Brightest As We Fall

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Brightest As We Fall Page 15

by Cleo Peitsche


  That fucking look.

  It was the same one she’d given him when he boosted the car. It got under his skin, made him feel he’d let her down.

  Why do you fucking care?

  He didn’t, he decided. He pulled off the sandpapery towel and scrubbed it through his hair. DeeAnn was asleep, snoring lightly. She wasn’t about to wake up and see his cock.

  And if she did…

  She wouldn’t see much. He’d jerked off in the shower. Even if DeeAnn hadn’t gotten him worked up in the car, it would have been necessary to get off. Blowing his load was critical after that little incident at the lake, when her body was twitching under his and she was making those breathy little moans.

  Jason located his underwear in the mountain of crap they’d bought at the mall and pulled them on over his hardening cock. He let the elastic waistband snap against his skin, but it didn’t dampen his unwanted arousal.

  No point in bothering with a shirt.

  He preferred to sleep naked. If DeeAnn’s silly pajamas and his boxer-briefs weren’t enough to keep him an honest man, then a T-shirt wasn’t going to provide a scrap of extra resistance.

  DeeAnn was unpredictable, following some obscure logic that made sense to no one but herself yet somehow seemed to work out in the end. She might surprise him, turn him down if he decided to seduce her. She might conjure some unexpected reason why he shouldn’t put his cock in her…

  Or she might be the most enthusiastic woman he’d ever been with. Jason’s cock thickened.

  Why the hell was he still thinking about this, and in such detail?

  Shaking his head, he dug out his new toothbrush and returned to the fogged-up bathroom, irritated that he’d forgotten to buy floss.

  AJ always made fun of him for flossing, but Jason had never had a cavity. Dentists and doctors scared him. Hospitals, even more. He didn’t need a fancy therapist to tell him it was related to Katie. Even now he could smell astringent disinfectant, could hear the squeaking of nurses’ shoes. Jason’s movements slowed, then he shook his head and squeezed a ribbon of paste onto the bristles.

  A muffled scream tore through the room.

  Jason dropped the toothbrush and rushed out.

  DeeAnn was tossing in bed, her face contorted. Both her fists were clenched.

  He could only imagine what kind of nightmare she must be having.

  “Hey,” he said hesitantly. He was reluctant to go closer.

  She became still, but her breathing remained ragged. It was as if she’d escaped whatever demons were chasing her.

  Jason guessed the nightmare wasn’t over, and when she whimpered, he knew he was right.

  The scream he could ignore now that he knew the Jack Rebels hadn’t shown up. But not the whimper. It tugged at his buried, unused protective instincts.

  “Hey. DeeAnn.” Leaning over the unoccupied side of the bed, Jason touched her shoulder.

  Her pretty face squeezed tighter, and he thought she was waking up, but her eyes remained closed. Her mouth opened, and she was panting now.

  He walked over to her side of the bed. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he shook her gently.

  “DeeAnn. Wake up.”

  Her eyes flew open and almost instantaneously, her knee jerked up.

  Jason narrowly avoided the attack, and if he hadn’t been in dozens, if not hundreds, of fights, he might not have sensed it coming.

  “It’s just me.”

  That probably didn’t mean anything to her at the moment.

  “It’s Jason.” That probably didn’t mean anything, either, but the fog seemed to lift from her eyes, and her gaze sharpened, her brow crinkling.

  “What happened? Did I have a nightmare?”

  “Or you were possessed.”

  She laughed softly, but her body was still trembling.

  Jason realized he was still holding her, so he released her. She blinked rapidly, then sat up. The scent of cheap motel shampoo floated in the air.

  “I’m sorry. Shit, I woke you.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Haven’t had a nightmare in ages. If it happens again, just give me a good slap. That’s what my babysitter used to do. By the way, we can share the bed.”

  “I figured that’s why you picked up my sheets.”

