by Lee, Lia
“Good. It would only endanger her as well.”
“Can you come in? It’s cold in here, and I’m scared. I need to give Mason a bath and get him ready for bed.”
“On my way. Stay by the door so I don’t have to knock.”
“Right.”
I slither like a damn snake from the front seat of my truck and through the breezeway to the door of room 15. It’s an end unit, lucky for us. Dallas opens the door soundlessly to let me slip inside. I close the door and bolt it, then stand with my back to it, taking in the sight of her with our baby in her arms. She looks exhausted; dark shadows ring her eyes. Her long hair fans out over her shoulders, partially covering Mason in a protective shroud of golden locks. Despite the frightening circumstances, a warm wave of gladness passes over me that we’re together. The three of us.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.”
“Dally, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I should have been with you and Mason. Made sure you got to your appointment okay.”
“You offered. I refused. It’s not your fault, Levi. You’re helping us now, that’s what’s important.”
I nod and glance around the room, spotting the AC unit on one wall. I move toward it and crank up the heat. Dallas follows behind. “Should warm up in a few minutes,” I say.
“Thanks. Can you take him while I run the bath?”
I turn and gaze down at the warm bundle of tiny human she offers me. “Sure.” For the second time today, I get to hold my son. I gently take him from her loving embrace and cradle him in the crook of my arm like she showed me as she moves into the bathroom. The drapes are drawn and a single, shaded lamp offers the only light in the room. But it’s enough for me to see every soft curve of his angelic face, every hair on his perfect, round head. I’m in speechless awe of this little miracle of humanity. For all the darkness and cruelty in the world, there is also a blinding, hopeful light—exemplified in the radiant, untouched beauty and innocence of a child.
He wriggles his little body and starts making whimpering noises. Uh-oh. I don’t think I’ll know what to do if he starts full-on crying. “Hey now, it’s just me. Daddy’s got you,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his small hands that are balled into fists. I can’t believe I just said the word “daddy.” His eyes pop wide open, and I’m amazed by their deep blue color. That’s Dallas all the way. One tiny hand re-wraps around my outstretched fingers. I don’t know what he gets from me, unless it’s the iron grip he’s exerting on my index finger right now.
“Damn!” Dallas curses from inside the bathroom. “There’s no tub. Only a shower.” She pops into the main room, one hand indignantly on her hip. “Oh well. Just have to make the best of it, I guess. I could use a shower myself anyway.” She comes toward us and holds out her arms.
I have no idea how to bathe a baby, much less shower with him. “So, how you going to manage that?” I ask, handing Mason over to her. Dallas looks up at me, her twin orbs of cornflower blue flashing in amusement.
“Well, if you want to watch, you’ll find out.” Her hair swings a blonde arc as she scoops up Mason and flounces back into the bathroom. My jaw works back and forth for a second. Was that an invitation, or sarcasm? “Maybe you’d like to help?” her voice echoes from inside the room, just as I hear the shower taps squeal to life. Now that was an invitation.
“Happy to be of service,” I say, taking a few tentative steps forward and peeking around the corner of the open bathroom doorway. She lays Mason down on the vanity and begins unbuttoning her blouse, yanking the tails out of her jeans and peeling the shirt away, revealing a lacy pink bra. My instinct is to look aside, but I don’t. I’ve not seen her in almost two years; hell, I’ve not seen or been with any woman in all that time. As my body reacts to the vision before me, I realize when I said I missed her, I didn’t know the half of it until this moment.
She reaches for the waistband of her jeans and pops the rivet, splits the zipper and quickly shoves the snug-fitting denims off her lovely, round buttocks and onto the floor. She looks up, catching me staring. “Well, now’s not the time to be shy. Come on in, if you’re coming.”
I step farther into the small room, my pulse accelerating as the matching pink panties are cast to the floor along with the bra. Dallas tucks her hair behind her ears and leans over Mason to undress him, her supple, round breasts swaying a little with the motion. I ache to touch them, feel their weight in my hands, brush those brown nipples with my thumbs.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, my voice catching a little in my throat. I feel like a peeping Tom ogling her this way. She lifts Mason from the countertop and presses him to her nude torso, one hand cupping his head and the other his tiny butt. A nude Madonna and child. I swallow hard, willing my swelling cock to stand down inside my jeans.
