by Evie Adams
We arrived at an empty motel on the outskirts of a small town near the highway. “Come in with me, I don't want to leave you here, not even tying you up or to the seat.”
“I don't think that's a good idea.” She answered calmly.
“Why not? And besides, I don't care what you think. Come with me.” I tugged at her hand but she didn’t move.
“It's just not a good idea in general. You're a white guy, well, Italian. I'm a black girl. We're in the deep south. But this isn't just a south thing, it's a people thing. I'd say the same thing if we were in California.”
“You mean they'll disapprove?”
“Yes, but that's not the important thing. They can pretty easily say we're all booked and that's that.”
“They wouldn't do that.” I looked at all the empty spaces in the parking lot.
“Some places want to know if people are married before they rent a room. Of course they would. It doesn't mean they will, it just means it's a better idea to avoid that. Have pity on them. No need to remind decent people that they're assholes about certain things for no good reason.”
“And where will you have your precious shower?” I asked.
“At a decent place, a hotel. They aren't very hard to find.”
“No. Too many people. Too many things that can go wrong. Come with me, don't make me ask again. And don't try anything in there.”
That threat didn't scare her, but she did as she was told. The woman at check-in was quiet, and possibly did disapprove, but she didn't say anything and wasn't going to deny us anything when I paid the $1,000 credit card deposit in cash. But I listened to Nina's advice, I got two rooms right next to each other even though we were only going to use one.
“Do y'all have a first aid kit or something? Or a store close by that would sell one? My boss here took a nasty fall and scraped himself up pretty good, but won't go see a doctor.” I looked at Nina stupidly, surprised by what sounded like a perfect southern accent, surprised she would open her mouth when I told her not to. Even if she was thinking of me, it was a bad idea. She should have listened.
“Sure, we have one. What do you need?” The receptionist was all smiles now. She went to the backroom and was gone a few moments. I grabbed Nina hard by the arm and growled at her, “What are you doing. No one's injured. They'll report that to police.” I let her go before the lady came back with the aid kit and she threw on the accent again.
“It's really nothing but I worry.” She picked out a bandage and antibiotics. “Just put it on the bill.” She said and walked out with me behind her.
I opened the room and she spread the bandages on the bed. The single bed.
“Do you want me to change your bandages before I shower or after?” She asked, not commenting on the bed.
“After I shower.” I told her.
She opened up the bathroom door and looked a little disappointed it was so small at first but she turned her head up above the shower and I saw the hamster wheel turning in her head. She was happy again.
She turned around to face me, “You could go next door and we could shower at the same time if you don't trust me.” She offered what must have sounded like a good idea to her.
“Nope.”
She almost argued, I could see the indignation flash across her face, but she put it away, folded it up and placed it somewhere deep, she would remember and pay me back. “Okay, do you want to go first or second?”
“Second.”
“Good, I'm dying for one. I may be a while but I promise not to use all the hot water. Only most of it.”
That was a nice touch. “Take as long as you want, I'll be fine waiting.”
“What are you grinning for?” She asked.
It must have been a big dumb grin. I would have found a mirror to see for myself but I didn't want to miss the look on her face. “Do you think you could fit through that window?” I asked her, pointing to the small rectangular window above the shower.
“What window?” She asked without turning around.
“The one you looked at just now when you opened the door and decided to climb out of it.”
“I just want a shower,” she cast her eyes down, caught in a lie but that wasn’t the best part. My grin grew.
“You will.” I walked towards her and she backed away from me until her calf met the tub of the shower.
“You can't mean,” she realized my plan. Her eyes grew large in fear, but there was something mixed with the fear. Desire.
I spoke calmly, insistently, locking her eyes to mine, “You squeezed yourself out of the boat window the first morning you were with me. You escaped into empty fields last night while I desperately needed sleep. Why would I let you out of my sight?”
“Common decency?”
“Nope.”
“Trust?” She tried.
“Nope.”
She weighed her options and looked down at the floor. “Then I don't really need one I guess.”
“Nope,” I told her. “I paid handsomely for your shower.”
Her face twisted at me, but she wasn't getting out of this, and I wasn't going to take it easy on her. I enjoyed that rebellious face of hers. It looked almost the same as when she had a gun pointed at me and her face and eyes were lit by the campfire. But that face had a little bit of doubt, a little hesitation. This one didn't.
I had been waiting to see this face since I dragged her into the car last night. There wasn't anything in the world that would stop it from happening short of an earthquake or the end of the world, and even then I liked my chances of seeing this through.
“Turn around,” she said when the water was on and she was ready to get in.
“Nope.”
She was glorious. She stared daggers at me as she undressed. I did my best to keep my eyes locked on hers, but a man can only do so much. She stood before me naked and defiant. When I was weak and let my eyes break away from hers to take in her delicious body, she turned around, dismissing me. But the view from there was just as good.
She didn't even close the curtain. She reminded me how cruel she could be dressing my wounds, a sort of enjoyment in my suffering. I'd rather she tear out all my stitches and pour whiskey over all my wounds than sit through this torture.
