Nicole

 

The first thing I noticed about L.A. was the traffic. The never ending, one mile an hour, sweltering, angry driver traffic. We had the windows rolled down by this point, giving up on the poor little air conditioner that just couldn’t. It meant the heat was basically wafting in one window and out the other, without bringing much relief with it, but it was better than just sitting there in a room full of used, mostly warm air. At least this was sort of fresh.

 

We’d gotten into the general L.A. area nearly an hour and a half ago and it felt like we hadn’t made any progress at all. Of course, we had, but between the never-ending line of cars and our own exhaustion, we might as well have been walking. We probably would have gotten there faster.

 

Wherever there was.

 

“You do know where we’re going, right?” I asked, more to fill up the space and time it would take to get through this line of traffic than out of any real curiosity. We could be headed to some little Podunk town that didn’t have cell towers for all I cared so long as we got there. Eventually.

 

Maxwell nodded. Despite driving the entire time and with only a few pit stops for bathroom breaks and to get gas, he was in relatively good spirits. I wasn’t really sure what changed given that he’d been a real crank several hours ago, but I was grateful for it. I didn’t think it was my apology, but I suppose it could have been. At least we didn’t have to be miserable and fighting. Thank god for small favors.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“So we’re not just wandering aimlessly?” I teased lightly. I was in better spirits, too. Despite feeling like Maxwell was a real pain in the ass, I generally liked to get along with people and would rather be on good terms with him than bad. Especially since we were stuck together until this whole mess was cleaned up. Oh, and we were legally married. Minor things like that.

 

I blushed as I found myself letting my gaze wander over his well-toned, muscled body. I had indulged in that body not so very long ago and part of me wanted to do that again. Soon. But it still felt weird feeling that way. Sure, marriage gave you a little leeway, but we really didn’t know each other. I knew he was a mechanic, he hated my ex, he had some trouble with a motorcycle gang, and he was dead sexy.

 

Not exactly the foundation to build a lasting marriage on.

 

Still, I wouldn’t mind basing it on wild, hungry sex. At least for a little while.

 

By the time Maxwell caught me staring at him, a blush had all but swallowed my entire body. I must have been as bright as a tomato and I didn’t think he’d believe me if I told him it was the heat causing it, so I didn’t say anything at all.

 

A smooth grin slid across his features, devilish and dangerous, a reminder that there was an undercurrent of wild lying just beneath the handsome surface. I shuddered involuntarily and felt my body react to the promises his eyes made to me. Promises I knew he could keep.

 

“No, not aimlessly,” he finally answered me, still smiling. His eyes raked over my body and I let out a shaky breath. “In fact…we’re headed to a hotel first.”

 

If that didn’t make me hot, I didn’t know what would. It took everything I had not to groan at the thought of what we could do with a nice air-conditioned bedroom. Or maybe not air-conditioned. There was a lot to be said for starting off all hot and sweaty, letting our bodies slide against one another as we found a rhythm that worked. Maybe his hands would slide over my bare skin first, memorizing the curves and the plump parts as he weighed my breasts and cupped my ass. Or maybe he’d tell me to be still and allow his mouth to explore me first.

 

That thought nearly had my eyes rolling back inside my head. Oh, how I wanted him to touch me. And not just touch me, but devour me. I wanted to feel his tongue sliding across my skin, tasting parts of me that no other man had bothered to taste. I wanted kisses between my legs and to feel a hardness nestle itself between my rear cheeks. I wanted to try things I’d never tried before, to get the chance to really test what boundaries I might and might not have. I wanted to be surprised as much as I wanted to surprise myself.

 

And I thought Maxwell could help me with those things. Easily, he could.

 

I swallowed harshly, forcing thoughts of his hard, sculpted body—and his member, bigger and thicker than I’d expected—naked and wanting me aside. “A…a hotel?” I squeaked back, hating how high pitched my voice sounded. I was trying not to salivate over him, but it was hard to keep myself in check when he was looking at me like that.

 

“Yeah, I figured you’d need some rest.” There was a twinkle in his eye letting me know he’d most definitely caught on to the lust swimming through my body. It was probably written across my face, but I was caring less and less. If it got us to the same place in that first hotel, well, I could live with a little smugness on his part, couldn’t I?

