Chapter Nine
“We are not staying in South Dakota for four days.” Jaime’s whisper had the passion of a scream and she punctuated her tirade by shoving him squarely in the back.
Xavier continued to ignore her rant and climb the stairs in the remodeled flophouse. According to the package he’d signed them up for, they’d be staying in a suite crafted from five flop rooms used by miners, complete with period décor. The lobby, doubling as an antique mercantile, had been perfect Old West, so he was eager to get to their room and see what they’d envisioned for the Mayor’s Suite.
“We’re only halfway across the country. We cannot stew here forever.” Her voice rose into the audible region as they climbed the second flight.
“It’s a package deal, J’aime. Four days lodging and unlimited attractions.” He reached the landing and turned to watch her dark ponytail sway while she climbed the final few steps. He forced a stern look on his face to keep from smiling at how flustered she’d been when she found out what he’d booked. “You could try to be gracious about it.”
“I’ve got a deal for you. I’ll be gracious if you’ll be reasonable.”
“I don’t make out well in your deals.” He turned and pushed the antique key into the lock.
“This place is giving me a serious case of déjà vu.”
“Relax, there are no ghosts. We both asked. If you want to spend the night in my bed you’ll have to think up a new excuse.”
He pushed the heavy door open and felt his cheeks lift in a smile as he stepped back in time. From the vintage photographs on the walls to the wide-plank wood floor, the owners had spared no detail in creating the perfect image of the life of a very affluent Old West official. The suite wasn’t large, but every inch had been employed to create the effect.
A long bar hugged one wall, polished to a gleaming shine with two burnished barstools beneath. An ornate wooden accent table sat between two leather-upholstered wingbacks. But the bed had been what called him to this particular suite. A king-sized round mattress with custom upholstery. It made him want to scour the town for burlesque lingerie so he could talk Jaime into completing the feel of decadent opulence.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jaime dropped her bag to the floor and slipped past the bedroom to a narrow bathroom and back again. “There is only one bed.”
“We only used one last night.” He stepped to the wall to get a better look at the elaborate stained-glass window. “And the night before that.”
“Other worldly influences caused the first incident, and you were being nice and rational last night. Today, you’re anchoring our forward motion in South Dakota of all places.” She put her hands on her round hips, pulling the material of her buttery cotton sundress tighter across her breasts. “We don’t have to stop here at all. We could head to Mt. Rushmore right now and have an hour of exploring before sunset. I don’t mind driving to Yellowstone tonight.”
“J’aime, you need to slow down. You’re not ready to go back to Oregon.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
He shrugged. “You have the means to get home on your own at any time. You don’t want to. I don’t want you to. So why bother going until you know why you’re going back there.”
“Listen Mr. Introspective. Don’t start psychoanalyzing me unless you’d like the same treatment. There’s buckets I could say about a man whose attention span changes faster than the numbers on a stopwatch. You’re avoiding going to this wedding as much as I’m trying to get to it.”
He leveled his gaze at her. “That is ridiculous. I flew across an ocean to get to Trent’s wedding. I’ll be there in plenty of time. You’re the one looking for any excuse not to have to spend the summer prepping your sister’s wedding.”
“I am not! It’s not my fault my car was stolen.”
“J’aime, you worked summer school instead of heading back. And we both know that if you truly wanted to be there, you’d have made it happen. So stop being so disagreeable and decide what we do next.” He slid his bag to the floor and set the folder with their passes and information on the attractions on the bar. “I’m up for anything.”
“Oh, I just bet you are.” She gave a promising smile, but it froze on her face. “For the record, I’m not disagreeable. I just don’t agree with you. Sightseeing along the way is a road trip. Stopping and buying package deals is a vacation.”
He shrugged again. “Perhaps we are having a language problem.”
Jaime groaned and looked at the ceiling. “I swear, you’re giving me a brain cramp.”
He knit his brows. “Okay, we’re definitely having a language problem.”
Her eyes narrowed as she stepped toward him. “Don’t give me that garbage. You speak English as well as I do. And you know we’re heading to Oregon. I don’t know what you think you’re going to gain out of stranding us in South Dakota. If you wanted a four-day sex-fest, you should have headed for a spa. Hiking around a dusty ghost town does not make me horny.”
“You’ve just never hiked around with me.” He stepped close, expecting her to back up, but she held her ground as only a whisper of space separated their bodies. “Whenever you try something new with me, you like it.”
“I didn’t like the haunted hotel and I didn’t like getting a speeding ticket and I guarantee I won’t like being stuck here for four days. This hotel is a museum. There’s so much memorabilia downstairs I was afraid of knocking over something valuable.” She let out a sigh and stepped away, then sank onto the burgundy velvet-covered bed. “If this was black satin it would belong in the Playboy mansion.”
He let out a bawdy laugh because he’d been thinking the same thing. “There’s too much to see in one day. Wild horses, gold mines, mammoth fossils, sex museum, Rushmore cave, Mt. Rushmore and the Crazy Horse monument. Which reminds me, we need to get moving.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
“Excuse me, sex museum?”
“In a former brothel, but don’t get too excited. I’m going to make you wait for it.”
…
Haunting music surrounded them as the laser-light show animated Native American history in a series of moving cave paintings along the side of the Crazy Horse monument. Before the sun had set, they’d seen the enormous sculpture-in-progress of the famous Lakota chief, his head and chest emerging from the scarred rock. The sunset had painted his features, and the visitor’s center had highlighted the history, proudly displaying a model of what the sculpture would look like when finished.
Xavier wrapped an arm around her, his warm hand rubbing her shoulder through her thin cardigan. The cedar tones of his cologne mixed with the sweet scent of the Ponderosa forest surrounding the monument.
