Not Looking for Love: Episode 7 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) (7 page)

"We all regret it," Mike says. "But maybe it's time we started getting over it."

"Yeah."
 

He leaves the room, and I hear him throwing the dirty paper towels in the trash.

He comes back a few moments later, handing me a new bottle of beer. "Or do you want something stronger?"

I shake my head and take the beer, twist off the cap. What I want to do is leave, go see Gail, tell her the good news.

"After this Albanian job, we start moving the pieces into place," Mike says, and sits back down. "Then hopefully by New Year's Vlado will just be a distant and unpleasant memory."

"I thought you liked him," I say, taking a long swallow of beer.

"He had his moments, but he's way too volatile for my tastes," Mike says. "He's really hard to read."

As is Mike. The earlier euphoria brought by him saying I can see Gail again is fading fast, and I feel like I'm coming down from a coke high. Fear is twisting my stomach. What if all this is more payback? What if I find her dead in the hotel room? What if the next thing I know I'm strung up in Vlado's warehouse, having pieces of my flesh cut off because I dared plan against him?

"Wanna share a bit more of your plan?" I ask, but he shakes his head.
 

"Not right now. I have girls coming over," he says and gets up. "I'd ask you to stay, but you'll just say no."

I stare at him, unsure what to say. Does he want me to stay? Is he really letting me leave? I'm every bit as pitiful as he just accused me of being, I suddenly realize, but don't really care.

He chuckles, cinching his robe tighter. "Go, Scott. But don't do anything stupid like telling anyone what we talked about, or disappearing."

I get up before he can change his mind, draining the last of my beer. "I won't, Mike."

Something akin to love towards him is waking in me, and it's a weird feeling, since I haven't felt it in a long time. I don't want to stifle it, but I don't want to dwell on it either.

Because all the fear is back as soon as I'm in the elevator and I run more than a few red lights getting to Gail's hotel.
 

She hasn't called since we spoke just before I left for Mike's. And I'm too terrified to call her now, because she might not be able to pick up.

"That was quick," I say as I open the door to my hotel room.
 

But the rest of my thoughts on the subject whoosh away as Scott practically barges into the room, sweeps me into his arms and kisses me hard and wild. I forget to breathe, or maybe he's breathing for both of us, or we're breathing together. It's like I'm a thousand miles up, floating somewhere above the clouds, yet I've never been this firmly planted in the moment. I can hear every creak in the room, can smell the leather and wood and the clean starchy sheets, hear the elevators in the hall, people talking. But most of all I can feel Scott, smell him and taste him.
 

He's pushing my robe off my shoulders with one hand, the other tangled hopelessly in my hair. And I'm pushing his shirt up, his skin so soft and warm, and yet so hard under my fingertips. The moment I feel his naked skin against mine, I lose all awareness of everything else, the need to feel more of him, have him closer, inside me, consuming every last cell in my body.

It's like that awareness is transferred instantly to his mind too, or maybe we're just sharing thoughts, because the next thing I know, he lifts me up, carries me to the bed. It's such a fluid motion like this is exactly what we were created for. And the passion rising inside me is a tornado, swirling, growing, wiping out everything in its path. If I wanted to fight it, I couldn't.

He lays me on the bed, and it's hard to let go even if it is just for the instant it takes him to remove his shoes and pants. And then he's on top of me, his tongue in my mouth, his fingers playing with my clit, tracing slow circles, brushing against the special spot. But I want more, need more.
 

So I slide my hand into the space between us, run it along his hard cock, grab hold and position it right where I want it, where it needs to be.
 

It slides in easily, and I arch my back to greet it, the tornado of passion and heat inside me growing, expanding ever more dangerously. I wrap my arms around his neck, kiss him hungrily, concentrate on wrestling with his tongue to keep the explosion at bay. I don't recall the last time he took me with such passion, his thrusts long and sure, slow and steady, mixed in with hard, short and fast ones, as his finger explore every inch of my skin he can reach. His kiss is so deep, I could get lost in that alone. The night I found him in Alaska was almost as hot, but this passion, this devotion, this love engulfing us now is beyond even that. And I want to hold on to it for as long as I can, don't want it to ever end.

But it's inevitable. I scream as the tornado takes its last turn, exploding in billions of tiny licks of pleasure. As the orgasm shudders through me, I see Scott even though my eyes are closed. I can see both of us, enveloped in a reddish golden light on that plane in a different dimension where we are both always together. Forever.

"That was intense," he whispers and rolls, pulling me after him so I'm on top.
 

"Yes," I manage, though I'm not sure I actually spoke.

Then we just lie there, in silence, catching our breaths, until the sounds of the world slowly return, and I can see clearly again. The clarity brings doubts and fears back too, but for the moment they're still safely kept at bay by the soft web of pleasure we've spun.

Scott's stroking my bare back, his touch light as feathers.