  “Maybe I just can’t stand the sight of a disorganized room.” DeeAnn smiled, then glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser across from the bed. “If we sleep all day, we’ll be up all night.”

  That was the idea, at least for Jason. “You can go out if you want, walk around.”

  “There’s nothing to see around here. Just as well. I guess yesterday took a bite out of my ass.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” As he walked toward the bathroom, he was aware of being watched. He looked over his shoulder.

  DeeAnn had casually flipped over to continue checking him out, and he laughed. She blushed and dropped onto her back.

  Jason had been telling the truth when he said he was good at reading people, but DeeAnn was as transparent as a department store window. She didn’t need to be breaking the law. The first time the cops caught up with her, she’d collapse into a crying mess.

  Or maybe not. She’d certainly been nervy enough last night in the woods.

  He thought again of her coming for him in that car, and he shook his head. He was still smiling when he returned to the bed.

  DeeAnn had turned on her bedside lamp and was playing a game on her new phone.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, sitting up.

  He almost shrugged her off, but he wanted to tell her this because she was the only person on the planet who could appreciate it.

  “You,” he said. “Last night, when you were driving down the road.”

  She smiled hesitantly. “Ok…”

  “The look on your face. As long as I live, I’ll never forget that. And I have to tell you, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see anyone.”

  He felt his smile fading, and he got into the saggy bed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He had to think about it, but was that the first time someone had ever saved him? That anyone had ever really done anything for him since he was a kid?

  Then Jason remembered that he’d been carrying the duffel last night. Of course she’d fucking stopped for him.

  You know damn well she wasn’t thinking about the cash right then. She was afraid for you.

  “It’s nothing,” he repeated. “I’m beat, is all.”

  DeeAnn didn’t look like she believed him. She shrugged. “You saved me too,” she said. “By showering. I think that means we’re even.”

  “I didn’t stink that bad.”

  “Earlier you were talking about the primate house at the zoo. Remember that smell?”

  He laughed. Now that he was on his back, the exhaustion settled over him with an assertive finality. “I guess we can’t all smell like baby powder when we sweat,” he said between yawns.

  DeeAnn flopped onto her back with an excess of energy. “You wanna know my secret?”

  “Hm,” he said, aware that he was drifting off.

  He never heard her answer.

  Jason woke five hours later and instantly wished he hadn’t.

  A family of gremlins was squatting inside his skull, banging drums and setting off firecrackers.

  The bathroom light was on, and the door was open. He figured DeeAnn was in there—she sure wasn’t in bed with him.

  She’d have to come out; he needed to piss.

  “Hey,” he called. “Are you gonna be long?”

  No answer.

  He struggled up to sitting. The headache retreated some.

  “DeeAnn?” He tumbled out of bed, took a few unsteady steps, then pulled himself together.

  “Are you…”

  The bathroom was empty.

  Jason whirled toward the bed. Unless DeeAnn had turned invisible while he was unconscious, she wasn’t in the room.
<
br />   “Aw, fuck.”

  Apprehension built to a fever pitch as he hurdled to the window to yank back the cheap curtains.

  The car was gone.

  He turned and looked at the bare rug where he’d dropped his duffel earlier.

  The money was gone.

  “Motherfucker.”

  The headache was back now, stronger than ever.

  It was the least of his worries.

  When he caught DeeAnn—and he would catch her—he was going to…

  He didn’t know what he was going to do, but it wouldn’t be anything she would enjoy.

  Chapter 23

  I toss aside the tattered fashion magazine and glance up at the clock.

  Only two minutes have passed since the last time I looked. I’d think the clock is broken, but the red second hand is sweeping steadily around the dial.

  The brightly lit laundromat is empty except for me and a skinny guy in his late thirties. He’s cleaning towels and blankets, which are taking up almost all the dryers. He put a million quarters into his machines—way more than he’ll ever need, or so I’d thought at the time.

  My clothes are in the dryer, too, though it’s starting to feel like they’ll never be finished.

