowly lift the corner of the comforter and get one knee on the mattress. The whole bed dips and creaks, but she doesn’t move. I ease in behind her an inch at a time. I’m on my side, because that’s the only way I fit, with my back to the wall and my knees tucked in behind hers. I get my head down on the strip of pillow she’s left me and stop.

Shit.