17
Kayla
After washing the dirt off our skin and out of our hair as best we could, we turn to stare at the motel bed. Sleeping handcuffed to another person—at least when there’s no kinky stuff involved—is just plain awkward.
“So I guess I’m taking the left side of the bed?” Daren says, nodding at his cuffed left wrist as we stand facing the bed.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and curse this whole day under my breath. “Well you could… but I’m a belly sleeper.”
He blinks. “A what?”
“A belly sleeper,” I say. “I sleep on my stomach, not my back.”
“Well I guess tonight, you’re going to have to sleep on your back.”
I merrily suggest, “Or you can just sleep on your stomach.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not something I do.”
“Ah, but it’s something you could do.” I smile sweetly.
“Hmm.” He rubs his chin. “I’m not used to having this kind of problem when I’m sleeping with a girl. Usually the only thing up for debate is who gets to be on top first—”
“Ew.”
He shrugs. “I’m just saying. These are uncharted waters for me.”
I turn to him. “You mean to tell me no other girl has ever asked you to take a certain side of the bed or sleep a certain way?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a girlfriend?”
“Meh,” he says. “I don’t really do the ‘girlfriend’ thing.”
“Another guy afraid of commitment. Shocking,” I mutter. “Listen. I’m a girl, handcuffed to a guy, in a dirty motel room. Can you please just be cool about this and sleep on the right side of the bed on your stomach?”
He groans. “Fine.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “Now turn around so I can change into my pajamas.”
With a loud sigh, he turns around while I yank a pair of sleep shorts from my suitcase and kick off my dirty heels. I’m definitely wearing my sneakers tomorrow.
There’s no way to take my shirt off completely, given that we’re cuffed together, so I just pull my skirt off and slip my shorts on. Our handcuffs clang with my movements and, as I pull my shorts up over my hips, the side of Daren’s hand grazes my leg. Hot desire darts between my thighs and the muscles low in my belly tighten. I see his lips curl up in a smile.
“Try not to be so happy about all this,” I say.
His smile grows. “Too late.”
I roll my eyes and straighten the shorts. “Okay, I’m done. You can turn around now.”
He turns and looks me over. “Cute.” Then he starts unbuttoning his jeans.
“What are you doing?”
He says, “Oh. Well I didn’t have time to run home and pack my jammies so tonight I’m sleeping in my undies.”
The thought of Daren lying next to me in his underwear all night just makes my belly tighten even more.
I trap his hands at the waist of his jeans. “Uh-uh.” I bore my eyes into his. “Your pants are staying on tonight.”
A tiny voice inside my head protests, No! Take his pants off. Take everything off, and my throat goes dry. Why am I so lust-driven around Daren?
Maybe it’s not him. Maybe I just really need to get laid. When’s the last time I had sex? Or rather, when’s the last time I had good sex?
I frown. It’s been a long time, if ever, really.
My eyes fall to Daren’s lips, tracing the shape, and I wish I could be his tongue and play in his mouth.
A long, long time.
Snap out of it, Kayla. You will not be a horndog while chained to this arrogant—yet astoundingly pretty—boy.
Daren’s mouth falls open. “But I hate sleeping in jeans.”
“And I hate changing in front of strangers. I guess neither of us gets to have their way.”
“For the love of God.” His eyes grow wide. “We. Are. Not. Strangers.”
“Aw…” I smile mockingly. “It’s so sweet how you want to be my friend.”
“That’s it. We’re kissing again. Come here.” He reaches for me.
I lean away with a smirk. “Fat chance. Now button up your pants and let’s go to bed.”
He flashes his dimple. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear a girl say to me.”
“God. You’re so freaking proud of your sex life, aren’t you?” I turn off the lamp, throwing us into darkness save for the orange light glowing in through the window, and follow him to the bed.
“Actually, I am,” he says, sounding sincere. “I’m kind of a stud in the sack.”
He pulls back the gross comforter and climbs onto the sheets, sliding over to the right side. If he weren’t acting so conceited, I would probably thank him.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a ‘legendary lover,’ ” I say, sounding bored as I crawl in after him. “Every guy says that.”
We lie down as far away from each other as possible, him on his back, me on my tummy, with our cuffed arms stretched between us.
“Yeah,” he says. “But I’m actually telling the truth.”
“Right.”
“It’s one of the few things I’m actually good at.” He pauses. “The only thing, actually.”
There’s something almost sad in his voice and it confuses me. Most guys sound like proud pricks when they talk about their sexual skills. But Daren sort of sounds… wistful.