15. Sequin

15

SEQUIN

W e do stop. Not to have sex, but to get gas. I pretend the Jeep needs fuel, even though Slade can easily see that I still have half a tank left. Escaping the car and his scent isn’t as much of a relief as I thought it would be. I surreptitiously adjust my rock-hard erection and remind myself that Slade is Chime’s alpha dad. Fucking around with him will make things complicated, and she doesn’t deserve that.

After I get gas pumping into the car, I pull out my phone and text Silver.

Hey, would you mind taking Chime to a movie in about an hour? Or anything that would get her out of the house for a while.

He responds immediately.

Sure. Is everything okay?

There have been many times when I’ve wished that I’d told Silver what really happened between me and Slade. Out of all my brothers, I think he would have handled it best.

I text him back.

Everything is fine. I just need to talk to Mom about something sensitive.

He sends a question mark, which is fair. That’s a vague explanation.

I’ll tell you about it later, okay?

Next, I text my omega mom.

Could I come over in about an hour? I have something I want to talk to you about.

Guilt churns in my gut as I realize how devastated she’ll be that I’ve gone six years without telling her I put my paws on someone.

She sends a smiley emoji. Sure thing. See you in a bit.

Now I just need to get through the next hour of sitting in a car with Slade.

The pump stops, and I go through the motions of putting it back and screwing the lid back on the tank. In the corner of my eye, I see bright red letters spelling out the word MOTEL above the building next to the gas station. Damn it, I didn’t notice that was there. The possibilities flood my body with excitement. I have money. I could pay for a room. If Slade and I agreed the sex came with no strings attached, maybe it would be okay.

I feel a tell-tale wetness between my asscheeks. What is wrong with me?

I climb back into the Jeep. Slade watches me with obvious interest. His nostrils flare when I close the door. He can smell my slick.

“Quin,” he whispers.

Every inch of my body aches to touch him, to surrender to this need pulsing through my veins. This is madness. Just an hour ago I was afraid of Slade and what Sciff might have done to him. Now I’m throwing all caution to the wind to lock myself in a room with him?

“We can’t,” I say.

Slade’s whole body tenses. For a moment, I wonder if this is the moment I’ll see the violence in him surface. But he just turns away from me to look out the window.

Why do I feel disappointed? Did I want him to ravish me right here in the parking lot of the gas station?

Maybe. God, that’s messed up.

“There’s a motel next door,” I tell him.

His head jerks up—not to look at the motel, but at me. He stares at me with rapt attention, his body tense. I glance down at the bulge in the front of his jeans. He clearly wants me too.

“We’re both adults, right?” I say. “We could do it just this one time. Get it out of our system.”

He nods carefully. I think he’s holding his breath. We can’t spend another hour like this.

I start the car. For a moment, I consider driving away and trying to white knuckle it all the way to my moms’ house. For all I know, having sex with Slade will only make whatever unresolved connection we have worse. But the horrible truth is, I don’t care.

I’ve yearned for Slade for six whole years, and I don’t want to hold myself back anymore.

The motel parking lot is cracked and uneven, the lines designating the boundary of each parking space too faded to make out. I park a reasonable distance from a rusted truck and kill the engine. Slade watches me closely as I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for the door.

“Do you want to do this?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, but he still doesn’t move. “I just don’t have any money yet. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was planning on paying.”

Besides, this motel won’t cost much if the rooms are anything like the parking lot.

Just before I climb out of the car, I open the center console and pull out the stash of condoms Aunt Emerald keeps there “just in case.” I was slightly annoyed when she told me about them, but now I’m grateful.

The last thing I need is another surprise pregnancy.

I slide a few condoms in my back pocket and join Slade outside. Now that we’re standing side-by-side, I have to crane my neck to look up at him. I remember when we were in high school, his size used to make me feel overwhelmed. Now everything about him makes me feel that way. My heart races as I realize how close we are to making love again. Or how close we are to having sex. This isn’t love.

Slade opens the door and steps aside for me to enter first. I brush past him and feel the warmth of his chest against my arm. My skin tingles from the contact.

An older man sits behind a tall counter in the office. The walls are covered in dark paneling, and the carpet is a dark green. This place certainly isn’t the Ritz. I approach his desk.

“We, uh, need a room.”

The man glances at me, then Slade. “For an hour or the night?”

This is the kind of place people can rent by the hour? I wonder how clean the rooms are.

“Um, how much is it?” I ask.

“Forty for an hour, a hundred-twenty for the night.”

A hundred and twenty dollars? I was hoping I could swing the cost of a night to avoid the embarrassment of renting a room by the hour, but I guess not.

“Just an hour then,” I say, digging in my back pocket for my wallet. I hand him my debit card. The man barely glances at me before taking it. I guess he’s used to this.

He hands me back my card and a key ring with a wooden keychain labeled #3. “Bring this back in an hour, or I’ll have to charge you extra.”

I take it from him and hurry out of the office. That was mortifying. I feel the warmth of Slade’s hand on the small of my back as I we walk down the crumbly sidewalk toward the numbered doors. My skin lights up under his touch, and my embarrassment fades away.

Door number three is a little scuffed, but opens easily enough. The room inside has the same dark paneling and green carpet as the office. Slade pushes the door closed and turns to me. He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at me with hunger in his eyes.

I should be afraid of him. He could snap me in half if he wanted, and he’s killed a man before. Hell, he’s spent half a decade with the most dangerous criminals in Texas. But he slides his fingers through my hair so gently, I remember why I never believed Silver when he insisted that Slade was dangerous all those years ago.

Slade’s words from a few minutes ago echo in my head: I’ve never hit someone who didn’t hit me first, Quin. Not ever .

Fate help me, but I want to believe him.