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“What do you mean?” He chuckled, still out of breath.
“You were everywhere,” she said, licking her lips. “You were hitting everything. All at once. Just perfectly. I can’t even—”
“I’m glad you had a good time.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I sure as hell did.”
“A good time,” she blurted, searching his face and expecting to see some kind of knowing smile. “You don’t even know. I’ve never had anyone just—”
“Then you’ve been with the wrong people. If it’s not that good every time, it’s not even worth it. And hell, we were in the back seat of a car. Wait until I get you in a bed. Wait until I buy you some toys. I’ll work you over until you can’t see straight. This was not even the best I can do.”
“It wasn’t?” she asked, finally releasing his face from her hands.
A car's headlights passed and lit the interior for a moment.
“Shit,” he said, sliding her shirt back down. “We can’t stay here like this.” He didn’t cover himself first. He made room for her to get her clothes back on before tending to himself. “Let’s just grab some quick food and then find a place to stay.”
“A place with a bed?” she asked, biting her lip.
“A bed we’re going to destroy,” he promised, clutching her breast through her shirt one more time before they both got out of the car.
There was no going back now. They’d crossed a line she’d known from the beginning she’d struggle not to. He was too hot. Too funny. The tension between them had been building at a breakneck pace. This was inevitable. But now, when they parted ways, she wasn’t just going to miss his humor and spontaneity. She’d have to mourn the loss of those skilled fingers and that dangerously nimble tongue.
CHAPTERNINE
Nick
It was Chinese takeout and a very dingy motel room. Not an ounce of romantic vibe to be found, still, Cleo looked like a model as she sat cross-legged in the desk chair, wearing tiny jean shorts.
“I’m ready to hand back a point on this one,” Nick said, looking around the very dated hotel room. “This place looks like the setting of a horror movie.”
“The food is good,” she said, trying to be agreeable. “Well, not good. But edible. So far.”
“We get one, maybe two nights away, and this is not where I thought we’d be spending it. I pictured—”
“What did you picture,” Cleo asked, twirling some noodles and batting her eyelashes. “I’d like to hear.”
“You don’t want a look in this mind.” He tapped his temple and laughed. “The things I dream up, the ones that involve you, are not suitable for public consumption.” He considered going into more detail. Showing her just how much being near her excited him. But this motel room didn’t exactly scream a sexy retreat. “Plus, this place is not exactly setting the mood.”
“Unless the mood is 1970s murder mystery.”
“We can go sleep in the car if you want?”
“I think we’re fine. I packed my giant blanket to throw over the bed. I’ve used my emergency disinfectant wipes to clean every hard surface.” She pointed at him. “Do not make a joke about your hard surface.”
She knew him too well. “I can sleep here if you can. I’ve crashed in worse places than this.”
“I believe it.”
“You know, now that I’ve seen your back arch and your legs shake like that, maybe it’s time to tell me more about who you really are. Something?”
The joy skittered away from her eyes, and he realized at that moment just how grave this must be. He didn’t want to be the source of any pain for her. “Actually, never mind. Maybe that came out wrong. Just forget I asked.”
“It’s okay,” she said, sipping her soda. “You deserve more answers than the weird dodgy stuff I’ve been giving you.”
“You owe me nothing,” he assured her. “I don’t know why I care so much. I just do.”
“Care about my secrets? I guess it’s human nature.”
“No, I care about why you look so damn sad when I ask. What hurt you so bad. I want to fix it.”