 

“Rest?” I repeated, and my voice was low this time, lower than expected and sultry.

 

He laughed at me then, but it was simultaneously deep and soft. “Yes, rest. You haven’t gotten much in the way of real sleep and I know it’s been a long, hard trip.”

 

I closed my eyes briefly, trying not to imagine what else was long and hard. When I opened them again, Maxwell was staring at me with hot, hungry eyes. “What do you mean me?” I asked, still breathy, but working hard to rein in my hormones.

 

For a moment, he didn’t answer me. In fact, he looked away and stayed silent long enough for us to move several feet in traffic, which was saying a lot. When he spoke again, it nearly startled me. “I’m going to meet my guy,” he admitted slowly, choosing his words carefully, making me wonder what he was trying not to say. “I…I don’t think you should be there. It might be a little risky and I’d rather not be responsible for anything else happening to you.”

 

I felt a sobering pang of guilt hit me hard in the gut. So my earlier words had gotten to him. Though I’d felt guilty even at the time I’d said them, I had been determined to use anything and everything to attack him with. Now I wished sincerely I hadn’t.

 

“That really wasn’t your fault, Maxwell,” I said, his name sliding across my tongue like a sweet, sweet silk. “I never should have said that.”

 

He shook his head. “You had every right to. It was my fault and if I could take it back…”

 

He broke off and I felt a little weird about what he hadn’t said. Did he mean if he could take back what had happened in the alley, he would? Or did he mean something else? Did he mean he wished he’d never met me at all?

 

That didn’t sit well with me. Although we were in a lot of trouble, I couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made me glad I was a part of all of this. Well, maybe not the getting shot at, but the other stuff. The letting my guard down a little bit. The trying new things and getting thrown into an adventure. Letting someone else explore my body in enticing, incredible ways.

 

It was hard to regret that, and I didn’t want him to regret that either. Biting my lower lip, I thought about it, then said, “I wouldn’t take it back.”

 

There was a startled silence that filled the cab. Maxwell looked over at me, shock written across his features. For a moment, he didn’t look as though he could say anything at all. He tried for a long moment, but couldn’t seem to find his words. It was a little amusing actually, given how smug and cocky he was most of the time. It was nice to know I’d finally caught him off guard.

 

“Nicole…” he began, but he didn’t seem to know where to take this conversation beyond my name. He looked torn, like he was both desperate to tell me something and desperate to leave things as they were. It made me want to know what he was thinking so hard about, but I let it go and didn’t push. I’d meant what I said and, though things were crazy, I believed that whatever came out of this, I would walk away a better person.

 

At least, I hoped so.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” I continued, doing my best to keep things lighthearted, “I don’t much care for the whole being shot at thing, and I could definitely do without the…” I faltered, unable to say rape out loud, but I didn’t need to. The angry gleam in his eye told me he knew exactly what I was talking about. Hurriedly, I continued, glossing over that. “But it hasn’t been all bad. I get an impromptu vacation in California. I get to see L.A. for the first time—the traffic’s terrible. And…” I was going to say, “And I got married,” but I wasn’t sure what to do with that yet, so I left it out.

 

I may not have regretted meeting Maxwell, but I wasn’t sure yet how I felt about being married to him. That would be an impression that would come with time, and we just hadn’t had enough yet.

 

I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was going to last. Was I?

 

“There are things you don’t know about me, Nicole,” Maxwell said finally, his tone soft but serious.

 

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” I said in response, still keeping my tone light and a little teasing. “You may not know this, but secretly I like to binge on Netflix until two in the morning on weeknights. I know, I live on the edge.”

 

My sort of joke worked and earned me the desired result: a smile on Maxwell’s full lips. He didn’t quite laugh, but I could see it was with effort. He did, however, relax and nod his head.

 

“We’ve got some time to learn about each other,” I told him, wondering just how much time that really was. Things felt both like they were moving incredibly fast and incredibly slowly.

 

“A little bit, anyway,” he murmured. His eyes went to me, searching my face—and my body, because I didn’t think he could help it—before adding, “I hope more than I anticipate.”

