Saving the Bride

by Kira Blakely

  We find a motel in a deserted alley behind a row of old shops a few miles from the city center.

  No CCTVs. No IDs required. No questions asked. No smiles from the receptionist, who’s a plump woman over forty, either. Chase hands her the cash and she hands him the keys. He tips his hat and we head upstairs.

  Our room is on the third floor, the stairs creaking with every step we take. The windows on each landing are covered in dust and a rat scurried into a hole in the corner.

  Thankfully, I’m a farm girl so rats don’t scare me. Well, they do in the sense that they make me worry about crops getting destroyed but not in the sense that they make me want to shriek and climb into the nearest chair.

  We reach the door to our room, two doors down from the stairs. Chase slips the key in and the door opens, revealing a room smaller than the barn he stayed in at the ranch, and as shabby.

  The brown carpet, probably beige once, is worn and has a few holes. The wallpaper with flowers is peeling off, some sheets already completely gone. A lone bulb hangs from the middle of the ceiling, flickering to life with a press of the switch. Even after a few minutes, it doesn’t get any brighter than the ones back at the stables.

  There’s a single bed in the room. Queen-sized. With a quilt and two white, fluffy pillows and hopefully, no bed bugs, though I doubt it. Beside it is a wooden nightstand with two drawers, a lamp, a clock, and a notepad with a pen clipped to it. Chase opens the first drawer, looking inside. It’s empty. He tries to open the second one but it stays shut, stuck.

  The only other pieces of furniture in the room are the wingback armchair in the corner with a matching footstool, and a small table by the window. Chase parts the curtains, taking a peek outside, only to close them again.

  I, in turn, examine the bathroom. It’s small but at least the blue tiles aren’t covered in mold and it has running water and the flush works. There’s a mirror over the sink, though it’s cracked, strips of masking tape barely concealing the fractures.

  I go back into the room.

  Chase packs stuff out of his bag and leaves them on the table by the window. Then he puts his backpack on.

  “Going somewhere?” I ask.

  I thought the reason we stopped by somewhere along the way to buy food was so that we wouldn’t have to leave the room once we got here.

  “I need to get some information,” he says, putting his sunglasses back on. “Need anything?”

  I shake my head.

  I don’t want him to go but I can’t say anything to stop him.

  He kisses my forehead and squeezes my shoulder. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  He walks out the door and is gone.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, sighing as I throw myself on top of it to stare at the greenish ceiling.

  Get some sleep, he says. But I don’t think I can sleep while he’s out there doing God knows what, not knowing if and when he’ll come back. At least, I think so.

  My eyelids get heavy, weighed down by the bone-deep exhaustion from yesterday’s events and a sleepless night. The bed, bedbugs or no bedbugs, feels soft beneath me as well and I sink into it, drifting off into oblivion.

  * * *

  I wake to a clap of thunder.

  I sit up, finding myself surrounded by darkness.

  At first, I think I’m in my bedroom back at the ranch but then my eyes adjust to the darkness, the outline of the closet across from me becomes visible. You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

  My memory slams back. I’m in a cheap motel room in Billings.

  Billings.

  Chase.

  I get off the bed as worry seizes me, grabbing the clock from the nightstand.

  It says 9: 28.

  It’s nighttime already?

  Unable to believe it, I walk to the window and part the curtains slightly so I can look outside. I can barely see anything, only the buildings in the distance, all lit up. A crack of lightning illuminates the pitch-black horizon.

  It is nighttime. Worse, it looks like it’s about to rain.

  I close the curtains and go back to the bed, sitting on its edge. I’ve slept for nearly ten hours?

  More importantly, where’s Chase? Why isn’t he here yet?

  Light spills out from under the bathroom door and I suck in a breath.

  Chase is here. He’s safe. Thank God.

  He comes out moments later, his hair damp and a towel around his waist. He catches sight of me, stops. “Lauren. You’re awake.”

  I stand up. “When did you get back?”

