by BETH KERY
“The military taught me almost as much about makeup as a special effects internship I did for a couple years in college. Maybe more.”
She wanted to ask him about some of his assignments but figured perhaps they were confidential, so she refrained. The mood in the vehicle had segued from tension-filled to mellow, and she didn’t want to ruin it.
“It’s certainly a beautiful place to call home,” she said, gazing out her window onto the dome of stars.
“Yeah. But ever since my mom passed, it doesn’t feel as much like home to me.”
“She was the artist.”
Gia blinked. Somehow, her words sounded more significant than she had meant them to be. She had meant it generally, but also specifically. Seth’s mother was the artist of Gia’s sculpture. Seth didn’t respond immediately. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Do you still have it?” he asked after a moment, his casualness sounding a little forced.
Her heart leapt at his quiet question. She didn’t need to ask him what he meant. Somehow, they both had been thinking about her favorite sculpture that had bizarrely been modeled after Seth himself.
“Yes,” she replied in a hushed tone. She felt too vulnerable to tell him it still sat in a prime space on her mantel. “I thought about getting rid of it after that night.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, his profile rigid, his gaze never wavering off the road.
“Your mother’s sculpture didn’t do anything to me.”
She’d said it matter-of-factly, but realized he might have thought she was being petulant. She shifted in her seat again restlessly, scratching under the wig.
“Is it starting to bug you?” he asked her, noticing her scratching.
She nodded.
He swiftly checked behind them, but the empty road disappeared into the blackness of a desert night. He pulled over to the side of the road and put on the hazards.
“We can take it off for now. Do you want me to take off the cap too?” he asked, leaning toward her and peeling off the wig. She heaved a sigh of relief. He placed the wig carefully in the backseat.
“No,” she said, touching the brown skullcap that closely bound her hair to her head. “It’s not bothering me. It’s the hair that was hot and scratchy. The binder is uncomfortable though. Can I take it off?” she asked, waving at her torso.
“You don’t want to go inside somewhere and eat soon?”
“I’m not that hungry,” she said honestly. “But maybe you are? You only had a salad at lunch.”
He shook his head. “We’ll stop somewhere in a couple hours and get a snack for the road. I’d just as soon get there as quickly as possible.”
She nodded in agreement. He didn’t move.
“Do you want help?” he asked, nodding at her bound torso.
“No, I can do it,” she said, glad the dim dashboard lights were the only source of light in the vehicle. Heat had rushed into her cheeks when she recalled that, while she might be able to get the zipper down on the stiff garment, getting it back up would require Seth’s help. She probably shouldn’t loosen the binder in order to prevent that agitating scenario again, but it was so uncomfortable.
“Do you want me to drive?” she asked as he shifted the SUV out of park and glanced into the mirrors in preparation to return to the road.
“No. I’m fine. You can rest if you want to.”
“All I’ve done is rest,” she said ruefully. “I haven’t slept this much during the day since . . . forever.”
“You must have needed it. Sometimes, you’ve just got to let your body tell you what’s right.”
His words seemed to hang in the air and vibrate in her ears. She thought maybe he noticed the charged, potential double meaning of his statement because he inhaled sharply and shifted in his seat as he got the SUV up to speed on the highway.
Sometimes, you’ve just got to let your body tell you what’s right.
The image of his long body stretching and flexing as he’d pumped off those pull-ups jumped into her head. His body was telling him something. So was hers. Seth didn’t want to hear the message. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable giving in to that primal mandate either. Indulging in desire with Seth Hightower might set her off-track. It might make her waver from what had once been a well-planned life and career. She longed to have her orderly life back, not to send it into further chaos.
Despite her cautionary thoughts, she reclined the seat and reached beneath the T-shirt. Seth glanced sideways at her, then quickly returned his gaze to the road. Her breasts felt achy, her nipples chafed and sensitive from the stiff restraint. She found the tab on the zipper and exhaled. They hadn’t turned the radio on when they returned after their short stop. The metallic sound of the zipper lowering sounded far too loud and illicit in her ears.
She finally got it all the way down to her belly and inhaled a full breath of air. Seth opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then pressed his lips together, his jaw rigid. She turned on her side toward him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. He didn’t fully look at her, but she sensed he was very aware of her watching his profile.
For a moment, the silence seemed to pulse with unsaid words. Gia longed to voice some of them, but dread mingled with the urge. Still . . . maybe loosening the binder had released more than the constriction on her lungs.
“I didn’t keep the truth from you that night because I’m a liar by nature,” she finally dared softly. “I wanted you to like me because I thought you were the most attractive man I’d ever met.”
He looked over at her.
“If that was wrong of me, I’m sorry,” she continued in a hushed tone. She waited for a moment for the hot, thick feeling in her chest and throat to recede. “You said on that night that the only rationale for us getting together so impulsively was that we wanted each other. Period.” His hand tightened on the wheel. “I understand that the circumstances have changed. I understand that there are things that make me objectionable to you.”
“I find you far from objectionable, Gia,” he grated out, still staring fiercely at the road.
