CHAPTER FOUR
DANE
I wake up sleepless and groggy, the storm having blasted through the night.
My pillow was more like a sack of dirt, the sheets cheap and prickly. This place is a total shithole.
I stand and walk over to the window, which continues to rattle with the wind outside. Make that an icy shithole, I correct.
I start the shower and step in, placing one hand against the wall and the other around my cock.
She’s there when I close my eyes—Haley the motel maid in all her naïve, never-had-an-orgasm perfection. She never admitted as much, of course, but I know that response. Her previous relationships were probably with Bob the one-eyed mechanic or Tony behind the bleachers. She’s probably never had a real man in her life to show her how it’s done. These pencil-dicked pricks around here wouldn’t know a real pussy if it slapped them in the face.
I smile as I jerk myself off, smile at the way she bent and bowed at my touch, pale cheeks flushed and heavy. God, I wanted to fuck her.
It was fun getting her off, sure, a distraction, but then she rushed out before the party really started.
It figures. I have no doubt she’s one of these typical prudish, small-town types who’ve been brought up thinking sex is dirty, that pleasure should only be a man’s. She’s probably as sweet as they come, always trying to do the right thing, looking both ways before she crosses the street. She’s the first to volunteer for anything and the first to get fucked over. Yes, I know the type alright. Almost too well…
I stiffen and come quicker than I imagined with a picture of her in my head, holding my cock as it continues to cough and jerk against the streaming water.
Pity, I think. She might have been a screamer.
I dry myself off looking out the window again, but in the time I’ve been in the shower the storm’s really coming down hard. I can barely see anything out there except for infinite white.
Well, shit.
I don’t have a coat for this kind of weather, forced to pull my leather jacket tight around myself as I step out into what basically amounts to a blizzard.
Struggling against the snow and wind, eyes straining to make out the sidewalk, I’m reminded yet again how much I fucking hate these backwater towns.
My thoughts turn to Haley Walker again. This is a small town, I realize. I might bump into her out here. There’s probably enough time for a quickie, one for the road, so to speak, but I don’t find her. I can barely find the ground.
Fuck it, I tell myself. There’ll be another girl in the next place. There always is.
It’s a hard slog to the bus station, but I make it just as the man I bought my ticket from yesterday attaches something to the booth window.
He squints to make me out. “Oh, how you doin’?”
I’m cold, basically soaked through and in desperate need of a fresh fuck, but I nod in turn and mutter, “Fine.”
I see he’s put up a notice. I walk forward to read it, my heart sinking as I take in the words.
I turn to the man. “The bus station’s closed?”
He nods his head gravely. “’Fraid so. Real bitch of a storm last night, iced out the roads all the way to Conner County.” He looks past me. “Seems like she’s still blowing through, too. Nothing’s getting in or out of here for a while.”
It sinks in.
I’m stuck here.
I’m stuck in this shithole.
It’s like a god-damn nightmare. What next? A zombie apocalypse? My dick falls off?
Given the cold, it soon might.
It needs somewhere warm to park itself—stat.
“Sorry to say it, son,” the man continues, sensing my disappointment, “but there won’t be any buses through until the ice has cleared.” He taps the notice. “You can call this number to reschedule your tickets.”
“Fuck,” I whisper out, turning to pace back through the snow and sleet in the direction, I hope, of the infamous Merit Motor Inn and its shiny two stars.
I cuss and grumble my way back, my stomach starting to protest. I can’t imagine Merit, USA is known for its Michelin stars, but right now I don’t really care. I just want some fucking food.
Safely back in my motel room, I peel my jacket off, huffing by the bed.
And that’s when the power goes off.
Poof.
Nada.
Gone.
I’m surprised how dark it is, only the snowstorm outside providing illumination.
I run my hand through my hair. As if this could get any worse.
It’s like some higher power is trying to punish me. For what? For being too good? For being the best?
Fuck that. I answer to one person and one person alone.
Myself.
I wait fifteen minutes until I can’t take it anymore. “Fuck this,” I stammer, grabbing my jacket and heading out again.
I make my way down to the manager’s office, but it seems I’m not the only one with this idea.
Other guests stand limp-faced around the reception desk, the manager standing—yes, standing now—among them with his hands raised, gesticulating wildly.
I come in, a few curious looks thrown my way. The manager catches my eye and pulls in a deep breath, taking a step back so he can address everyone.
“Look, folks,” he says. “You’ve got my apologies. You really do, but there ain’t much I can do about this. The power company’s looking at it, but with the storm and all… It could be down for a while.”
A spattering of murmurs and general gloom.
The manager scratches his head as if trying to will an answer to emerge. “Those electric company boys, they can’t work when the snow’s coming down like this. They’ve got to get chains on the tires, approval, but rest assured they’re going to be working as fast as they can.”
“What are we going to do?” asks one of the quests, an elderly woman with garish pink hair rollers in. “We’ll freeze!”
The manager nods, his hands still raised in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. It’s going to get cold, real cold, which is why I’m reaching out to the locals to find open rooms.”
Open rooms? What the hell does that mean? I wonder. He expects us to stay in their homes? Here in town?
Jesus.
“For those not familiar, these ice storms can get pretty bad up here, so I don’t recommend leaving town, not that you could,” he adds.
Nonetheless, a couple of guests seem intent on getting out of here with their own vehicles, bucking the trend.
Sadly, I don’t have that option.
I step up to the manager and lower my voice. “Come on. Honestly, you think this is necessary?”
He faces away from the others to talk to me. “We had a similar storm here a few years back. It cut the power for weeks. But trust me, folks around here will come through just like they did then. They always come together when it counts. This ain’t the city.”
You’re damn right about that, I want to reply.
He claps me on the shoulder. “You’ll be just fine, just fine, and hey, at least you won’t have to sleep on some stiff motel mattress, right?” he chuckles.
I paste on a smile, doing my best to remain upbeat. “Joy.”