It was a good thing they’d been in a car parked on a city street. If they’d been anywhere remotely private, there would’ve been no stopping. The tension and touching would’ve grown hot and feverish, turning volcanic, until they were both ready to explode, their bodies demanding a release.
Arousing, erotic, enthrallingly rough images flooded her mind.
Crap. What the hell did this mean?
Did she really want to know?
Nope. Then she’d have to deal with it, which meant making a mess of things. Better to pretend it had never happened. Though it had, and she’d never forget it for as long as she lived.
“What’s up?” Aiden asked.
“Huh?”
“You were shaking your head and then you were nodding at something.”
“Oh, was I?” She cleared her throat, struggling for composure. “I was just thinking about bed. For sex. I mean sleep. For sleeping,” she said again, emphasizing the word with her hand. “It’s been a long day. I’m so exhausted that I’m delirious. I don’t know what I’m saying. We need to find a hotel.”
“Okay.” He gave her a weird look. “Should be easy enough.”
They chose a hotel on the outskirts of the French Quarter. A large, busy place with a heavy flow of tourists, but not surrounded by too much noise.
It was within walking distance of restaurants, shops of all kind and the Windfall Casino.
They parked in the hotel’s garage. Aiden carried their one bag.
Walking up to the check-in desk, she realized they didn’t have basic toiletries. Or pajamas. They’d have to sleep naked in the same room.
A hot rush of panic shot through her, stilling her.
Aiden’s hand went to the small of her back and he ushered her forward.
The clerk welcomed them with a smile. “Good evening.”
“We’d like to get a room,” Aiden said.
“How many nights?”
Aiden looked at her and she shrugged. Edgar had been gone almost twelve hours. He had another sixty to live, tops, if he was lucky.
“Two nights,” Aiden said. “A room away from the ice machine and near the stairs.”
They didn’t need the noise of the machine, or a reason for anyone to loiter near their room, and it was always good to be close to a second exit.
Charlie set the borrowed credit card on the counter.
“I’d prefer to leave cash to cover any incidentals,” Aiden said, surprising her at first.
On the chance Priscilla Johnson decided to report it stolen, order a new one and keep the fifteen hundred without worrying about the bill, it could put them in an awkward situation. Not to mention it’d give the hotel a reason to call the police.
Cash was best.
“No problem,” the clerk said. “For cash, we require two hundred and fifty dollars to cover any phone calls, the minibar and pay-per-view charges. If you order room service, you’ll have to pay the waitstaff when they deliver it.”
Aiden dug out enough bills from his wad of hundreds to cover the two-night stay plus incidentals. In return, the clerk handed them two key cards.
They swung by the mini-mart in the lobby, grabbed toiletries and got in the elevator.
She only meant to give Aiden’s reflection in the shiny steel wall a quick glance, but her eyes lingered. On his strong jaw. His dark T-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. His hard muscles. Those legs that looked incredible in a pair of shorts, sexier filling out jeans. Probably best with nothing on at all.
And man, he could kiss. She had wanted to lose herself in the confident, demanding way he’d owned her mouth with so much passion, melting her protective barrier of ice into a puddle of desire. If that was how he kissed, how did he do other things?
A sensation she couldn’t name exploded through her. Stronger than lust. Animalistic and primitive. And she needed to shake it off quick.
With a ding, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened to the fourth floor. They found their room at the end of the hall. He opened the door, letting her in ahead of him.
She entered, taking in the spacious room, and froze.
There was one king-size bed.
“I can go change the room to a double,” Aiden said.
Always the gentleman, never wanting to put her in a compromising position that other men would’ve orchestrated.
Deep down, she didn’t know what she wanted. She’d fantasized about making love with Aiden more times than she could count on her fingers and toes combined. They were as close as two people could be without sleeping together. But in her experience, sex had a way of spoiling things. She’d do anything not to ruin their relationship.
Aiden was the only good thing in her life.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I still have to stitch you up and it’s almost three in the morning.” They were both grown-ups and could handle sharing a bed.
Naked?
Maybe they’d have to sleep in their clothes.
“Why don’t you shower first,” Aiden said, and she nodded.
In the bathroom, she was relieved to find plush robes and slippers. The velvet-soft cotton would be much nicer to sleep in than her jeans.
Aiden knocked on the door. “Do you want me to order room service?”
I have one hell of an appetite. “No. I’m fine.” She was starving, but it was her growing hunger for him that worried her. The last thing they needed was to lounge on the bed in robes, with nothing on beneath, eating and talking, having a drink from the minibar. It was a recipe for trouble. Hot, sweaty, naked trouble. “I’d rather hit the hay sooner, wake up earlier and have a monster-sized breakfast, if that’s okay with you.”
He didn’t respond right away. Then he said, “All right.”
She brushed her teeth and hurried through her shower, washing her hair. After towel-drying, she threw on her robe, tying the belt in a knot to prevent any mishaps, and went into the bedroom. She avoided eye contact with him and headed for the bag sitting on the dresser.
“Bathroom is all yours. As soon as you’re done, I’ll stitch you up and then we can go to sleep,” she said, enunciating the last word slowly.
Although sex, not sleep, was at the forefront of her mind and her sensitive spots were in cahoots, ready for action. Ridiculous hormones.
It didn’t help that she hadn’t had sex in more months than she’d cared to admit.
“Sure,” he said. The bathroom door shut behind him.
She relaxed, taking a breath.