“Get undressed and get in,” she gestures to the shower with a tilt of her head. “We’ll take turns holding him while we wash up.” She looks me up and down. “I’m willing to bet you could use a shower yourself.” With that, she draws back the flower-patterned shower curtain and steps in.
While I have my own necessity-is-the-mother-of-invention running water system up at the cabin, it’s definitely not as convenient as turning on a tap; and it has been a day and a half since I availed myself of a bath or shower. The beckoning steam rising from behind the curtain is too much of a siren call to resist. Or is it just raw lust clouding my eyes? Fuck it. I strip off my jacket and the rest of my clothes in record time, just as Mason begins to wail.
“Oh shhh…you love the water,” Dallas coos. “See? Isn’t this nice? Gonna get you all clean.”
I pull the curtain aside enough to peer in. “Is it okay? Is he alright?”
“Get in here, and close the curtain,” she laughs. She doesn’t need to ask me again, but I’m a little concerned what she might think of the unmanicured, unshaven version of me. Not to mention my rather obvious erection. But there’s not much space in the square stall, and Dallas is too busy rubbing shampoo into Mason’s hair to notice much about me as I step close, sandwiching our baby between us.
His cries cease as the warm water cascades over all three of us, and I reach for the little bar of hotel soap on the ledge and tear off the wrapper. “I’ll work on you while you work on him,” I say, reaching around behind her and stroking the creamy suds across her back, reveling in the smooth softness of her skin, the ridges of her spine, and the curve of her ass. The water streams down on our heads, flowing in little rivers over our nude bodies on the way down.
Dallas’s hair clings in wet ringlets around her neck and chest while she holds Mason to her breasts, rinsing his little body with handfuls of water from her cupped hand. It’s as maternal a scene as I can ever imagine, and yet I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.
“Mmm, that feels good,” she murmurs as I continue massaging her delicate skin with soap.
“I know what would feel even better,” I say before I can stop from verbalizing the thought.
“That would be a bit difficult under the circumstances.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I reply as I allow my hand to sweep along the curve of her hip and around to her front, slipping a soapy two fingers into the warm, wet triangle between her legs. I stroke gently, forward and back, feeling the velvety bud of her clit brush against my fingertips.
Dallas utters a helpless moan. “Levi, don’t.”
“Why not? It’s the least I can do after the day you’ve had. You deserve some pleasure.”
“That’s not the point,” she gasps, her clit beginning to swell between my fingers.
“It isn’t? Are you sure?” I ask, a smile curving my lips as I feel her excitement grow.
She groans and presses her lips to Mason’s tiny head. “I’m not saying it doesn’t feel good, but this is hardly the time.”
“We’re alone, in private. No one knows we’re here. What more perfect time could there be?”
She reaches down to push my hand away. �
��Just…wait…please.” Her words echo inside the tiny porcelain enclosure. She looks at me, her breathing heavy, droplets streaming off the tip of her nose and the ends of her hair. As awkward as the situation is, I want her more than anything at this moment. “Here, hold Mason a minute.”
I take the baby into my arms, shielding his face from the falling water. Dallas pries the soap bar out of my hand and begins to wash Mason’s bottom, legs, and feet. He twists and squawks as I try to keep a firm grip on his slippery little body.
“Hold still, you,” I laugh.
As the water rinses him clean, Dallas’s hands move farther afield, around my backside, rubbing the soap in circles over my ass cheeks. “Two can play at this game,” she says, sliding the bar of soap up my back with one hand, while the other slips dangerously over my thigh and around to my crotch, caressing the underside of my still-rigid cock. “How does that feel,” she asks, “knowing you want it but happen to have a squirming child in your arms?”
“I get it,” I say through clenched teeth, her touch seeming to send all the blood in my body rushing south. “Let’s finish here and take this outside.”