The experience had been so fascinating she wanted to apologize for trying to get out of it. But as much as she’d enjoyed this appealing escape from reality, she knew she couldn’t justify a four-day vacation, especially since they were still days away from home.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and wished she could simply enjoy what he offered. But she had to find a way to get back to her addressless, relationship-free, career-stalled reality.
It sucked to be an adult.
…
“I want to take your picture.”
Jaime froze, her hand clenching the hairbrush halfway through her dark hair. She cleared her throat and decided playing dumb might shy him off this naughty train of thought.
“You’ve taken plenty of pictures of me. I hope you plan on deleting most of them since you have a knack for snapping them when I’m not looking.”
“I want a picture of you on that bed.” The desire in his voice had her considering it.
Jaime set the brush on the small vanity and turned to face him. The mental picture of his tanned skin, defined, bare chest and tented black boxers would outlast any print. She shook her head slowly. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I can’t.”
He took a step closer. “You can.”
She held up her hand. “You don’t understand. I am a teacher. I have to live to a higher moral standard than most people because I’m an example to kids. A boudoir shot of me hits the internet, and I lose my job. Anything more risqué, and I’ll never teach again.”
His brows knit together. “It’s for me, not public viewing. I want something to look at while I talk you into phone sex.” He gave a you-know-you-want-to grin and reached for her hand. His warm fingers tangled with hers.
“It’s not that I think a picture would find its way into the wrong hands on purpose, but things happen. And if you never take the risk, you never take the fall.” She released his hand and turned back to the vanity, adjusting the spaghetti straps of her red tank top and then tugging the hem to meet the waistband of her cherry-print boy shorts. The best thing about Xavier’s South Dakota detour was the laundry service the hotel provided. By tomorrow morning, she’d have clean wardrobe choices again.
“What about if I don’t catch your face?”
Tucking her hair behind her ears, she turned to face him. “You’re kind of obsessing about this.”
“You have no idea.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, his hard cock pressing into her soft belly. “At first I wanted you draped across the bed in lingerie from the sex museum, and then I turned down the bed and found satin sheets. Your curves adorned in satin? It’s made me hard for the last half hour.”
His words gave her a rush of raw sensual power. She wasn’t about to do it, but damn he made it sound good. He moved her hair off her shoulder and placed a soft kiss there. Tingling at his touch, she tilted her head as he trailed kisses from her shoulder to her ear and back down.
Her nipples pulled tight and hard, so she pressed her breasts to his chest to ease the ache. She relaxed, amazed at how easy it was to be with him. He made her comfortable and excited and exasperated all at once. And God help her, she liked it.
She liked the way his hands skimmed her sides, her skin growing more sensitive with each pass. Being with him was uncomplicated and complex, effortless and demanding, a whirl of mental sparring, physical pleasure and an emotional salve holding the whole intricate situation together.
“I want you.” His hot breath and husky tone hit her like a shot of tequila. Inhibitions melted, sensations heightened and she reached her hand for the back of his head to pull his lips to hers.
She kissed him to say she wanted him too, to say thank you for pushing her into this circus of experiences and sensations. A collection of once-in-a-lifetime moments she wouldn’t need snapshots to remember.
As his mouth played hers, tasting and licking and making her feel as if all the other men who’d kissed her hadn’t done it properly, she slid her free hand around and grabbed his ass like a bridesmaid at a bachelorette party.
He framed her face with his hands and pulled back. The intensity in his dark eyes felt heady and hypnotizing. “Say yes.”
“Yes to the bed, now.”
“I want to take your picture on the bed, in the morning. I need it.”
“For what?” She cupped his ass in both hands, pressing him to her. Soon he’d be too distracted to keep up this dangerous notion, or she’d be too needy to think straight.
“I don’t know. I just need it, like I need you now.” His mouth was back on hers before she could deny him. He tugged her hands free, and then it was his hands on her bottom, lifting her up and onto him so her legs went around his waist, her arms around his neck and her core against his hard cock.
He walked them the few steps to the bed. Jaime was glad the room was small. Each step moved his cock against her, heightening her pleasure. If it had been a long walk, she’d have climaxed just from friction.
He set her bottom on the edge of the bed, moved his hands to the hem of her tank top and lifted it over her head. When she’d dressed for bed, having sex with Xavier had been a maybe, but he’d raced past her maybe, okay, yes, and please, straight to her pushing off her boy shorts and a voice she barely recognized saying, “Now, or I’ll take you myself.”
He shucked his boxers, his thick cock bobbing with the motion. A wave of sexual urgency broke over her and she reached for him, wrapped her hand around his cock and gently tugged him forward. He hissed out a breath and the image of her hand wrapped round him seared in her mind. Really, who needed pictures?
“Condom.” Desperation made her voice low and thick. Her body screamed for release, the wetness between her legs seeping onto her thighs. She knelt on the bed, the black satin sheets smooth against her skin as he protected them.
Jaime wondered if it was possible to be high on lust, on power, on the promise of pleasure. Certainly she wouldn’t normally grab a naked man by the shoulders and push him onto her bed. Only a woman out of her mind would barely give the man a moment to scoot to the center before she climbed astride him and slipped her wet pussy against his sheathed cock.
She’d never been so brazen, so bold and daring. She’d always tried to be a thoughtful lover, but right now she couldn’t be bothered to care about what he wanted. According to his cock, it was her.
And she wanted him. She wanted to sink onto him in one motion. She held back nothing as she raised her hips and positioned him at her entrance. She swirled the tip of his cock slowly around her clit until her legs began to shake, and then she slipped him inside, moaning as she lowered herself.