  This place is a rip-off. But at least it’s clean.

  I glance out at the parking lot. The motor lodge is only about five minutes away, and I’m sure I’ll be back long before Jason wakes up. As tired as he is, he’ll probably sleep until tomorrow morning.

  After all, everything I did yesterday, in terms of running through the woods, he did, too. And he didn’t sleep.

  Whenever I think about Jason, my heart beats faster. When he asks why I washed the clothes—and he will ask—I’m going to blame manufacturing chemicals on the new clothes and tell him I couldn’t sleep until they were clean.

  He doesn’t need the details: lying beside him in bed was making me jittery, like I’d chugged a gallon of espresso.

  I mean, I’ve seen the guy completely naked, and there’s not a flaw anywhere on his body. It’s safe to say I’ve never wanted any man as much as I want him.

  Having to share a bed with him, knowing that if I make the first move, there’s a good chance I’ll get rejected… It’s torture.

  And he will reject me.

  At one point I thought my chances were pretty good, but ever since he started ranting about why I’d never make it as a prostitute, I can’t ignore the reality.

  Jason came out and said it: if you were my sister.

  It doesn’t get much more platonic than that.

  The clock tells me another ninety seconds have passed. I wish blanket guy would take his stuff and leave. Then I’d be able to hear when my dryer stops.

  Feeling restless, I decide to step outside for a few minutes, breathe air that’s not full of tiny lint particles and synthetic floral odors.

  The sun is setting, and there aren’t many streetlights, yet this area feels peaceful, safe. After I finish here, maybe I’ll do some grocery shopping, pick up snacks and sandwich makings for the road. That way we won’t have to keep stopping at rest areas and eating month-old burritos.

  A squeal of tires alerts me to a car passing. I glance over in time to see an old coupe backing up, braking hard, then turning, accelerating fast toward me. The windows are tinted, and light hits the windshield, obscuring the people inside.

  I’m frozen in place.

  Each second lasts an hour. This isn’t like last night, when I knew danger was coming. When I was expecting it.

  They found us.

  No. They found me.

  And they’ll torture me until I tell them where to find Jason and the money. Jason. What will they do to him?

  The car screeches to a stop. The door swings open.

  Jason jumps out.

  I’m so stunned, I can’t even ask him what happened, what’s wrong.

  But it must be bad. Somehow, the Jack Rebels must have tracked us.

  Jason’s a demon, wild haired and dark stubbled. He wears jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt, the tags and spare button hanging off the collar. The laces of his boots are untied.

  He strides up to me, shirt flapping and shadows playing over his granite abs, and for a second I think he’s going to hit me because the look in his face is pure fury, like if he could blow things up with a thought, there would be nothing standing in a hundred-mile radius.

  But what did I do?

  I back away. My mouth opens, but words don’t come out.

  “DeeAnn.” Jason’s voice is a jagged growl.

  Then he takes my face in his hands. He smells like cedar and bitter orange.

  The sunlight is fading but I can still see the color of his eyes. He looks lost, and my heart breaks for him. His focus shifts, and now he’s staring intently at me.

  And then he pulls me close for the roughest, most unexpected kiss of my life.

  I’m so shocked that my entire body goes rigid.

  Jason is kissing me—

  His hands cup my face, and his tongue slides between my lips.

  Never have I been touched with so much need and longing. The physical sensations overwhelm me, and I become new, worlds opening, universes exploding into existence.

  At first Jason tastes like minty toothpaste, but underneath is a subtle intoxicant that I can only describe as him. A maleness.

  I don’t believe it. My head swims, and I wish I could turn off my thoughts and enjoy this moment for however long it lasts.

  If only I were wearing something sexier than a T-shirt and leggings.

  Stubble burns my cheek as Jason slides his lips toward my ear. I try to tilt my head, to offer my neck, but I can’t move. He drops one hand lower to caress my throat with large, strong fingers, and I realize how fragile I am compared to him.