“Let me finish. I was only going to say that I don’t think all those things make the original reason why we got together invalid. In fact, that reason seems as valid to me as it ever did. More so.”
His hands tightened on the wheel. “You want to give in to it?” he asked tensely through gritted teeth. “All in the name of a few fucks?”
Her heartbeat started to throb in her ears at his crudeness. She understood he was purposefully trying to put her off. It wasn’t going to work. She thought Seth knew that too.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We did that first night. Do you want to? Maybe you think it’ll mean more than just a few fucks, and that’s why you’re balking? It would be horrible, wouldn’t it?” she needled with quiet sarcasm. “Finding yourself wanting to be around an actress? Around me?”
A muscle jumped in his lean cheek. She almost felt the curse he restrained blistering his throat. The silence pounded in her ears. She sighed. Sensing his guard all too perfectly at that moment, she turned away from him and closed her eyes.
* * *
Maybe you think it’ll mean more than just a few fucks, and that’s why you’re balking?
Her voice kept replaying in his head, taunting him. His head started to throb with it. His cock had been intermittently throbbing with something altogether different, and even more incendiary.
Damn. The fact of the matter was, he had sensed it was something more than just a few fucks on that night two years ago. That’s the truth he was guarding himself against. And Gia had guessed that.
He glanced sideways for the hundredth time in the past several hours at her still form. She said she’d withheld the truth from him about her age and about her profession because she’d wanted him. Plain and simple.
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For once, while she slept, he raised the barricades on his memories. He recalled in graphic detail how good it had been with her. She’d been so sweet and generous, letting him devour her, and clearly loving it. He knew he was very demanding in bed. He knew what he liked and wasn’t afraid to voice it. Gia had been right there with him, even though he’d been more demanding and challenging with her than he had been with some long-term lovers.
More insistent, because his lust had never been as sharp as it had been for that fresh, beautiful young woman with a smile that pierced straight through him.
That still pierced.
He’d grown hard again. He hadn’t bargained on how brutal the impact would be when he combined memories of that night with Gia’s nearness to him in the vehicle. Even though he’d drunk two large bottles of water since that kiss, her taste still seemed to linger on his tongue.
He winced and glanced aside again at Gia’s silent form. The forbidden image of making love to her that first time flamed into his head, her fascinated gaze and vividly red cheeks in the mirrored reflections as she observed him watching, as his cock had plunged in and out of her. He’d always been a very visual person. It was part of who he was, a characteristic reflected in his near-photographic memory, his career, his aesthetics, his sexual preferences. Some women found it offensive that he liked to watch lovemaking. He understood that they might feel objectified by it, but that was never his intention. He’d learned to tone it down, depending upon his lover’s temperament.
But Gia had liked watching them together, almost as much as he had.
She’d liked a lot of things.
Blood pulsed into his cock.
He checked the rearview mirror. The highway had been mostly desolate. He’d taken Historic Route 66 intermittently because he thought Gia might like it, but he also knew that it would expose any followers more quickly than a busy interstate might. If he had to guess, he’d say their mission thus far had been successful. One of the most recognized faces in the country had vanished off the map. He felt safer about switching to the major highway in Amarillo, which would be soon.
Making sure Gia was still turned away, he tried to shift his aching cock to a more comfortable position. If she woke up anytime soon, he doubted he could hide his arousal from her. He was hard as a stone, the rigid column of his cock pressed against his jeans at a slanted vertical angle along his pelvis and lower belly. The outline of it was obvious in his jeans. He managed to shift it, but the stimulation didn’t help matters. Gia moved restlessly.
He grimaced, experiencing quiet, simmering agony. So this is what the road to hell looked like.
* * *
“Gia.”
She opened her eyes, immediately recognizing Seth’s voice. The car was dark and stationary. In the distance, she saw the glow of neon lights. She spun around in the seat. Seth was watching her, his face tense, long legs bent directly in front of the seat, his wrists draped over the wheel.
“Where are we?” she mumbled, starting to sit up. She looked behind her and saw a large gas station–convenience store in the distance. As she turned back to him, he quickly dropped his arms to his thighs.
“Outside of Amarillo, Texas. It’s two in the morning. I need a break.”
“Okay,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I should go too.”
“Okay. But do you think you could get yourself together while I go ahead inside? The gas station looks deserted. You shouldn’t have much of an audience.”
She blinked in surprise at his quiet, pressured tone. He must really need to go.
“Sure. The wig won’t be a problem, but I’m going to take off the binder. I’ll put on my jacket,” she said quickly when he looked doubtful.
He nodded, although discomfort shadowed his face. “It’ll do for now. Don’t forget to do your lips and put on the powder.”
