Page 88 of Sunday Morning
“Well, you’d better get in the truck before I embarrass you again.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t embarrassed.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.” I crossed my arms over my chest as he opened my door and set the bag on the floor.
“Are you sure?” he asked, shutting the door.
Before I could lie a second time, he took three strides, grabbed my face, and kissed me a lot harder than he did in the gas station.
Tongue.
A tiny moan.
Then he turned me without releasing my lips. My backside hit the bumper. He wedged one leg between mine, and his left hand slid down my neck and chest until he had my breast cupped, giving it a hard squeeze.
I knew with certainty that someone was going to report us for something like public indecency, and my parentswould get a call from jail. When he released my mouth, I gasped.
“Do you like how I feel between your legs?” he asked with his lips at my ear.
My mouth dried up with panic.
Isaac didn’t give me a fair chance to respond before he abandoned me. He climbed into the driver’s side while I kept one hand on his truck to navigate my wobbly knees to my door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
STEVIE NICKS, “TALK TO ME”
Isaac unlocked our motel room.It wasn’t anything fancy, but I didn’t care because we were in Nashville. He held the door, nodding for me to step inside.
This was happening.
“Two beds.” I dumped my backpack on the end of the bed closest to the window. “I guess you understood me after all.” I tried to hide my nerves with feigned confidence and flirty grins.
Truth?
I was disappointed there were two beds. Even if I didn’t want to have sex, I wanted to sleep next to him.
Isaac set his bag and guitar on the other bed. “I play at nine, so we have time to get lunch and find you something towear.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I glanced down at my knee-length denim shorts and Keds.
“We’re in Nashville. I’m playing at a bar, not a nursing home.”
My jaw dropped. “W-what the heck? That’s not nice.”
Isaac lifted a single eyebrow, stepped into the bathroom, and pushed the door, but it didn’t completely shut. He was peeing, which meant he just whipped it out. I could have stepped a little closer and peeked through the crack to see his penis.
“I only have a hundred dollars with me, so I can’t buy anything too expensive,” I said after he flushed the toilet.
“We’ll work something out,” he said, opening the door before fully zipping his jeans. I couldn’t see anything, but I still averted my gaze.
“Uh, working things out feels like you’re suggesting I give you something if I can’t afford the clothes, and that makes me feel like a prostitute, so maybe not phrase it like that.” I wrung my hands out in front of me.
I wassoexcited to be in Nashville with Isaac, but the reality of leaving my family—lying to them—and being away from home for three days with a hundred dollars in my purse and a man who scared me to death (in a good way) started to sink in.
He shut off the faucet and dried his hands. “I think you’re missing my humor.” Sitting on the end of his bed, he reached for my wrist and pulled me between his spread knees. “I’m going to rest my hands beside me.” He released me and did just that. “And you’re going to touch me wherever you want, however you want. It doesn’t have to be sexual.”