  “A few hours ago,” he replies.

  I wrap my arms around him, delighting in his after-bath scent, a mix of minty soap and spicy deodorant as well as toothpaste.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask against his still moist chest.

  “I didn’t see a reason to,” he answers, drying his hair. “Have you eaten?”

  I shake my head.

  He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “You should eat.”

  He turns on the lamp on the nightstand and goes over to the closet, taking the paper bag out of it.

  “You’ve eaten?” I ask him as I sit on the bed.

  “I did when I arrived.”

  He places the paper bag on the floor and rummages through its contents.

  “Sorry. I was hungry.”

  I shake my head. “That’s fine.”

  He takes a cup of noodles out of the bag. “Is chicken okay?”

  “Yup.”

  I catch the cup as he tosses it at me.

  “And sausages?” He lifts a can.

  I nod.

  He places the can on the table by the window and turns the electric kettle on.

  I wrap my hands around the cup of noodles. “So, how was your…?”

  I lift my finger, and circle it, searching for the right word.

  “It was fine,” he answers.

  I don’t press the subject. I’m only glad he came back in one piece.

  Another clap of thunder sounds in the distance.

  “It looks like it’s going to rain,” we both say at nearly the same time.

  I chuckle. “Yeah. I bet it’s already raining back at the ranch.”

  “Maybe. I hope Isaac is okay.”

  I stiffen at the mention of my father’s name then frown at the thought that he’s running around in the rain, checking on all the animals.

  “Hey.” Chase sits behind me, holding my hand. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

  I purse my lips. “Yeah. I’m sure he is. He’s got Smoke, after all. Smoke may be scared of firewood getting chopped but he’s not scared of thunder.”

  “Yeah. And I’ve seen how tough he can be.”

  The kettle pops, its light turning blue. Chase gets the cup of noodles from my hand and opens it, pouring water inside and then sealing it back.

  “Just give it a few minutes and it will be done.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Since when have you been an expert on cup noodles?”

  “There’s a bunch at the cabin since there’s no cook there and no delivery,” Chase answers, leaning on the wall.

  “And I guess cooking your own meals wasn’t an option?”

  Chase gives a chuckle.

  I trace the muscles of his chest and abdomen, the lines. I’m drawn to the ‘V’ which disappears beneath his towel. Blushing, I tear my gaze away.

  “Did you go to your house?” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “No,” he says. “But I found out a few things about James.”

  “You did?” I raise my eyebrows. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s missing,” Chase answers. “He hasn’t shown up to work nor has he come home.”

  “Shit,” the curse escapes my lips and I cover my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  Chase shakes his head. “I hope he’s fled somewhere safe, though I have a bad feeling about it, now more than ever.”

  I have the same, but I don’t say i
t out loud. “Your noodles should be ready now.”

  Chase opens the cup, wisps of steam rising up, and hands it to me. Then he fetches a pair of disposable chopsticks from the paper bag, handing them to me as well. I blow on the surface of the soup, feeling the heat seep through my fingers, the steam dampening my face. Chase opens the can of sausages and puts it in front of me.

  I eat a sausage first and then try the soup.

  “How is it?” Chase asks.

  “Not as good as the soup I make,” I blurt out.

  “Of course, not.” Chase sits on the chair in the corner, leaning forward on his knees. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I shake my head and try another sausage. “It’s fine. It’s… a new experience.”

  I continue eating while he watches me, saying nothing. I wipe the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “What?”

  He sits back, his eyes still on me. “Nothing. It’s that… you’re beautiful.”

  I cough. “Me? Beautiful? I just woke up. I haven’t combed my hair, and I haven’t had a bath. You must be delusional.”

  “Maybe.”

  I finish my noodles, slurping some, and then my sausages.

  When I look at him again, he’s fallen asleep on the chair, his mouth slightly open.

  He must be tired.

  I put away the trash and wash my hands and mouth in the bathroom. Then I stand in front of him, hands on my hips.