“Good boy. You’re catching on.”
Chapter Eight
Dallas
I’m still wrapping my head around the concept that this is Levi, my Levi, facing me in the tiny shower stall of a seedy motel, our child wriggling between us, and warm, comforting water raining down on us from overhead. Beads of moisture collect in his wiry moustache and beard, glistening like little crystals. He seems like another person entirely, someone I’m only meeting for the first time, yet know intimately.
Or do I?
Off-putting at first, I’m fast becoming accustomed to his wild appearance. Not that I wouldn’t prefer a clean-shaven, smartly dressed professional. But does that persona still exist under the Yeti-like armor he’s grown around himself? Either way, I can’t deny the primal allure of this rough, burly, mountain-man façade. Though I don’t relish those stiff beard-hairs rubbing against my skin, his sculpted, outdoor-hardened physique is lighting the pilot flame of a long-neglected sexual furnace inside me.
His teasing touches spin my arousal meter off the dial. It’s been too long since I’ve been with a man, any man. And the one I want is right here in front of me. My fingers wrap around his erect cock, squeezing its rigid but yielding mass in my palm. I stroke it gently, eliciting a rumbling sound from deep within his hair-covered chest. I need us to get out of this warm, steamy enclave, as sweet-smelling and safe as it is, put Mason to sleep, and get this aroused beast between the motel sheets as fast as possible.
“I’ll take care of Mason while you finish up,” I whisper, my lips mere inches from his.
“Meet you on the bed.”
Levi wraps his free arm around my shoulders and closes the distance between us, his hungry mouth meeting mine above the head of our infant child and enveloping me in the wettest, hottest kiss of my life. My senses reel as I sink into the wildness and urgency of it, taste the hints of mint and pine on his lips, while his tongue explores the hot interior of my mouth.
My heart is pounding as he finally breaks contact, stealing my breath away as he does so.
“That’s a promise,” he murmurs.
Mason starts to cry, and I pull aside the shower curtain. Levi holds my hand as I step out, ensuring I don’t slip and fall, before handing me our wet, squirming, squealing bundle of joy. I get one last, lustful look at his wonderfully muscled form, complete with full-mast arousal, before he slides the curtain shut again. My pussy clenches in response.
I dry us off with the clean but somewhat worn motel towels, and dress Mason in a sleeper from his diaper bag I’ve set on the floor of the bathroom. Thank goodness Mom brought several changes of clothes and a large pack of disposable diapers for us, as well as extra bottles, formula, and jars of baby food. I still have Miller’s applesauce as well. It should get us through a couple of days at least. I run a sink full of hot water to place one of the pre-filled bottles in to warm.
I pull on a clean t-shirt and panties, though I plan to be taking them off again very shortly. Mason makes pleading noises as he spies the bottle in the sink. “Hold on, little man, you’ll like it better if you wait a few minutes.” Who am I kidding? I’m not about to wait more than thirty seconds myself to get him down and sleeping. I make a kind of nest out of his diaper bag to set him in and hand over the bottle to his reaching, grasping hands.
He’s big enough to hold it himself, and sucks on it greedily. I fish for a comb in my purse so I can detangle my mane of wet hair, but can’t see a thing in the completely steamed mirror. There’s no switch for an exhaust fan in the dated premises, but I see there’s an old-style casement window. With the flip of a latch and a firm tug, I pull it open to let the steam out. The shower taps squeal shut, and I hurry to pull the comb through my hair and exit the bathroom to make room for Levi.
The main room seems much warmer than when we first got here. I lay Mason in his blanket in the middle of the nearest bed, still happily downing his milk. I sit and watch him as his eyelids droop and his feeding slows to the occasional sleepy pull of his lips. I can never get enough of looking at my son. His perfect little face is like a window to heaven for me. I smile as I remove the bottle from his loosened grasp, thankful for every moment since his birth and this chance for him to know his father.
