Page 112 of Floodgates

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to,” I answered, turning.

“And what else?”

“You looked like you needed me.”

“I always need you,” he said as he took my hand, laced his fingers with mine, and held tight.

When he pulled up to a motel, I understood. “I thought you were taking me somewhere romantic,” I teased him.

“This’ll be romantic,” he grumbled at me as he turned to stare into my eyes.

“I thought everything was filled up because of the cheese festival or whatever.”

“Not the by-the-night places.”

I started laughing.

“What?”

“Your idea of romance is a little twisted, Nolan.”

“Do you care?”

“No,” I replied honestly. I unlocked the door and opened it.

He got out fast and came around the car, and when he stepped in front of me, I reached up and slid my arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want this to be over,” he said with a catch in his voice. “I want to go home, and I want you to fall in love with me. I’m frantic for my life to start and terrified that it won’t.”

“It will,” I promised before I drew him close and kissed him.

I thrust my tongue inside his mouth. I was thorough, forceful, all hunger and heat as I tasted him, dragging a ragged moan deep from the man’s chest.

He wanted me. It was there in the way he dug his fingers into my ass, wrapping my legs around his hips, and the way he coiled his arms tight around my back.

“Tracy.” He cried my name as I writhed in his hold.

He was so mine; all I had to do was say the words. No matter what he said, whatever protest he could come up with, the truth was here between us, and it was surrender. I would stop running from him, he would stop hiding from me, and we would truly begin. I couldn’t remember ever wanting anything, or anyone, more.

I was vaguely aware of moving inside from outside, carried and clutched tight to his chest, the jingle of keys and locks clicking beside me before I was put on my feet. When he tried to pull away, I caught his face in my hands and pulled him back down to me. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and opened them on my skin. My knees barely held me up.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you the truth,” he croaked out, unbuttoning his overcoat and then letting me slide it off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I didn’t really see you,” I soothed him, draping the garment over a chair beside the small desk.

“But you do now.”

“I do,” I assured him. I unzipped my jacket and dropped it onto the seat of the same chair.

“Maybe we should talk about––”

“No,” I insisted, chuckling as I toed off my shoes before going to work on my belt. “I don’t wanna talk. Take off your clothes.”

He raised one eyebrow as he stared down at me. “I’m not that easy.”