  Now, what? Carry him to bed or leave him on the chair?

  As I’m debating the topic, I stare at his eyelids, noticing for the first time how long his eyelashes are. My eyes go to the straight bridge of his nose, to his thin mustache, to his smooth lips.

  Just like that, I forget what I’ve been debating about, all my thoughts have flown away.

  I step forward, and bend over, my hand on the wall. I bring my face close to his. I can’t resist. I close my eyes and brush my lips against his.

  They remain still.

  I press my lips against them more firmly and, like the leaves on the surface of a pond, they tremble. The next thing I know, I’m on Chase’s lap, his arms around me. He kisses me back, fiercely.

  “You weren’t going to do something naughty while I was asleep, were you?” he asks me as he pulls away, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “No,” I answer, grinning. “Or maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  He lifts me in those strong arms, and I let out a squeal of delight. Chase carries me for a few strides and throws me onto the bed. He gets on top of me.

  He tickles my neck and stomach, and I giggle non-stop, try to thwart his attempts.

  “Stop!” I snicker, tears in my eyes. “I give up! I give up!”

  “Oh, do you?”

  I nod as I try to catch my breath, lifting my arms in a gesture of surrender.

  He stops, smiling at me. Then the corners of his mouth dip, his expression turning serious as he stares at me once more, his eyes piercing mine. The warmth in them, not scorching but gentle like the hearth on a cold winter’s day, lights the fire in my chest and takes my breath away.

  “Chase?” I whisper.

  He touches my cheek, his fingers soft as feathers.

  “What? Are you going to say I’m beautiful again? I still haven’t combed my hair, you know, or taken a bath or brushed my teeth.”

  “I don’t care.” He runs his finger over my lower lip. “You’re perfect as you are and I don’t want to forget any part of you.”

  My eyebrows bunch up above my nose. “Forget?”

  His lips descend on mine, and just like that, my worries are lost.

  His tongue slips through, brushing against the tip of mine. I open my mouth wider.

  He deepens the kiss.

  I place my hands in his hair, tugging at his curls as I moan into his mouth. He pulls away, breathless, and my hands slide down to his cheeks, my thumbs at the corners of his parted lips.

  “Since you surrendered, I can do anything I want, right?” he says, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief and promise.

  It’s a scary proposition, but I nod without hesitation. I let my arms fall to my sides. “I’m all yours.”

  Chase kisses me again, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth.

  He pulls away again, his fingers sweeping tendrils of my hair off my forehead to plant a kiss there. Then he kisses my twitching eyelids, one after the other, and the tip of my nose. Skipping my mouth that he’s already thoroughly tasted, his lips move on to my chin and then travel across my jawline toward my ear, licking the lobe and then taking it between his teeth.

  My body is on edge in anticipation of his sublimely wicked plans.

  Chase’s lips plant a reverent kiss on the soft patch of skin beneath my ear then slide down to my neck, above the neckline of my sweater. His hands grip the hem of my sweater and my blouse and I lift my back as he pulls them both off me at the same time.

  He picks up where he left off, nuzzling my neck and then kissing my shoulder. His lips graze my collarbone and stop right below it where he plants another kiss.

  His lips part, his mouth creates a vacuum over the patch of skin and sucks it in. I gasp.

  A prick of pain and I lift my head to witness what he’s done.

  “What’s that?” I ask, and finger the red mark.

  “A souvenir,” he says, licking the spot. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” I shake my head, then plop it down again. “Wait. You’re not going to suck my blood next, are you?”

  Chase chuckles. “No, but I’m going to suck a different part of you.”

  He unhooks my bra, pulls the garment off, flings it aside.

  His mouth takes one captive and my knee lifts, my toes digging into the quilt as my fingers clutch a handful of it. As he sucks, I bite my lips to hold back my moans, my eyes falling shut as the pleasure washes over me.

  When he frees my breast to let his tongue circle my engorged nipple, my moan spills out. He does the same with my other nipple and I’m lost.