The bathroom door opens, and I look up to see Levi’s frame-filling silhouette dressed in jeans but no shirt. A shiver of excitement tingles its way up my spine at the sight. Stray drops of water snake their way down his muscled abs, leading to the dark line of hair disappearing below his waistband. His hooded eyes are alight with desire. It feels strange and surreal, but right too that we should be here together. And why not? He said it first; we’re a family now.
“Asleep?” he says, nudging his bearded chin toward Mason.
“Out like a light,” I say, nodding.
“Good. Speaking of lights…” Levi hits the switch for the bathroom, throwing it into darkness. “Better if it looks like no one’s here.” He walks to the other side of the room to turn off the lone floor lamp as well. I blink as my eyes adjust to the sudden dark, only a dim glow of the property’s lights penetrating the drapes from the outside. I hear the rustle of denim as Levi returns, and feel his hand slip into mine, pulling me to my feet.
I lean against his bare chest, inhaling the heady mix of scented soap and musky maleness as he holds me close, his thinly shielded erection pressing hard against my belly. I’m excited but a little nervous, too. We haven’t done this in a long time, and there certainly weren’t any condoms in the supplies I’d asked my mother to bring. Am I being foolish, or paranoid?
“I want you, Dally,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Are you alright with this? With me?” His lips touch down on my forehead, my nose, my cheek, between each phrase.
I let out a shuddering sigh. Lord help me, I want this too. “Yes,” I whisper back. “Yes, I am. With everything.” He tips my chin upward and claims my lips in another soul-shaking kiss, the brush-like scouring of his beard on my face the last thing I care about. My arms twine around his neck, crushing myself closer to him, clinging to him like a lifeline in the storm of emotions swirling all around me.
His arms are around my waist and his groin is pressing urgently against my abdomen. His palms glide across my ass cheeks, roving in slow circles; his fingertips catch the lace edge of my panties and slip inside, pulling at the hem and sliding the material away.
“Dallas…” he moans, his warm breath caressing my ear.
My knees are shaking, threatening to collapse, when the sound of an engine rumbles outside and a beam of light slashes through the small split in the heavy drapes. Another guest pulling into the parking lot, I imagine, but I’m too wrapped up in our bodies’ needs to care.
Levi’s kisses trail down my neck and onto my shoulder, and his hands are now cupping my breasts through my shirt, his thumbs beading over my nippl
es that are tingling into stiff peaks. The beam of light dims with the sound of crunching gravel, and then reappears at a different angle, shining directly in my eyes. I turn my head away as Levi straightens and glances toward the window.
“What the fuck,” he growls, releasing me from his embrace.
“Just car headlights,” I say, the loss of his touch almost painful.
“Maybe.” He moves away and stands with his back to the door, pushing aside the edge of the drape with one finger to peer out. The headlights cut out again, but the rumble of a running engine continues.
“They’re just parking,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest to quell the anxious budding of my nipples. I need him back here, now.
“Did you say it was a gray van that you were being forced into?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Do you know what make?”
“Dodge Caravan. I know because we used to have one, my mom and dad.”
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
“Get your clothes on. Grab Mason and go into the bathroom. Don’t turn on the light.”
Oh. My. God. What is he saying? Bullet-guy is here? How could that be? His words strike my heart cold. I’m not about to argue. I hitch up my partly-removed underwear and scoop Mason from the bed, blanket and all. I nearly stumble over my purse and Mason’s diaper bag and get down on the floor in the bathroom, feeling for my jeans still in a lump by the shower.
I hear noises from outside, footsteps, and see shadows pass across the stripe of dim light between the drapes. I hear Levi slip the chain on the deadbolt and his feet striding across the carpet toward us. “We’re leaving,” he hisses, entering the bathroom and silently closing the door.
“How?” I say, fastening the button on my jeans and gathering Mason in my arms.
“The bathroom window. My truck is about twenty yards away; we should be able to walk behind the building most of the way.” Moonlight filters in through the trees behind the motel, silhouetting Levi as he slides the window pane up and out, as though removing it for spring cleaning. The opening is probably about two feet square. He sets the frame gently on the floor next to the toilet. “You go first,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “I’ll hand you the baby, and I’ll go last. Hurry.”