“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
“Fine.” I tighten my legs together, so he can’t get any closer.
“So that’s the way it’s going to be?” He grins wickedly, then pins my arms above my head and dips his lips beside my ear. “I was thinking about how nice it was going to feel inside you without a condom on.”
I shake my head, but let my legs fall open and I collide my lips into his. Keeping my arms trapped, he nips my bottom lip with his teeth as he thrusts inside me and my entire body ignites with ecstasy.
He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose. “Fuck, Ella…” His eyes open and he rocks in me.
Sweat beads our skin as our bodies conform together. Cupping the back of his head, I pull his lips against mine, take his lip ring into my mouth, and explore it with the tip of my tongue. My legs squeeze around his hips as he keeps pumping inside me and I let out a blissful moan. My head tips back as I lose it again and Micha begins to slow down until he finally stills.
We’re panting and heat radiates off our bodies. He brushes my hair away from my damp forehead and looks me in the eyes. It feels like there’s something he wants to say, something meaningful, but instead he just kisses my forehead and grins. “Ten more minutes and I’m back in the game.”
Two hours later, we are fully dressed again and driving to the club to catch up with Lila and the band. It’s after midnight, but the town is alive. Cars line the road, people walk up the sidewalks, and lights shine against the night.
After Micha begged me for five minutes straight to let him drive, I finally surrendered and handed over the keys, but only after he swore not to drive like a crazy person.
He throttles the gas anyway and rips the tires against the asphalt as he floors the car onto the main road.
“You promised.” I stab a finger at him. “Behave.”
“This thing’s weak,” he says, pleased. “What’s it got under the hood?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I didn’t look. I was too busy trying to get here to see you.”
He reaches over the console and places his hand on my thigh, bringing warmth between my legs. “Come on. You know you want to let me see how fast it can go. And then afterward, we can pull over and you can take all that excitement out on me in the backseat.”
“You are ridiculously horny,” I tell him, smiling. “But I’m sure you know that.”
“I do,” he says simply, halting at a stoplight. The red glow illuminates the cab. “I’m on the fucking road, away from you all the time… it’s becoming a real problem.”
Panic strangles me as I think of him being far away in New York surrounded by women who would probably happily take care of his problem. I exhale gradually, so he won’t hear the unsteadiness of my breathing.
“Hey.” He strokes my inner thigh with his thumb as the light turns green. “I know what you’re thinking and you need to relax. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I smile, but it doesn’t feel real. People never mean to do things that are hurtful, yet sometimes it just happens, through an intense moment, through brief rationalization, or by simply speaking words that only belong inside one’s head.
Or simply by giving up for a second.
People hurt each other all the time.
Micha
Ella has a wandering mind by the time we pull up to the club, but so do I. I’m not sure if her surprise visit was a good thing or a bad thing because it’ll make it harder to leave when morning comes around.
It turns out that only Naomi, Chase, and Lila are at the club. Dylan left with the hostess, but no one really seems to know where to—or they just don’t care.
There’s some really cheesy music playing in the background and a woman wearing red boots and a cowgirl hat is dancing in front of an old guy, trying to seduce him, but she’s drunk and keeps falling down.
An instant tension builds at the table once we sit down. Lila targets Ella with a heavy look and mouths bitch while nodding her head at Naomi.
I raise an eyebrow, glancing between Ella and Lila. While Naomi’s distracted with Chase, Lila leans over the table and shields the side of her face with her hand. “Remind me to tell you a lovely little story later.”
It’s hard not to roll my eyes at the silliness. “Should we order an appetizer or something?”
“We already did,” Naomi snaps, shooting me a dirty look. “And we ordered drinks, but neither has been brought out yet.”
I hold my hands up in front of me and lift my eyebrows. “Okay, sorry for asking.”
She practically snarls at me and I wonder if a catfight broke out between Lila and her. “Well, I’m getting annoyed with the crappy service.”
I drape my arm around Ella’s shoulder and whisper in her ear, “What are you looking at?”
She jumps, startled, and turns her head toward me. “It was nothing. I was just dazing off.”