  He traces a finger over my ear, tucks a wild lock of hair behind it. Tingles of pleasure follow the trail of his fingers.

  I want more, and faster, need to satiate the clenching wet heat between my legs. My breathing is embarrassingly loud.

  Jason continues his exploration. Stroking my shoulder. Fingers pressing hard against my spine and making me arch and thrust my breasts against him. His journey comes to a stop at the small of my back.

  Go lower, I think. Which is ridiculous because if he does, we’re going to end up fucking right here, in public.

  He pauses and stares into my eyes again, then his mouth moves toward mine. Consumed and ravenous, I meet him more than halfway. My nails dig into the rock of his forearms.

  This kiss. God, I never knew it could be so good…

  Jason’s other hand has slid to the back of my head. He holds me in place, preventing me from escaping his possessive kiss.

  And it is possessive. His hunger matches my own, and he’s staking his claim.

  A touch on my lower back urges me closer to him, and now I feel his erection.

  His cock.

  Because this is a man who will refer to it as a cock, not a dick or a penis, or like the guy I dated in high school, a willy.

  This is a cock. A thick, long, masculine staff, designed to satisfy. If Jason and I fuck—and right now, I’m pretty sure that’s what’s gonna happen—it’s going to be different than anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  I know because it’s different already.

  He ends the kiss and nuzzles lower, to my chin. His lips graze the sensitive spot where my jaw and neck meet, where my pulse flutters wildly.

  And then my prayers are answered.

  Both hands drop to my ass, kneading and squeezing in a way that makes me so happy to be female. His fingers dig into my flesh, and I feel soft and vulnerable.

  My skin is on fire. Jason’s scent fills my lungs. I long to drop to my knees, to unzip his jeans, take out his cock, and lick it.

  I don’t want to just lick it, though. I want to smell him, to stroke him, to squeeze his shaft and feel its strength and solidity against my palm.

  Then he’s pulling me a
gainst him, and my feet leave the ground.

  My legs wrap around his hips and lock at the ankles.

  For the first time in my life, I feel elegant and free.

  “Why?” I whisper.

  He encircles my waist with a thickly muscled arm. His other hand digs into my hair and pulls my head back. When I arch, my pussy presses against his rock-hard abs, leaving me gasping.

  I wish my leggings would disintegrate. If I get any hornier, they might actually burn off.

  “Why does anything happen?” Jason doesn’t sound smart-ass or dismissive, just breathless with anticipation. I don’t know this side of him.

  But I want to.

  Over the sound of my own frenzied breathing, I hear the laundromat door open.

  “Get a fucking room,” a nasally male voice mutters.

  Even though it’s not funny, at that moment it’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard, and I crack up laughing.

  Jason relaxes his grip on my hair, and I sigh forward, letting my forehead rest against his shoulder. His body is tall and strong, slabs of thick muscle over a broad and powerful frame.

  I know it’s a dream, and I don’t ever want to wake up.

  Chapter 24

  Jason slowly lowered DeeAnn even though he didn’t want to let her go. Her body stayed pressed against his.

  “Wow. That was… intense.” DeeAnn tucked her thick hair behind her ear and looked toward the road. A light smile worked at her lips.

  Inside the laundromat, everything was quiet.

  “I think the clothes are done,” Jason said.

  DeeAnn stepped reluctantly away, then turned back.

  The smile was gone, replaced by a cute little furrow between her eyes. “Where did you—”

  “Borrowed it from the motel’s office manager.” Technically, he’d rented it for two hundred bucks and had left a deposit of five thousand. The manager probably hoped the car wouldn’t come back. “It’s not stolen.”

  Her cheeks pinkened, the color matching the tip of her tongue as she licked her lips. Her obvious relief at how he’d gotten the car made him feel… strange. A little insulted, definitely. Was he such a bad person?

  “See you back at the room,” DeeAnn said. Smiling shyly, she headed inside.

 

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