 

I offered him a smile. “I do, too. Maybe after we clear all this up we could…” I wasn’t sure what I was saying, but I thought it was about pursuing whatever this was between us to see where it might go. I wasn’t stupid. Relationships couldn’t be based on intense situations and hope they worked out in the end, because love. That only happened in the movies, and the reason it lasted was because there was never a sequel. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t work out a relationship after the fact if you found you both had enough in common…right?

 

I didn’t know, but the longer we spent together, the more I wanted to try it out. Can’t be worse than Ben, I found myself thinking.

 

“Dinner, maybe?” Maxwell filled in for me, his lips tugging at a smile. It was cocky once more, but I didn’t mind. Dinner sounded perfect. “Maybe a movie? Dancing? Moonlit skinny dipping?”

 

I laughed out loud at that last one and slapped him playfully in the arm, even as I secretly thought, I think I might try just about anything if you were doing it naked.

 

***

 

We did just as Maxwell said we would. Most of the day was over and night was crashing onto us pretty quickly when we finally made it far enough through traffic to reach our exit. I was exhausted and more relieved than I thought possible when we pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. The place wasn’t as seedy as the last, though it definitely wasn’t the Ritz. Still, it looked like it was a decent motel and even had a pool. I didn’t know if we’d be there long enough to take a dip and I knew I hadn’t packed my bathing suit, but it would be nice if we got some free time to laze about.

 

I let Maxwell check in and stayed in the car as it idled. There were palm trees lined in perfect rows outside of the stucco buildings that peachy color you see in the Southwest, reminding me of the perkier parts of Arizona. The lot wasn’t full, but it wasn’t far from it either. I saw that there were mostly couples or groups of friends milling about the parking lot, but I did see a few families. I guessed this wasn’t close enough to a real touristy place to have very many family vacationers staying here.

 

Guess that means we’re not that close to the beach, I thought, mildly disappointed. Still, my spirits were up when Maxwell came back to the car with two of those room keys that were cards with magnetic strips. They had palm trees on them to match the outside scenery, but these were in several shades of neon colors: pink, purple, blue, and greenish-blue. Pretty, but a little…tacky.

 

“Room 305,” Maxwell told me easily, putting the car in drive and pulling around to the side of the building where there was a little more parking. “Let’s get settled and you can find something to order in—I think they have room service, but you can call for takeout instead.”

 

I smiled at him. This almost felt like a date—or a real vacation—instead of us acting like a couple of fugitives as we ran from some very scary people. It was a nice shift.

 

“Are you going to stay and eat with me?”

 

He thought about it a second, debating with himself. Finally, he shook his head and I was a little disappointed. “No. I’d like to, really, but there isn’t enough time. If I want to get to my guy today, I need to leave now. God knows how long it’ll take me to get there with this traffic.”

 

I frowned. “We aren’t far, are we?”

 

“A little. I wanted to put some space between us just to make sure no one tracked us back here, but I wanted to be close enough that there was a reasonable chance I’d make it through traffic sometime tonight.” He cracked a lopsided smile that was as devilishly charming as he’d been that first night we’d met at the bar. “It also means maybe I’ll get back to the hotel with a little time to spare.” He sent me a wink and I shivered.

 

I certainly hope so.

 

“You’ll be careful, right?” I asked, suddenly nervous he wouldn’t come back at all, that something terrible was going to happen to him. We made it up the steps and I slid my keycard into the slot and jerked it out quickly, watching it turn to green. But before I could open the door, a strong hand grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around. Maxwell closed the distance between us, forcing me back, and then he was kissing me. His body pressed tightly against mine, my back was squeezed tightly by the firm door behind me. He felt too hot, burning from the inside out, and his hands felt large as they found my hips and waist. They held me in place tightly, our hips pressed together until I could feel something hard growing beneath his jeans.

 

My hands planted themselves on his waist, because there wasn’t room anywhere else. I felt my fingers loop themselves into his buckle loops, tugging him closer, as if he could get any closer.

 

I groaned into the kiss, his tongue taking the opportunity to snake into my mouth and explore. He tasted like sweet soda and the minty gum we’d gotten at the last gas station. There was a little bit of scruff growing along his strong jaw and the stubble rubbed against my skin, probably leaving a slight rash from it.

 

I didn’t care.