I track the direction she was looking, to an old couple cuddled up together in a booth. They’re a little bit rough around the edges, like they’ve had one too many road trips across the country on their Harleys.
“Why were you staring at the old couple?” I play with her hair.
She shakes her head promptly. “I wasn’t.”
I stare at her lip as she nibbles on it nervously, but decide to let whatever she’s been weird about go for now, not wanting to ruin the one night we get together for the next month.
Ella
For some reason, I find myself staring at an old couple and picturing what it would be like if Micha and I were still together at that age. The man feeds the woman a bite of his food and she leans over to give him a kiss. It’s fascinating watching them because my parents were never that affectionate with each other.
The more I think about it, the more my nerves own me. I can’t see Micha and me together, old and sitting at a table, feeding each other—I can’t see anything.
Micha is concerned about me, like he always is when I’m acting like a weirdo. I focus on the conversation, nodding my head, even though I have no idea what’s going on.
When we’re leaving, Lila seizes my elbow and rips me away from Micha’s grasp.
“What are you doing?” I say, stumbling to keep up with her as she tows me around the corner of the brick restaurant and into the smoking area. It’s dark and the air feels a little damp compared to Vegas’ dry heat.
“That Naomi is a bitch.” She waves her finger as she talks.
My eyebrows furrow as I check to make sure no one is listening to us at the corner of the building. “Why? What did she do to you?”
“She didn’t do anything to me.” She crosses her arms and her face reddens with anger. “She said stuff about you.”
“Like what?”
“That you mess with Micha’s head. That you’re no good for him.”
My jaw drops. “She said that to you?”
“No, but I overheard her.” He eyes wander to a group of guys standing by the corner observing us. “She thought I was in the bathroom, but I was coming back and I heard her talking to that Chase dude, who by the way is so hot.”
“The one with a lot of tattoos and with a Mohawk thing going on?” I ask and she nods. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
She shrugs and then quickly shakes her head. “That’s beside the point. I think Naomi wants Micha, and I don’t trust her.”
“We’ve gone over this a thousand times.” I hold my breath as a guy with a cigarette walks by and blows smoke in our direction. “I trust him.”
“I think you’re making a mistake.” She picks some mascara off her eyelashes. “I think you should ask him to quit the band.”
“No way, I would never do that to him,” I say, appalled.
“It’s your call,” she replies. “But I’m saying I smell trouble.”
“Yo, Ella May!” Micha hollers from the corner of the building and Lila and my gazes dart to him. “What are you doing?”
I glance at Lila. “Thanks for worrying about me, but it’ll be okay.”
She sighs and we walk over to Micha, who’s waiting for me with his hand extended. “Is something wrong?”
I stare into his eyes, glimmering with happiness. “No, everything’s great.”
Micha
Usually, everyone in the band crashes in the same room. Naomi takes one of the beds and the rest of us flip a coin to see who gets the other. Tonight, I get an extra room so Ella and I can have more time together.
After some charming persuading on my part, I convince Lila to sleep in the same room as the band. She doesn’t seem too thrilled about it though, since Dylan won’t stop bothering her.
Once we’re alone, Ella flops down on the bed and drapes her arm over her head. “I’m exhausted. What time is it?”
I glance down at the leather-banded watch on my wrist. “Almost three o’clock.”
“Really?” She props up on her elbows. “Do you always stay up this late?”
“Usually.” I unfasten my watch and slip off my boots, prowling toward her. “And I’m good for a few more hours at least.” I shuck off my shirt, climb onto the bed, and cover her body with mine. Her fingers trace my stomach muscles and the black cursive font of the tattoo on my ribs.
“I’ll always be with you, inside and out,” she reads. “Through hard times and helpless ones, through love, through doubt.”
I lean back a little, bring her hand to my mouth, and gently kiss her palm. “You know I wrote that for you.”
“No, you didn’t.” Her eyelids flutter as I breathe on the sensitive spot of her wrist. “You wrote that when you were, like, sixteen.”
“Actually fifteen.” I release her hand and lie down on top of her, supporting my weight with my arms. “I remember sitting down to write it and the only inspiration I had was your sad eyes—I couldn’t get them out of my head.”
