Or, at least, shethoughtit was coffee.
She was about to say,You know I don’t really like it, when she realized it was somehow still-scalding-hot tea. She had to stop herself asking where he had even gotten such a thing, just in case the answer wasI fought my way through the zombie hordes for it, just for you.Instead of the far more normalI stopped by the hotel’s coffee bar while you were in the bathroom. Though, either way, she deliberately got out of the truck, just so he couldn’t do anything like it again.
Any more of this, and she was going to start responding like it was real.
And she wasn’t really sure what a response to realness was going to look like.
It seemed as if it should just be softness in return. Or maybe an abrupt embrace, like she’d turned into some sort of human-shaped face hugger. But somehow it didn’t feel as if it was going to be. It felt raw and roasting hot, in a way she usually reserved for actually exciting things.
A sexy movie. A man she wanted.
One of his books. Oh god, she really didn’t want to think about his books now. Specifically the one that made it extremely clear that he knew how to make a woman very happy, in a very particular way. But she found herself looking for it on her phone, all the same. Reading over it, feverishly, instead of doing anything sensible, like figuring how to get out of this.
It was not yet dawn when he came to her. Sleepless, wild-eyed.
She knew what he wanted. Or rather, she thought she did. But damn, if he didn’t up and surprise her. He was on his knees before she could reach up to him, his body already half between her legs, hands on her thighs, urging them apart.He wouldn’t,she thought,he couldn’t, he wasn’t that kind of man.
He kept things plain, he offered little.
His mouth was on her before she’d even finished the thought. Fast and brutal at first, same way he was about everything. But then he seemed to slow. He pulled her close with those rough, unpleasant hands. And it was different, somehow. Frustrating, it seemed to her. She twisted on the bed, not wanting to ask for more but her body seeking it all the same.
It didn’t matter though.
He knew it anyway.
He did what it took, deepening that kiss between her legs, pushing himself into what almost seemed like lust. As if he had become someone else the moment he saw her again. All those years of denial had made him too desperate to do anything but. His restraint was gone.
This was what was left.
The rock of his mouth, his hands pressing her close, always keeping that contact exactly where it needed to be. She pushed toward him, he obeyed. She squirmed away, he listened. Sometime into whatever this was, it almost seemed that he understood before her body even told him.
He knew not to be too direct.
Just enough that it made her melt, and sigh. Her name on his lips in a way she had never let happen before:Calumn, Calumn, she said, for this fleeting moment sure that it was safe to. He wasn’t cold and austere and unworthy here. He was heated, passionate; she fumbled for his hand and he took it.
He didn’t flinch.
She wondered, suddenly, if he ever would again.
And after she was done, she thought of the first impression the scene had given her, when she’d inhaled the book years ago.Yeah, but you would never do any of that, really, she had thought. Now she saw him in the thin light from the truck, poring over a map he’d gotten out, those glasses on the gorgeous slant of his nose, and all she could think was:
Oh, I bet you always do.
As if he really were a different person to her now.
And not just pretending to be.He’s just faking it, shetold herself.He’s not really anything you should ever want. Then he suddenly looked up from the map, like he knew she was staring at him, and he caught her gaze. He held it, in a way that made her heart start hammering.
It hammered harder, though, when he got out of the truck.
When he strode over to her, like he had business to attend to.
Don’t, she thought. But of course he didn’t. Of course not. He just wanted to talk about deranged plans that were going to make everything so much worse. “Bad news is, I have no clue how to get back to the road and even less idea how to do it in the dark. Good news is, we can settle here for the night just fine,” he said, and all she could think when he did wasOh, dear god, all night next to him in that truck.
But she couldn’t let it show. She shrugged instead. Then turned back the way she’d come, like it was nothing. Only to hear him call after her in this baffled sort of way. “Where you going?”
“To the truck.”
“You can’t sleep in there. Heat won’t last all night without draining the gas tank, and the cold gets into the cab like nothing else. It’ll be frostbite time by threeAM, no, no, no. Come on, get back here.”
