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Which was ridiculous, considering what we’d been doing all evening. I mean, we’d used some napkins he had stashed in his glove compartment to clean me up, but I was still messy with his cum, he’d emptied into me so many times. My breath caught at the memories and I was torn between wanting to run to a shower right away and wanting to linger with the scent of him all over me for the day at least as a reminder to prove to myself that this had all actually happened.
If not for the soreness between my legs, I might be tempted to think it was all a fever dream.
Especially when Jeremiah climbed back in the truck, his face completely composed and no-nonsense.
“We should hurry back to the ranch. They’ll be worried about us not coming home last night.”
I nodded, reaching down and pulling my cell phone out. “I’ll call them as soon as we— Well, I would have if my battery hadn’t died.”
Jeremiah reached for his phone and plugged it into a wire coming from the center console as he turned on the truck. “You can text them from my phone as soon as we get somewhere there’s service.”
I nodded, looking at my lap.
Then he’d pulled the truck into drive and we were pulling forward, the trailer behind us clanking as it tugged along.
We rounded the corner and there was the stream that had trapped us last night. White water raced underneath the bridge, but at least it was an inch below the road now. It must have only just become passable.
Jeremiah took it slow as our truck and trailer rattled over, and then, just like that, we were on the other side. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder out the back window.
It didn’t look like anything special, so why did I feel like our night back there had changed everything? I snuck a look at Jeremiah, but his face was unreadable.
I was just opening my mouth to ask what all this meant, if we were supposed to pretend like last night hadn’t happened or what, when Jeremiah reached over and switched the radio on to a morning news station.
They talked about the night rainstorms that had caused flash-flooding in the area.
He didn’t say anything else. He’d been so kind and accommodating last night, why couldn’t he sense I needed him to say something about all that had happened?
I started to reach out for him, maybe to touch his arm or his thigh. He must have sensed me because his head whipped my direction. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.
I jerked my hand back. Okay. So he was still a jackass outside of… outside of the things we’d done last night. I turned my head away from him, glaring out my passenger’s seat window, not wanting to let on how much that hurt.
Had my body literally just been a way for him to amuse himself when he was bored? Then I shook my head. Fuck not getting answers. A man couldn’t— He couldn’t just dominate me like that and then—
“So what the hell was that last night?” I asked, my voice coming out more combative than I intended .
His gaze didn’t veer away from the road as he drove slowly, carefully, on the still rain-slicked roads. While the drizzle had slowed through the night, it must have only stopped for good maybe an hour ago.
Finally, his heavy eyes came my direction. “Last night can be whatever you want it to be,” he finally said as his eyes moved back to the road as we rounded a particularly sharp curve.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Well,” he said, tilting his head. “It’s clear there’s some”—he shook his head like he didn’t know how to finish the thought—“some chemistry between us. We can choose to explore that. Be friends with benefits, as it were. Or we can forget last night ever happened. It’s up to you.”
I snorted, propping one knee up on the dash. “Oh, sure. Let’s just forget you came in me so many times last night not even the napkins could keep up by the end. Frankly, I didn’t know that was possible for men. Four times in one night?” I shook my head, my belly tightening. “Shit.”
That had his head whipping toward me real fast. And the way his jaw was tight as his eyes quickly tracked up my thigh before his head jerked back to look out the front windshield told me he wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon, either.
“I’m not my brother,” he stated gruffly, eyes still firmly on the road. “I don’t do hearts and flowers. Or engagement rings.”
That had me cracking up. I literally slapped my knee I was laughing so hard. “Slow down, cowboy. And I always wondered why you never had any dates. Mystery solved.”
I shook my head, my giggles slowing. “As far as I understood, we were just talking about scratching each other’s itches. Stress relief.” I yawned and stretched. Because God, I hadn’t realized what a bundle of stress I’d been, what with all the wedding prep and trying to find a job for the last six months. The part-time job I’d taken as a barista to pay my half of the rent didn’t count.
But all my limbs felt completely relaxed. Okay, I was a little sore from using muscles I hadn’t for a while, but it was a good sore. And I felt like I could sleep for twenty-four hours. Easy sleep, though, not the restless tossing and turning I’d been doing lately.
“Stress relief,” he repeated, considering, and then he nodded as if he liked the sound of it.
He shot a quick glance my way. “Is this us actually agreeing on something for once?”