He got out of the car. Her brow crinkled in confusion as she watched him in the rearview mirror walk toward the entrance, his quick acquiescence to her disguise shortcut striking her as odd indeed. He usually had a sexy, loose-hipped saunter, but his long, lean form looked especially stiff at the moment. Poor man. She suddenly was very regretful for being so confrontational with him earlier. His muscles must be starting to seize up on him. He’d driven for nearly sixteen hours straight. She would insist on driving when he returned so that he could stretch out. This time, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
She got on the wig without mishap and quickly reapplied her makeup. The finished result wasn’t as good as when Seth did it, but it was sufficient for a dark night and nearly empty gas station. She put on her sunglasses. If she looked a little more hermaphroditic than when Seth took charge of her disguise, Gia doubted it would matter here. One thing was certain: She didn’t look like Gia Harris. She shrugged out of the hated binder and found her jacket in the backseat. She also spotted the toiletry kit Seth had packed and grabbed it. She longed to brush her teeth. Flinging open her door, she got out of the SUV to join Seth inside.
* * *
He couldn’t take it anymore. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Seth was ready to break apart from acute desperation at that moment.
Desperate, nagging, biting arousal.
He couldn’t get back in the close quarters of that vehicle with Gia with his ponderous erection harassing him every fucking second.
He stood in the closed bathroom stall facing the door and unfastened his jeans hastily. Not bothering to remove his underwear, he pulled his heavy erection through the slit in his boxer briefs, wincing as he cupped his balls and lifted them out as well. Furious at his inability to control his arousal, he slapped irritably at the jutting stalk, but even that stimulation excited him. He’d never felt so sensitive, his nerves leaping with excitement. The last several hours in that SUV inhaling Gia’s scent had been a living torture. He needed relief.
He craved her.
Gia wanted to give in to it. He’d never wanted to submit to his need more in this life. He suspected what Gia had said was true though. Once he surrendered, instinct told him he might not be able to leave her without regret.
None of that mattered. Not now. He parted his thighs, taking a firm stance. He fisted himself and began to pump midstaff to just below the swollen head, single-minded and greedy. Only his need to empty himself of this painful craving counted. He closed his eyes and gripped onto the top of the door with his left hand, vivid memories bombarding him: holding Gia naked against him while he sucked on her beautiful breasts, of laying her on that couch and driving into her tight, sweet body while she stared up at him with helpless arousal.
Of course he’d have her again eventually, he thought wildly as he jacked his cock faster and faster, feeling that inevitable truth rising in him as surely as his impending, explosive climax. Could any man hold out with such a bounty of sexy, hot sweetness taunting him at every turn?
* * *
Inside the gas station, Gia passed a sleepy-looking attendant and found the corridor in the back leading to the bathrooms. Figuring Seth was in the men’s room, and seeing not a single female—or anyone—in sight, she ducked into the women’s. She exited several minutes later, assuming Seth would either be out in the car or getting gas. Walking out to the SUV in the back parking lot, she realized he still wasn’t there though. She turned back around and backtracked, thinking she could help him carry the snacks and beverages. The attendant must have been in the back room, because she didn’t see him behind the counter. She started to get a couple bottles of water when she noticed the toiletry bag in her hand.
Maybe Seth wanted to use it?
A moment later, she walked down the corridor that led to the bathrooms again. It suddenly struck her that she was treading very quietly as she approached the men’s room. What was she thinking? Seth had told her he thought she should use the men’s room on the trip. But she couldn’t go in there while he was
in there, boy disguise or no. She was being ridiculous.
Yet she drew closer to the wooden door, the skin of her neck and forearms roughened with awareness. Maybe he wasn’t even in there? He could have been in a part of the large store where she couldn’t spot him? Somehow, though, she didn’t think so. He was in there. She was always very aware of him, but that awareness at the moment seemed to swell and vibrate.
Very softly, she opened the swinging bathroom door. She immediately recognized his black leather work boots in a stall. No one else was in there. She ducked back hastily, but halted her exit just as abruptly. He wasn’t back in the stall, as if he were using the toilet. Instead, he stood close to the stall door, feet forward. Then she noticed his large hand—along with the signature silver ring—gripping the stall door at the top.
As if in a trance, she entered the large lavatory and closed the door silently behind her.
Her heart started racing in her chest. Adrenaline poured into her veins, causing her flesh to tingle. For an eternal second, she remained unmoving. Then she heard a rough, muted groan, and she was moving toward him as if in a dream.
The crack between the stall door and the metal surround wasn’t large, perhaps a quarter of an inch. It was enough for a voyeur—which is what Gia had apparently transformed into in the past few seconds. Of course, she’d guessed what he was doing in there. She’d witnessed his mounting tension. Felt it . . . Shared it . . .
Despite her suspicion, when she saw the fast, pistonlike motion of his arm through the crack, an electrical shock seemed to go through her body. It was enough to mainline a jolt of arousal straight through her. Seth was a very powerful man. To witness him using all his innate force, to sense the tight coil of his arousal unraveling in a frenzy of raw need, was the most forbidden, thrilling thing she’d ever seen.
His pumping grew even faster. She heard him hiss furiously. His hand clenched the top of the door tighter. She stepped closer. Her mind and body had gone tight with anticipation and a purpose that was as single-minded as his apparently was.