“Such a jerk,” she breathed, pulling away, her cheeks flaming red, while I laughed. “I can’t believe you.”
I shrugged and unfastened my pants, pushing them down until I could step out of them, leaving me in just a pair of boxers.
“I wasn’t joking, you know? You really do have goat shit in your hair. It looks like it’s on your jeans too.” I motioned toward a dirty spot on her leg.
“Ugh, I’m getting a shower.”
“Good. You stink,” I said, pulling the blankets back on the bed.
She entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her as I climbed into a warm and comfortable bed. I turned on the TV and turned off the bedside lamp as I flipped through the TV channels. Twenty or so minutes later, she exited the bathroom. She stopped at the foot of the bed and looked down at me.
“Why did you insist on getting a shower just to put the same nasty goat-shit-covered clothes back on?”
“I don’t have anything else to wear.” She bit her bottom lip.
“You are not getting in this bed wearing those stinky ass clothes. Take them off.”
“No! I’m not getting naked and getting into bed with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. We’re both adults. I’ve seen a naked woman before. Just take off the clothes and get into bed.”
“No! I don’t care if you’ve seen naked women every day of your life. You haven’t seen me, and it’s going to stay that way.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
I took a deep breath. “You know, you could wash the clothes by hand and hang them to dry overnight. Then you’d at least have some clean clothes to put on tomorrow. Drape them on the chair and turn the heat up.”
I saw her start to think about it.
“It would mean having to sleep without them tonight, though.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Fine, but you better not look.”
I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to roll over and go to sleep. I’ll probably be out before you’re even done washing them.” I slid down in the bed and rolled onto my side. I pulled the blankets up and closed my eyes. A moment later, I heard the door to the bathroom shut once again.
As I lay there, trying to fall asleep, I tried to work out a plan for the following day. I needed to get far enough away from the accident so I wouldn’t be suspected. I needed to make it into the city where I could find another car, a car that would be worth just as much, if not more, than the last one. It was the only way I’d be able to make up for the mess I left when she came crashing into my life.
My destination had been Chicago anyway, so I’d stay the course. Eventually, I’d get there. I figured it was far enough across the country that I could start over.
My eyes popped open when I heard the bathroom door a little while later. I didn’t mean to look. I actually meant to keep my word, but when I heard the noise, it was an automatic reaction to open them. They found the mirror that hung above the dresser, where I could clearly see her reflection.
She stood before the wall-mounted rack just outside the bathroom, hanging her clothes to dry. She hung her jeans and shirt, then took off her bra and hung it, too. My eyes raked over the reflection of her in nothing but a pair of panties. I only got a flash of her perfect tits before she covered them with her hands and rushed over to the bed, away from the mirror. But the damage had been done. I’d seen it all, and deep down, I knew I needed more.
Chapter 5
Amelia
It felt strange lying practically naked in bed with a man I didn’t know. I was thankful he was sound asleep, facing the opposite direction.
I lay on my side, facing the wall. I was so close to the edge I feared I might actually fall off the bed, but even that was better than getting closer to him. The butterflies in my stomach had returned, and a throbbing formed between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, hoping to squash the urges that were consuming me—it had been a struggle since he dropped his pants right in front of me, leaving him in nothing but his navy blue boxer briefs. I wish I hadn’t noticed the way his long, wide shaft had the cotton fabric stretching over it, but I had. Things with Alex and me had been strained for a while. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been touched by a man. I understood the way the body and hormones worked, but why did it have to be him? A car thief.
To be fair, I was one too, but I didn’t plan on making it a career.
For once in my life, I was trying to do better for myself. I wanted out of the life of crime I’d been raised in. I didn’t have a bad boy fetish anymore. I wanted a white-collar man who worea suit and went to work in the office every morning, carrying a briefcase and a cup of coffee. I wanted to live in a house with a white picket fence. I wanted to drive a minivan for my small army of kids. And I wanted to spend my days learning new recipes and preparing elaborate meals for my family. I felt an emptiness consume my stomach, and that’s when I realized that I didn’t actually want those things. I wanted to want those things.
I had some things to figure out, but I was finally out of the tiny town I had been forced to live in, and I was away from the guy who should’ve loved me but always hurt me. One step at a time. The plan was to get out, and I was out. I figured I’d just keep moving forward until someplace felt right. That was, if the cops didn’t find me first.
I don’t know how I managed, but I eventually got warm and fell fast asleep. It was a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind that grabbed you before you even knew it and held you captive for several hours until your body started to wake up, piece by piece. I didn’t wake up all at once. I slowly regained feeling in certain areas. I noticed how comfortable and warm I felt, and I didn’t want to wake up. I fought to stay under, but my body was waking even if I didn’t want it to.
I felt my stomach tighten, and the ache between my thighs was back. That’s when I felt something nudge my inner thigh. My eyes opened, but I froze when I realized what was happening. In my sleep, I must have rolled away from the edge. So did Oliver because we were both in the middle of the bed. He was on his back, and I was on my right side with my left leg draped over his lap. His right hand was on my thigh while his left arm was under my neck. My bare chest was against his side, and as much as I hated it, I liked it. God, this man was pure muscle, and his tattoos? Sleeves. Chest. Abdomen. I was sure he drove all the women crazy.
