Saturday morning, the weather didn’t cooperate enough for Riley to want to hike. It was either that, or her excuse of a mild hangover. Trevor wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to question it. It was her weekend and her call.

She’d finished her glass of wine the night before and they’d walked back to the hotel. She looked to be exactly what she said she wanted, relaxed and loose. Nothing more, nothing else.

The shorts she was wearing with a pretty flowing top and high-heeled sandals were nothing that he’d ever expect a dentist to be wearing. Of course, he’d never expected to have a dentist that looked like her, either.

But their walk back to the hotel was calm and almost normal for a dating couple away for the weekend. Holding hands, looking at each other, smiling. Even a little giggle out of her.

When they got back to the room, though, that was a different story.

The minute they were in the door, she shut it behind her, then placed her hands on his chest, ran them around a few times, and reached down to pull his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. “Slow down, Riley.”

“Nope. I want dirty hotel sex. You’ll give it to me, right?”

What the hell? “How dirty?” he asked, not sure what was going on with her. Where did that sweet, relaxed woman holding his hand go?

“Not that. Nothing like really kinky dirty. It’s the room. It’s a hotel room. Other people stayed here before. I’m not sure how clean it is. Dirty. Dirty hotel…sex. Get it.”

“Oh,” he said, trying not to laugh. Her face was priceless. As OCD as she was about germs, he realized it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. It hadn’t come up often, so he was guessing something really had to get under her skin for her to make a comment.

“I had planned on having sex while we’re here. So maybe you’ll get a lot of dirty hotel sex.”

“I can handle it. As long as there is wine involved.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s why you had more to drink? So you could relax and have sex with me.”

“No. I don’t need to relax to have sex with you. It’s just there are so many germs here. The wine relaxes me so that I don’t think about it.”

“You should have told me. I would have tried to find someplace else to stay.”

“I’ve stayed in hotels before. This is a nice one. It’s clean. I know it is. But it’s not really clean. I mean, I wouldn’t want to shine a black light in here.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll be guilty of leaving traces under a black light too when we’re done,” he said.

“Yep. So let’s get you out of those pants. Hurry up,” she said, attacking the button of his jeans.

He toed off his shoes. He was done talking for now. He reached for her shirt and helped her out of it; then they both managed to get the rest of their clothes off fast.

He picked her up and brought her down on top of the bed, but she shrieked and jumped off. “What?” he asked, looking around.

“I’m not getting on the bedspread naked. There isn’t enough wine in the world for that.”

He looked at her standing here, both of them without a stitch of clothing on, and wondered what the heck he was supposed to do next.

She walked over to him and whipped the bedspread off. “Good grief, Trevor. I said the bedspread. Not the sheets. The sheets are clean. They should be, at least. That much I know and that is what I’m rationalizing. The bedspread…no way. Not letting that touch any delicate areas of my body.”

“Can I touch those delicate areas of your body?”

“I expect it.” She pushed him on the bed and climbed on top of him. “After I’ve had my fill, though.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, rolling her again so he was on top. Then he rolled her onto her stomach and pulled her up to her hands and knees.

“What are you doing?” she asked, giggling.

“You said dirty. My mind went in this direction. Let’s make it dirty for us both.”

“How dirty are you talking?” she asked. “Because some things are always off the table.”

“Not that,” he said. “The position. You liked it last time.”

“I did. That’s because you’re big and strong and it makes me feel weak.”

“You aren’t weak in any sense of the word,” he said.

“Well then, it let me bring my inner doggie out.”

“Riley,” he said, fighting back a laugh. “You’re killing the mood.”

She laughed loudly. “Sorry. It just slipped. That’s the wine talking. You can’t have it both ways, you know.”

“I’m going to have it any way I want tonight.”

“Now you’re getting cocky,” she said. “I like that, too.”

She was on her hands and knees right now, her head turned and looking over her shoulder at him, urging him on. “What are you waiting for? It’s right there for the taking.”

She was evil. He climbed off the bed. “Stay there, just like that.”

“What are you doing?” she asked when he grabbed his jeans. “If you take a picture of me…”

“Condom,” he said, holding it up. “No pictures. Ever.”

“Good. That’s another thing that is off limits,” she said.

“Agreed. Now stop talking,” he said, climbing on the bed behind her, grabbing her hips, and easing right in. She’d kept up her smooth routine down there and he loved every bit of it.

“Riley?”

“Hmm,” she said, her head hanging down, low moans coming from her throat.

“You can be weak any time you want.”

“Only if you’re strong.”

“Always,” he said, his hips moving in and out. She was sliding closer to the headboard with each movement until she had to put her hands up on it so her head didn’t bump.

There was a haze filling his brain right now. The two beers he had, the walk here, the dance, their words in the bar, and just now. Everything was colliding at once, making him want to take her with him. Hold her hand and bring her where he was so desperately trying to go.

Instead of her hand, he gripped her hips tighter, moved faster, watched as both of her palms were bracing her on the headboard now. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, panting out.

“No,” she said. “Don’t stop whatever you’re doing. Move faster if you can.”

“I’m moving as fast as I can.” He was hitting the gas, speeding down the road, climbing the mountain as fast as he could, and taking her there with him.

He wasn’t going to crash. He was in complete control because he was at all times. Even when his mind was foggy, even when his heart was bursting, he was in control.

“Trevor,” she said, her voice rising above the ringing in his ears. The bed was squeaking, his knees were going numb and his hands were leaving marks, but nothing was stopping him.

“What?” he asked, through his teeth.

“I love you. Don’t ever leave me.”

For once in his life, he lost control. He pulled out, flipped her over onto her back and came down on top of her, entering her swiftly, his hands holding hers over her head, his eyes drilling into hers.

“Never,” he said. “Tell me that. Tell me you won’t leave me.”

She lifted her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him down closer, almost hugging him now. “Never,” she whispered. “Now finish what you started.”

He did. He had no choice. Emotions were heightened to a completely different level than ever before, both of them moving rapidly, both of them cresting, and both of them tumbling down at the same time.

But he was there to hold her tight. Because he couldn’t let go, even if he wanted to. Even if he was forced to, he’d never let go.

 

***

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with just shopping today?” she asked on Saturday morning. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to plan this weekend for them. To take her hiking, but with rain in the forecast today, she didn’t feel like it.

Not to mention a mild headache from the four glasses of wine she’d consumed last night. It was well worth it in her eyes. She’d never seen Trevor so out of control as last night. She got shivers just thinking of it, and wondered how she could get him there again.

There was no fear seeing him like that last night. Almost possessed, consuming and wanting to consume her. There was only want and need and a survival that took over. That inner voice that told her she could finally let go.

“Whatever you want to do. This is your weekend,” he said.

“I want it to be our weekend, though.”

“It is. I’m just glad to be out of town. Food first, then a plan.”

He looked relaxed to her right now. Not tight and tense. Not stressed. Of course, she didn’t know what he’d look like if he was stressed, because he never seemed to be.

“Trevor,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes questioning hers.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For just being you. For letting me know I can be who I want without worrying.”

“Worrying about what?”

“About everything. I’m just so tired of worrying.”

He pulled her forward. She couldn’t remember ever letting her guard down this much before in her life. It was draining and liberating at the same time. Terrifying.

“There will always be something to worry about in life, Riley. But don’t waste your time worrying about us. If you talk to me, if you open up, then that will help.”

“I’m more open with you than I’ve been with anyone in my life.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”