  My breasts are wet, the air cooling them. And another part of me is getting wetter and hotter still.

  His fingers find the hook of my skirt and release it, pulling it down along with my soaked underwear. Now, I am completely naked beneath him and he kisses the soft curve of my belly.

  He parts my thighs, settling between them and as I become aware of his intentions, I lift my head, grabbing his shoulder.

  “I haven’t showered,” I say.

  He swats my arm away. “I don’t care. Like I said, you’re perfect.”

  My head falls back on the pillow, my back arching. I place my hand over my mouth but a moan escapes through my parted fingers.

  My other hand rests on the top of his head.

  He buries his face between my thighs. My fingers become entangled with his curls as his tongue slips in, pushing all the right buttons, stroking, teasing.

  He stops. He gets off the bed, standing beside it as he removes the knot of his towel, which now has a stain on the front, letting me know I’m not the only one leaking wet. It falls to the floor, creating a puddle around his feet.

  He’s naked beneath it, his cock curved up, the tip engorged and glistening, veins prominent. My mouth waters.

  Coming closer, Chase takes my hand and wraps my fingers around his cock, shivering and blowing out a gust of air as I stroke him, his eyelids falling shut. Then he lays down on the bed, pulling me on top of him.

  “Now, it’s your turn,” he says hoarsely.

  I straddle him. Placing one hand on his chest, I place the other around his cock and guide it inside me, moaning as it enters me.

  Once it’s completely sheathed inside me, I close my eyes to savor the sensation of being deeply connected with the man beneath me.

  I open them and meet half-lidded turquoise pools, the same warmth from earlier spilling from them.

  His cheeks are flushed and every now and then, they hollow as he lets out a strained breath. His lips form a circle. His fo
rehead gleams with a fresh layer of sweat.

  I wipe it off, then bend over to kiss him, my breasts pressed against his chest. Then I lean back, placing my hands on his legs and staring at the ceiling, my breasts sticking out. My hair cascades past my shoulders, swaying as I start moving my hips, dancing above Chase’s muscled body.

  I sneak a peek and catch him staring at me intently, his eyes dark. His hand cups one of my breasts. Then he reaches for my clit, fingertips grazing the exposed nub.

  I tremble but keep moving.

  His finger strokes me, rubbing against that sensitive bud even as his cock rubs against the depths of me, reaching spots I never knew existed and my body buzzes.

  Unimaginable pleasure. I’ll break for him. Come for him. Whatever he wants of me.

  I try to keep moving, to maintain my rhythm but I falter. My body quakes and then comes to a complete stop as I throw my head back and give in to the irresistible pleasure.

  Afterward, I slump forward, panting.

  He strokes my hair, kissing the top of my head. The tenderness is so sweet, too much for me.

  He takes some strands of my hair and brings them to his lips. His eyes glisten with unshed tears.

  He’s crying? Impossible. Chase is unbreakable.

  “I love you.” The words come out as a breathless whisper, almost like a prayer. He might as well have shouted them at the top of his lungs, though.

  H-he loves me?

  I don’t know why he’s crying but they must be tears of joy, the same which brim in my eyes. An indescribable amount of happiness erupts in my chest and spreads rapidly throughout my body - an explosive chain reaction of joy.

  He loves me. Chase loves me.

  And nothing else matters.

  “I love you, too.”

  I lower my lips to his. He meets me halfway, our tongues caressing and then clashing, his fingers becoming lost in my hair. His cock throbs inside me – we aren’t done.

  Filled with fresh vigor and excitement, I lift myself back up, placing my hands on his shoulders. As he moves his hips, I move mine, my eyes never leaving his. My breasts bounce.

  I put my heart and soul into my every move, allowing myself to be consumed with the rhythm and to lose myself to the inaudible music soaring through me.

  I rock my hips and roll my shoulders, then move my hips up and down. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and the friction between our bodies reignites the flames inside me.