Page 98 of Craving Francesca

All of a sudden, she shot up and propped her head on her hand. “Did you decide where we’re going?”

“What?”

“Where are we going today?”

I smiled and pushed the hair out of her face. “Thought we’d go out to the 101 and take it down the coast. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.” She smiled softly. “Now I just have to get out of bed.”

“I keep tellin’ you there’s no rush.”

“Check out time has to be soon,” she argued.

“It was at eleven,” I replied, wrapping an arm around her as she tried to jump off the bed. “I went in this morning and paid for late checkout.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Woulda been worth it even if we hadn’t ended up here. You needed the sleep.”

“It’s amazing what a full night of rest can do,” she replied, rolling onto her back as she stretched.

There were still circles under her eyes, but they weren’t as dark as they’d been the day before, and her face had lost the pinched look sometime after the hot springs and before she’d woken up this morning. Shit, how could it have been less than twenty-four hours since I’d seen her across the forecourt and lost my shit? I’d gone and done what I’d said I wouldn’t—started something before I knew she was ready.

“What’s that look for?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“You’ve had a lot of shit goin’ on,” I said slowly, sitting up. “Not sure what we’re doin’ is smart.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t regret it,” I clarified. “Just don’t know if it’s smart.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“I think I made that pretty fuckin’ clear.”

“Then I don’t see a problem,” she snapped. “If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t. If I didn’t want your dick in my mouth, it wouldn’t have been there. If I didn’t want to fuck you, same thing.”

“Okay.” I rose slowly to my feet and pulled the condom off, wrapping it in a tissue from the bedside table before tossing it in the small trashcan.

“You don’t get to decide when I’m ready.”

“Wasn’t tryin’ to.”

“I’ve wanted to be with you since that first night,” she spat. “It doesn’t have anything to do with what’s been going on back home.”

“I hear you.”

“Really?” she asked dubiously. “Because you’ve still got that fucking look on your face.”

“Not sure what look you’re talking about.”

“That,oh no, I made a mistakelook.”

“Don’t think it’s a mistake, baby,” I replied. “Just don’t want to do the wrong thing here.”

“The wrong thing would be assuming you know better than I do what I’m ready for. I’m a grown adult. I’ve been dealing with stressful shit, yes. I haven’t been taking good care of myself—I know that.” She crossed her arms over her bare chest. “That doesn’t mean that I’m broken or something.”

“I don’t think you’re broken.”

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