 

In fact, I didn’t care about anything but him swallowing my breaths, holding me tightly against him. I wanted the door to open so we could tumble inside. I wanted to fumble with his jeans and his shirt until we were naked, then fall onto the bed. I wanted to writhe in ecstasy until I called out his name. I wanted to hear him groan in the midst of his release.

 

These desires were visceral and, in that moment, all consuming. I wasn’t thinking about anything but him and me in the throes of passion.

 

Which was why it felt like falling when he finally broke the kiss, pulling away from me so quickly that I suddenly felt cold, despite the heat of the California day. Trying in vain to catch my breath, I worked hard to focus my lust addled eyes on Maxwell. It was difficult, and the only reason I could was because I felt him moving farther away.

 

I reached out for him, my hand just barely grazing his arm. “Stay?” I asked him.

 

He shook his head. “I’ve got to do this. We can’t run forever.”

 

I knew he was right, but it didn’t change that I wanted him. To stay. To do things to me. All of it. I just wanted him.

 

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.” With that vow, he kissed me once more, hard, but fast on the lips. Then he turned and walked away. It felt startlingly like goodbye. I stood there outside the door, watching him go, until the car pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the busy streets. When he was completely out of view, I finally went inside.

 

***

 

The first thing I did when I got into the room was strip. I piled my clothes on the floor and turned on the water to hot until the little bathroom was steaming. Then I slipped under the spray. It was a special little slice of heaven, that shower was. I even groaned a little in ecstasy as the water washed away the grime of basically living in that damn car for so long.

 

I took my time, partially because I knew there would be quite a bit of waiting involved once I got out and partially because I could and I felt really dirty. There were little shampoo and conditioner bottles in the shower, too, and they smelled pretty decent. I had to use all the shampoo to wash out my long, thick hair and all the conditioner after that, but it was worth it. I made a mental note to go down to the front desk and ask for more bottles after my shower.

 

Just in case Maxwell wants to wash his hair, too.

 

And that got me hot and bothered all over again. It was a lovely thought to imagine him here with me under the spray, his naked body glistening with hot water as it splashed down over his muscled form. And the thought of washing his shaggy blond hair was strangely erotic. I found myself wishing I could do it for him. I wanted to drag my fingers through his long hair, my nails scraping along the scalp just a little bit.

 

Plus, being naked and in the shower with Maxwell sounded like an excellent idea in general. We could finish what we started outside before he left.

 

My thoughts were enough to cause my own hand to snake down between my legs. I found myself wet–and not from the shower water, either. Sucking my lower lip into my mouth, I worried at it with my teeth as I slowly inserted my fingers into my warm body. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but given the circumstances it would have to do.

 

I plunged my own fingers in and out several times and used my other hand to fondle a breast, pinching at the erected nipple. I let my eyes close, thinking of how Maxwell could be standing right behind me doing these things, thinking of how I might feel his long member nestled between my cheeks, rubbing slightly to let me know how hard he was.

 

It was a nice thought and I let my thumb slide up to the small bundle of nerves above my opening. As soon as I touched it I let out a low groan of pleasure.

 

This is what I need.

 

I continued to touch myself until I found release, grateful I could just wash the mess away in the shower without any clean up. I was too exhausted for cleanup.

 

After another ten or so minutes in the shower, I finally stepped out. I was a little pruney, but I felt so much better. And cleaner. And relaxed. It was a good feeling. After drying off, I went over to the little menu book that came with the room. It listed several options for both room service and restaurants in the area that would deliver. I decided on something simple but greasy and satisfying.

 

“Pizza it is,” I murmured, then went to my bag to dig for my phone. It was when I started digging into the pockets that I froze. “Damnit.” I’d forgotten that I hadn’t found my phone. There was a phone in the room, so I used that to order something to eat, but that didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t remember where my phone was.

 

I spent the entire time it took for the pizza to get there looking for it, but I didn’t find it. When the delivery guy dropped off the food, I paid him and tipped generously. When he left, I sat down with a slice and devoured it quickly.

 

When I’d satisfied that need, too, I started to think about where I’d left my phone. I had been getting texts from Ben, which was why it had been out. I’d looked at them to keep my phone from continuing to notify me that I had gotten a new message. And to make sure that it hadn’t been from someone important, like my boss. I told her I needed a little time, some personal stuff, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to get ahold of me. Before I could put my phone up, I’d gotten into an argument with Maxwell.

