Unbuckling myself from the seat, I meet Roman at the head of the car, getting myself trapped in his embrace as I try to scurry around the side of him.
“No kiss? I did just teach you to drive.”
Gripping his bulging biceps, I whirl my head to the side, giggling into his bare chest as his lips fight for my mouth.
“You told me to get behind the wheel and go. I wouldn’t call that teaching me anything.”
“And yet, here we are, and you fucking know how to drive. So, give me a fucking kiss and get your pretty ass in the car.”
The butterflies that lie dormant in my body come alive when his rough, dominant words filter through my ears. It never fails to surprise me that I don’t cower under his commanding tone or forceful presence, but what does shock me is how much I’ve come to enjoy it. It’s empowering.
He steals my lips and sends me on my way, but not without a swift smack on the ass before I can get too far.
Once we’re both strapped in the car, Roman takes off, nearly clipping the front bumper of another vehicle coming at us too quickly.
Exhaustion comes over me suddenly, and before I know it, I’m nodding off in my seat, holding on to that feeling of power.
I think I’m going to need it soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ROMAN
Wednesday
March 24, 2021
Is it creepy to watch someone sleep?
It must be, but I can't fucking tear my eyes away from her angelic face as she snuggles into the plump, off-white pillow.
We got in late last night. Or early this morning. I don’t fucking know, but either way, Amira is still fucking knocked out, and I don’t know if I should wake her or not.
We got to Casper, Wyoming at seven and found The Hidey-Hole at seven-thirty.
It’s well past one in the afternoon, and she’s still sleeping.
The idea of waking her up fucking sucks. She barely gets enough rest as it is.
Maybe I’ll just carry her to the car the same way I did to the room this morning. Then, she can stay asleep on the road.
The car is already packed. I took the quickest shower I could because the water was ice cold, but I feel fresh and alert enough to drive us all the way through Utah… maybe even possibly Nevada.
We’re tearing through this fucking trip, and I don’t know how or why. It’s not like we’re in any fucking rush, so why the hell are we moving so quickly?
An ache starts in my chest when I think of how close we are. I’ve avoided all television shows and radio stations because I don’t want to hear my name come across. We’ve eaten cheap, greasy fast food that’s beginning to make my fucking gut hurt because I don’t want to give anyone the chance to recognize me.
But isn’t that what's going to happen once we go home? Everyone will fucking know me. And then what? Someone calls the cops, and I go back to jail?
Fuck that.
Why the fuck are we rushing?
We should stay.
We should go back to Solime Canyon.
I never should have brought her back here to begin with.
