She makes a little noise, and I kiss her deeper. Her mouth opens, and I slide my tongue against hers, tasting her sweetness.
She’s syrupy whiskey mixed with a hint of coffee.
Her arms are around my neck, and her soft breasts crush against my chest. Sliding my hands up her torso, I cup them through the fabric, squeezing them and circling my thumbs over the hardened tips. She moans, and my dick is an iron rod in my pants.
“God…” I lift my chin, and her lips move to my throat.
Her tongue slides along my skin, and I’m fighting. I want to fuck her. My whole body craves it, the satisfaction I know is waiting between her thighs. It would be so easy to lift her leg and plunge deep… again and again.
Her hand is on my waist, tugging at my shirt, and I catch it. “Wait.”
Her brows clench as she looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
Our eyes meet, and I’m hanging on by a thread. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” She leans up again, putting her hot mouth against my jaw. “I know you didn’t touch me last night when I was naked in your hotel room. I know you ran into danger to protect your brother. I know you’re fighting what’s happening right now…”
“You have no idea.”
Her lips are at my ear. “Haven’t you ever been reckless?”
My hands tighten on her shoulders, and Scout’s prediction is in my ear… when we get back, you’ll ask her to stay. No.
“I’m sorry.” I have too much unresolved shit to drag her into it.
The rod in my pants will have to take a rain check. I made this mistake once, and it almost broke me.
She blinks a few times, dropping her face into her hands and exhaling a frustrated noise. “I think I must be doing this wrong.”
Stepping away from her magnetic field, I shove my hands in the sides of my hair. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Trust me.”
Squinting up at me, she smiles. “Then what are you afraid of?”
“You’re going to wake up in the morning and realize this is not what you want.” Stepping back, I open the door. “And if it’s not then, it will be eight hours later, when we’re in Fireside.”
“I think you’re wrong.” Her chin lifts.
“I think you’re drunk, and you’re seeing what you want to see.”
“I’m not drunk, and I see you better than you see yourself.”
Shaking my head, I lean the passenger’s seat forward and climb in across from Scout, who has managed to get his arm over his head again and is roaring like a grizzly. “We could go on like this all night. I need to sleep.”
Hope stands for a moment with her hands on her hips then shakes her head, climbing into the front seat. I pull Scout’s arm down before rolling up my jacket and putting it on my brother’s hip, doing my best to get comfortable.
“Would you pass me my coat?” Her voice is soft and so tempting.
I’m a fucking pussy is what I am. I should’ve given her what she wanted. What we both wanted…
Swallowing the fire in my throat, I grab the teddy bear skin off the floorboard. “Lock the doors.”
She does it and rustles around in the front a few seconds before finally getting still. It’s quiet in the car. The noise of cicadas grows louder. I can hear the chirp of frogs, and I’m pretty sure a screech owl is mixed in there. I wonder if I’ll sleep.
I’m too pent up to sleep. The shot of whiskey only fueled the fire in my veins.
Rolling onto my back, I look out the window at the stars flickering through the tree branches.
“You awake?” Her voice is soft. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t wake me if I was asleep.
Still I hesitate.
“Yeah.” I finally respond—clearly, I can’t do what’s right.
“Tell me about your little boy.”
My chest warms. I close my eyes, and I see his towhead, his blue eyes.
“I don’t have much to tell. He was only three last time I saw him.” A fact that twists my stomach. What does he think of me now? What have they told him about where I am?
“He’s five now…” Her voice is thoughtful. “You must’ve been young when you had him.”
That makes me laugh softly. “Just finishing college. He was a surprise. The one time I was reckless.”
“Too bad for me.” A grin is in her voice.
“I like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“So tell me about him.”
We’re quiet a bit, and I picture my son. His sweet little voice and happy eyes relaxes the anger in my chest. It’s what used to get me through the nights in prison, thinking about the day when I’d be out and go home to him.
“People said he looked like me.” I’m a little embarrassed to sound so proud, like one of those doting parents that buttonhole you in the supermarket. “He was already a little bruiser. He loved to play football.”
“I bet he did.” Hope’s voice is warm and full of smiles.
It draws me to her, makes me want to climb up front and kiss her again. It makes me want to hold onto her.
Damn, this girl.
“I don’t remember what I looked like as a kid. I thought he looked like Scout.”
“You look alike. Haven’t you seen pictures?” I can’t see her face, but it sounds like she’s being sincere. “I’m sure he looks just like you.”
“I don’t know what he’s going to do when I see him.” My stomach is a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. I want him to be happy, but I worry he might be angry… Or afraid of me.
“He’s going to be so happy to see his dad. You’ll see.”
Tomorrow.
God, I can’t worry about it now. We’re almost home.
Closing my eyes, I think about holding Hope in my arms, pressing my lips against hers. She’s like a warm, dry blanket on a frigid, San Francisco day. She smells like warm coconut and fresh flowers, and her body is soft against mine.
She felt so good leaning into me, wanting so much more. I can’t decide if I’m an idiot or a wise man, but I know for certain next time it won’t be so easy to hold back.
Which is why there can’t be a next time. This is a road trip, not a romance.
Hell, it’s starting to sound like a mantra.
Hope
“So ultimately being a gay porn star was a good thing?” I bite off the end of a Red Vine.
Scout’s behind the wheel, not seeming too hungover after his whiskey binge last night. JR’s still asleep in the backseat, and I’ve been stealing glances, alternately reliving the intensity of his kiss, his hands on my body… and swooning over his adoration for his son.
“I mean, yeah.” Scout nods. “I learned being an ally means more than partying with gay guys at Mardi Gras or Halloween—or not being weirded out when a guy thinks I’m hot. It’s about stepping up when it’s inconvenient or awkward.”
“Basically, being a good human.” I tuck my windblown hair behind my ear. “That’s very evolved of you.”
“Maybe.” His lips press into a frown. “There’s also the other side, where being a gay porn star is a career killer. Any porn star, for that matter.”