 

He’d been so pissed off about the messages. “Like it’s any of his business,” I muttered to myself. I’d accepted that I’d been a bit of a jerk to him about the whole it’s your fault thing, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been overbearing when he’d insisted I block Ben’s number. Apparently I was still a little sore about it. “Like he has any right to control what I do.”

 

And that niggling little thought was what got the ball rolling.

 

We’d been fighting over the texts. And then we’d been fighting over everything under the sun. Maxwell insisted I block the number without even considering why I hadn’t blocked it yet. Or that maybe I was going to block it and just hadn’t done it yet. He just started barking out orders like some drill sergeant, not caring that I was a person with my own thoughts and opinions.

 

The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. I’d tried to let it go, especially since we were going to be spending so much time together, but the more I let myself go over the conversation, the more I felt like I’d been in the right.

 

Which meant Maxwell should have apologized.

 

“Ugh!” I pushed back from the desk where I’d had my pizza and began to pace. The serenity I’d found in the shower and the satisfaction I’d gotten from the food seemed to dissolve. Now I was left with the sense that I’d been duped. How had I become the one to apologize anyway? “That’s just like a man!” I said aloud to the empty room.

 

As I continued to fume over how he’d just ordered me to do that, like it was his call the entire time and I was just some stupid little girl, I couldn’t help but think about my phone again.

 

How it had been on the seat.

 

How Maxwell had been so pissed off about it.

 

How, after that fight, I hadn’t been able to find it.

 

I froze. “He wouldn’t…” I said, but as I let that incomplete sentence fill up the space in the room, I wondered how true that was.

 

There are things you don’t know about me. I had thought he meant other things, like a troubling past or a crazy ex-girlfriend or some kid somewhere that he timeshared with some floosy he knocked up. Normal things. Not necessarily great things, but things you could work with.

 

But what if he’d meant something else? What if he’d meant, You weren’t listening to me like a good little girl so I forced your hand. I stole your phone and hid it, or got rid of it altogether and now you have to go through me if you want to make any decisions!

 

What if he’d meant he was just as controlling as Ben had been?

 

The thought sent a shudder through me. Suddenly, the room felt chilly, like I had the air conditioning turned on too low, except a moment ago I’d thought it felt great. Not too long ago, I thought everything felt great. Now I was beginning to think I’d gotten myself into a lot more trouble than I had initially thought.

 

The thoughts came unbidden and were all the more frightening because they made sense. I didn’t know anything about this guy, but my instincts initially had been that he was trouble. Just because he was good in the sack didn’t mean those instincts had been wrong by any stretch. He could be just as angry and controlling and obsessive as Ben.

 

I shuddered again.

 

Hadn’t he been possessive that first night at the bar? And hadn’t he come back, all but stalking me at work when I hadn’t even given him my name, much less my address? Hadn’t he insisted I take his number, unwilling to leave until I had? Hadn’t he insisted I pack and leave with him without even telling me where we were going? Hadn’t he convinced me to marry him without even talking to me about it first?

 

All signs were pointing to the same thing and I felt a burning sense of fear, embarrassment, and maybe a little shame at the thought that I had once again ignored all of them.

 

“What have I done?” I wondered aloud.

 

Shoving down fear to replace it with anger, because anger was better and felt more powerful and less helpless, I got dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I had my sweatshirt out, too, slung over my bag, though I doubted I would need it. I made sure I dressed conservatively. No blouses or skirts or anything else that might give him the chance to have his way with my body again. Then I made sure my stuff was packed and ready to go. I needed to be able to make a quick, clean getaway when the time came. And I had a sinking suspicion it was going to come a lot sooner than I had anticipated.

 

Finally, when I felt like everything was picked up and ready to go, I forced myself to eat another slice of pizza for fortification; I wasn’t running on an empty stomach. When I was done I brushed my teeth again and then packed that up, too. Finally, when I’d done everything I could think of, I took a seat on the edge of the bed. Perched lightly, energy and anger thrumming through me, I waited. My eyes fixed steely on the door, waiting for it to open, for Maxwell to walk in and realize I wasn’t just some stupid girl, that I wasn’t someone he could control or manipulate.

 

Damnit, I would be my own person if it killed me.