Page 61 of The Break Down

But I don’t make him wait. I don’t punish him like I should for making me so damn crazy.

Instead, I lick my lips, then say, “Find us a hotel.”

He blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Then his lips curl into something dark and satisfied as he peels down the highway and turns into the first decent looking hotel we come across.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Red?” he asks, turning to me as he pulls into an empty spot.

He’s not smiling anymore. Not teasing.

I’m looking straight at him. My eyes clear, my pulse steady, and I reply, “Oh, I’m ready, number eight. I just hope you can keep up with me.”

Hotel Room – 12:47 AM

The room is quiet when we step inside, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound as the door clicks shut behind us.

Koa doesn’t speak.

Neither do I.

Not at first.

We’re bothbuzzing.

Strung tight from hours, no, it’s more like days of want, of words unspoken, of hands held back by the thin thread of restraint.

His eyes flick over the room, then back to me, slow and hungry.

Two queen beds. Crisp white linens. A wide mirror above the dresser.

He locks the door.

And turns to me.

The heat in his gaze has weight.

I feel iteverywhere.

My chest rises, breathing shallow. My thighs press together on instinct.

“Take your trainers off,” he says.

His voice is low.

Rough.

Commanding.

My fingers move before I consciously tell them to.

I kick off my sneakers, one after the other, my heart jack hammering in my chest.

“Now your top.”

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