Look but don't touch.
She lathered up and when she bent over to soap her long beautiful legs, she locked eyes with me again, staring up at me, the dark centers of her eyes locked on me, the whites disappearing and her curves spilling out. Her back arched and leading to her heart shaped ass. I could barely breathe. She turned away, amused in her torture.
I promised.
Fuck promises.
“Need a hand?” I asked, trying to recover as she threw soap at her back. She ignored me. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if she had answered me. She stood under the shower head and rinsed herself with her eyes closed. Forgetting about me, taking a deep breath that stretched her body, lingering too long in the water before she opened her eyes and stepped out.
Wordlessly, she grabbed a towel and dried herself and wrapped two around herself.
“No,” I told her and grabbed the edge of her towel, not letting her close it around her. A hesitation in her eyes, the fear of what I might do to her again and a quiet desire for me to do it behind them.
“I have no shame. I will chase you out of this room and through the parking lot and where the hell ever you run naked. But I don't think you would run out of here naked, so no towel for you until I'm done with my shower.”
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CHAPTER 12 - NINA
I would run out naked, my level of shame has quickly eroded. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of begging and arguing for a scrap of towel.
I sat back and watched. There was nothing very sexy in the way he undressed, but it was adorable. He tugged his pants off, pulling them off with his hands part of the way, then used his legs to hold down the c
uff of one and pull the rest off while he contorted his body out of them. His injured arm he held close to his chest, protecting it.
He washed fairly quickly, running his one good arm over his back and stomach, but still facing the corner, away from me. Then I realized.
Certain parts of the body you can't control. I was thankful that as a woman those parts were concealed. For him, like a boy in junior high, he had to hide.
That was adorable. Almost as adorable as when I noticed the dimples in his smile weren’t the only cheeks that had dimples.
“Come here and help me,” he growled.
I didn't move right away. This was a dangerous moment for me. Both naked, now I had to help him bathe.
“My promise stands, I need help,” he said angrily. Angry at his body for not doing what he wanted it to. For needing my help. He was ashamed, but at least he could ask for help. Most people wouldn't.
I stood up, afraid but not of him. I trusted him. And he trusted me more than he wanted to by asking for my help. He turned around, not wanting to face me. That helped. I traced the soap over his back, his shoulders, the v-shaped taper of his back down to his ass. I wanted to squeeze those dimples but controlled myself.
I lathered him up in soap, white bubbles caressing his back and hips and cheeks and I bent down to get his legs. It must be the steam getting to me. I'm a nurse. This is a sponge bath for a needy person.
No it wasn't.
My fingers traced every inch of him until he was covered in lather. I had never lathered myself so much.
“Turn around,” I told him, in my most medical, clinical voice.
I stood to get the front of his shoulders, his muscles ropey, like coiled snakes ready to pounce. He looked away, up at the ceiling, and I lathered his chest and abs. I lifted his arm to get underneath, and went lower with the lather.
He was hard and huge. I bet I could have stood a wet towel on him. I lathered him up, trying my best to be professional, clinical. If he had looked at me or made a move I don't know what I would have done.
He turned around and into the water without me asking this time, rinsed all the lather away.
“Your stitches,” I said when the lather was off and I noticed the trickle of blood from them.
He grabbed a towel and tried not to look at me, like he was angry at me. “Come and bandage them,” he said and turned off the water and walked out.
I pulled a towel around myself and followed him out, he lay on the bed in front of me, the door just past him if I wanted to run for it.
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CHAPTER 13 - LUCA
It took every ounce of my will to not take her right there in the shower. Especially as her fingers lingered over my body, the silky feel of the lather mixed with her electric fingers, her smell, the warm water on half of me and coolness of the air on the other half. I was going out of my mind.
I promised.
But she was making it impossible for me to keep my promise. I can't fuck her and expect Elio not to react, not to get jealous.
But there is another way.
My arm felt good, it was wrapped in fresh bandages and warm from whatever salve she put on it. It was stiff when I tried to stretch it out but clean and felt good. Nina was still cleaning my chest, dabbing at the stitches, massaging them. “I think this one looks good, it mostly closed up on its own, not bleeding anymore or losing any more blood. I'll wrap it up and then you can lie down and rest.”
She opened up another bandage and a foil packet of something oily and rubbed it over my chest. She must have been right about the blood, I didn't feel weak, and now I could feel my heartbeat in my cock, coming to life as she rubbed the oil over me and placed the bandage over it.
I hurt, both my body and my pride, but I couldn't remember the last time I felt this good, with her taking care of me, smelling like apples and misty water from her shower and the soap. “This might be the best few days I’ve ever had.”
She laughed, a beautiful, lilting laugh, like a marbles rolling over wood floors. “If that's true I feel terrible for you.”
“I'm sure It’s true. You're marvelous.”
“Maybe you lost more blood than I thought. Now shut up and let me finish this.”
I put my hand on her hip and felt her warmth through the towel.