"I just came from Mike’s," he says, and my heart starts racing, ripping through the flimsy shield.

"And?"
 

"And he says he won't hurt you," Scott says.

I rise with a gasp, searching his face for confirmation of what he just said. But there's a shadow in the cloudless sky of his eyes. Not what I want to see.

"He says you're safe if I help him with something," Scott elaborates, and the shadow grows darker.

"Can we trust it?" I manage, my throat so constricted my voice is all squeaky.

"Honestly, I don't know," Scott says and sits up too. I really wish he'd lie to me just this once, just tonight. Tell me that yes, there is nothing to worry about anymore, yes, we can be together forever.

"What do you mean?" I ask since he's just staring at me, concern etched into every line of his face.

"With all the shit he's done, I can't ever trust him again," Scott says. "But I'll take this for now. He knew we were seeing each other and didn't do anything about it. Or maybe he just suspected, I don't know. But the point is, he didn't try to hurt you. So maybe he is being honest."

I let hope flood my heart again.
 

"So for the next step," he says and smiles. "I think you should move in with me. I want to keep an eye on you."

My heart is summersaulting again, but in joy this time.
 

"When?"

"Now? Or in the morning?"

"Now," I say, already climbing off the bed. But he pulls me back, kisses me long and deep. I'm all lost again, a little afraid that I'm just dreaming, and I'll wake up alone in the hotel bed soon, none of this real.

I pack quickly, since I haven't really unpacked yet, then I'm checking out, and Scott's loading my suitcases into his car and I know I should maybe be asking more questions, since maybe I am in fact just dreaming, but if I am, I don't want to wake up. Ever.
 

"What's the thing he wants you to help him with?" I ask once we're driving, since I'll have to eventually.

"It's to do with…you know," he says, breaking hard to stop at a yellow light. "The less you know the better."

"Is it dangerous?" I ask, trying to catch his eye, but he's not letting me.

"I have no idea. Maybe," he mutters. I want him to lie, I wish he would. But we're both adults, I know that too, and we need to be facing the truth.

I lean back and lace my fingers together in my lap, watching the dark streets whizz by.
 

"Let's just cross that bridge when we get to it, Gail," Scott says and turns to me, but I can't peel my eyes away from the darkness. "OK? I don't want to antagonize Mike right now, and I don't want you to worry. I know what I'm doing."

"You mean when you…" I let my voice trail off.
 

"Yes," he says. "I've been stealing cars for a long time."

But it’s not just that anymore, he’s involved in an organized crime ring now. I don’t want to bring that up though. We’ve faced enough hard truths for one night.

"So Mike really did just want your help?" I murmur.

"Seems you were right about that, yeah," he says. "I hope it holds, and that this isn't just another one of his games."

"And after you help him, you'll walk away from everything?" I ask. It's the second burning question.

"I hope to," he says and casts me a glance, probably noticing my cringe. He reaches for my hands that are still balled up in my lap and squeezes. "I'll do everything I can to walk away."

And I know it for the promise that it is, for the truth, the best he can offer me. So I don't ask any more questions, don't let any more fears and doubts intrude. I'm certain now that this isn't just a dream, because the hard rock of reality is sitting in the pit of my stomach. But it isn't heavy enough to crush the love I feel for Scott. That love will find a way. It always has until now.

"Wow, this is an awesome apartment," Gail says as we enter. I shrug and carry her suitcases over to the sofa, wondering if all of it will even fit in the closet, or if she should even bother unpacking.
 

"Sure," I say. I want to leave this place as soon as I can. But I don't want to think about that right now. Any of it. I just want to enjoy this second chance we've been given, do my best to make it last.

I join her by the window and wrap my arms around her. She fits so perfectly into me, and I love the way her hands feel wrapped over mine, the way her soft hair tickles my chin, how her weight presses into me.
 

"I don't know if I could live here though,” she says, pointing at where the Twin Towers used to stand. “You can kind of feel the sadness, can't you?"

"We won't stay here for long, I hope," I say not wanting to dwell on any of that. "If nothing else it's starting to smell like some dive bar from Greg's smoking."

"Is he a new friend of yours?" she asks and the image of David's face flashes before my eyes, clearer than it's been in months. But even that hurt isn't enough to wipe away the contentment.

"I guess."

She has more questions, I can feel them in the air around us, but I think she knows it's better not to go dragging all that up yet. There'll be time enough later, unpleasantness always waits.

Ages later it seems, we finally make it to the bedroom. Anything could break the bubble of contentment enveloping us, and I think we both know it. So we just fall asleep in each other’s arms.
 

As I drift off, I'm kinda childishly hoping that everything will be alright tomorrow, that everything will work itself out and fall into place. But that hasn't happened for a long time and there's not much reason it will start now. Not with the Albanian job looming, and Mike's plan, which could all be bullshit designed to tie me even more tightly into this life.