Page 10 of Blood Money

CHAPTER THREE

CARMEN

When I pull up to the motel, I’m a little skeptical. I understand not every place will be lush and extravagant, but this place is a literal shithole. The parking lot is riddled with potholes and trash, the paint is chipping off every surface of the building, and the lights flicker and buzz like they’re about to go out. Even more reason to turn the fuck around and forget about Stallion and his devil dog, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Something about his short replies and the almost promise of danger has me stepping out of my car.

I need this, and even more, I want it. A distraction and thrill—it’s too perfect to turn away.

At first, I was offended this random stranger offered me money to sleep with him, but thinking about it on the drive here made me realize this is just another way to spite my dad. I don’t need him, or his company, or his money.

My stomach turns with anticipation and excitement as I start up the steps to the second floor. I run my hand along the metal banister, chipping off more of the cheap black paint as I go. The buzzing of the neon sign above gets louder the higher I get, and every nerve in my body flips to high alert.

When I make it to the room he said he would be in, I raise my hand to knock. I let my fist hang in the air, giving myself one last split second to turn around, to really weigh the options in front of me.

Fuck it.

My fist connects with the wood three times, then falls back to my side. Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes seem to pass by like hours before the door finally opens. It’s dark inside with only a dim, yellow glow coming from the cracked bathroom door behind him, but I can still see him.

I can’t make out his face and features too well, but his body matches the picture, along with the sandy hair on top of his head. Taut muscles beg me to touch them, or at least I think so, so I do. I reach a shaky hand out and run my fingertips over the stranger’s stomach.

The light brushing of hair tickles and sends a chill down my spine.

“Come in.” His voice is low, demanding, and deep.

He steps back, severing the connection of my hand on him, then moves to the side. I grip the purse around my shoulder in my palm just to have something to touch, then walk inside the dark room as he closes the door. I try to survey my surroundings, but it’s a moot point. Everything is cloaked in darkness.

He moves behind me and flips on a lamp. It does almost nothing to illuminate the room, but it’s enough for me to get a decent look at his face. Square jaw, amber eyes, dimples.

Oh, fuck. Dimples.

He moves to the small table across the room and sits, then motions for me to do the same. “Let’s talk.”

I groan internally. Talking is not what I want to do. “I thought we did enough talking already,” I remark, sitting in the chair. The split vinyl scrapes the bare skin on the back of my thighs, forcing me to readjust constantly.

He shakes his head and settles further into his seat. “We did minimal talking. You don’t even know what I’m asking from you.”

I cross my hands over my chest. “A quick fuck, right? No strings.”

“No. There is more to it than that.” He grins, and I swear it makes the panties under my shorts melt.

I try to hide my surprise and growing excitement. What kind of fuck buddy requires a conversation beforehand? “Okay. Elaborate, then,” I say, waving my hand in his direction.

“I like… games. To chase my prey.”

I raise a brow with the shake of my head before standing. “Yeah…” I deadpan. “It’s a no from me.”

I make it back to the door before his voice rings out again. “You didn’t even let me explain.”

I suck in a deep breath, then turn back to face him. “No explanation is needed. I don’t want to be chased through some run-down motel by some stranger.”

He smiles again, letting his dimples distract me, then stands. Slowly, he stalks toward me, sizing me up, examining me. I can feel him penetrating the shield I put in place to protect myself—to be careful. I’m not sure why, but I don’t move. I can’t. His stare paralyzes me and turns my feet into cement blocks. I’m frozen, and I’m not sure if it’s from fear or excitement.

As he stops in front of me, the air changes. I feel constricted by his presence, but I still can’t bring myself to move. “You came here for a reason. You’re searching for something, yet you don’t even know what it is, do you?” His head tips as he looks into my eyes.

A sea of amber consumes my every thought as I stare right back at him. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. What are you running from, little spitfire?”

I snap myself from his hypnosis. “Clearly not you,” I spit back, lacing every word with sarcasm.

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