She leaned over me, her face scrunched up and focused on me. I tried not to look at her, tried to think of something else, anything to keep my promise. But I couldn't help watch her slender fingers tremble as they worked.
She was trembling. It wasn’t just her fingers. She was as worked up as I was. I pinched the towel. “Didn't I say no towel?” I asked to try to break her concentration.
“Habit,” she said but didn't look at me.
“I remember saying no towel,” I pulled the towel in my hand, and it fell around her waist, exposing her breasts, but she worked on the bandage, concentrating, focusing, but not saying no, or stop. I cupped her breast in my good hand and felt the nipple getting hard under my thumb as I grazed it lightly.
Still she taped the bandage, her face stretched in concentration as she applied tape to the bandages. My cock was rock hard now, making a tent in my towel, almost staring her in her face as she worked. Her nipples were rock hard under my touch and she leaned away from me as I sat up, but she didn’t get very far. I cupped her breast in my hand and captured her mouth in a hot, wet kiss. It wasn't a gentle kiss or a romantic kiss, it was a hungry kiss that sent a rush of heat flooding my veins. I felt her warmth against my skin. I pulled her around towards me and slid my tongue over hers, exploring her lips and her mouth as I kissed her hard and furiously. I wanted to fuck her more than I had wanted anything in my whole life but whenever I moved, I hurt.
“Stop, your bandages,” she said with our foreheads still touching, her breath against my lips.
“I know.” I told her, not letting her get away. “Don't worry. I want to fuck you like crazy but not like this. I'm going to lick you until you explode. I promise.”
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CHAPTER 14 - NINA
The way he said it destroyed all my resistance. ‘Explode.’
I wanted to be fucked like crazy but that promise sounded like heaven. He kissed me like I wanted to be kissed, his stubble beard rough against my face. He threaded his hands into my hair and he wasn’t gentle with his touch, just as I hadn't been gentle earlier on him. I didn’t want to be coddled or cuddled. I wanted to be taken. He kissed me greedily and I was sure I would still be able to feel this kiss tomorrow, in my bones, in my knees. It burned through my whole body like a flare in the dark, igniting me, illuminating me. My hands found his cock and he groaned at the touch then broke the kiss, moving his mouth to my ear.
“That’s most of the blood in my body, let go. It’s you who’s going to explode.”
Desire tore through me as he spoke. I tried to push his head between my legs where I wanted him. Where I was dying for him. Where he promised he was going.
I desperately wanted to grab hard onto his hair, pull him into me. I ached for his touch. But he had other plans, he settled over my breasts, cupping them in his big strong hands.
“Your body is gorgeous,” he said as he breathed in, then he bit me, not hard, not painfully, but close. Enough to let me know he could. I gasped.
“Maybe when I think of you I think of pain,” he said, playfully echoing my words, whispering them roughly against my skin. He could do anything he wanted. I trusted him.
He flicked his tongue against my nipple, drawing it deeper into his mouth until I moaned, then he bit down. Not so hard it hurt, but hard enough to remind me again that he could hurt me. His hands held me down as I tried to sit up, pinned me right where I was.
“That feels amazing,” I moaned softly as his tongue swirled around my nipples.
I could feel him smile as he licked between my breasts, squeezing as he brought one into his mouth, sucking
hard on my nipple but not too hard, exactly as much as I could take. My hips shot up, my body begging for him, needing him. Every bite, every twitch of his tongue drove me wild. He brushed his teeth across my nipple across his teeth, slowly, so that I didn't know what he intended, slow pleasure or sharp pain, I didn't know which one I wanted more. “Please,” I said, just wanting him to not stop.
“Which promise should I keep and which throw away?” He asked as his mouth worked.
“All of them,” I panted.
“Say please again,”
“Please,” I whispered, looking down at him, holding his lustful eyes on mine.
He smiled and moved lower, settling between my legs, his smooth curved shoulders against my thighs. His muscles coiled and my thighs trembled against them. Squeezing him, holding him, hoping he would stay there, right there.
He swirled his tongue against me. The heat of my body nothing against the heat of his tongue. His tongue was stiff like his body, soft and warm at the surface and hard and on fire underneath. I arched my hips instinctively, my body desperate for him.
I let my knees fall open at the insistence of his fingers, they wanted to squeeze him but they fell as his fingers commanded them.
I had never wanted a man so much as I did right then, I was powerless against him. I would have got down on my knees and begged and done whatever else he asked. If he would just press his mouth against me again. I was dying for his mouth. I wanted to feel his lips, to curl my fingers in his hair.
I wanted him.
I needed him. I needed to get lost in this moment to let everything go and surrender to the burning feeling building inside me and making its way to my skin.
To explode.
He pressed his tongue against me, licking, swirling his tongue, tying me up in knots. I angled my hips closer to his mouth, gasping as he kissed and licked at me like I was an ice cream cone. As if I was the best thing he’d ever tasted. That’s how it felt, as he swallowed me up, taking his time, savoring it, ignoring my urging to go harder and faster, he took his time, deliberately, and that made it even better.