Take You Away: A Novella by Ember Casey Page B

as Louisa seems to. And for what? Shit, she’s an angel compared to me.
    "I got some snacks," I say. I hand over my bag of purchases. She takes it without looking me in the eye.
    But I watch her as she sifts through the bag, and then there it is—the lift of her eyebrows, the sudden smile. She glances up at me.
    "Pork rinds and beef jerky?" she says, laughing. "You sure know how to treat a lady, don’t you?"
    Jesus, it’s amazing what her laughter can do to me. The need for a smoke, the urge to knock out that guy in the convenience store, my own guilt at bringing her to a place like this—all fade at that beautiful sound.
    "There’s some chocolate in there, too," I tell her.
    "Oh, and root beer." She flashes a grin that makes my chest tighten all over again.
    That’s right. This is why I’m doing this. To see that smile. Jesus, I’m fucking whipped.
    For the moment, at least, she’s managed to forget about all the crap she’s running from. All the crap we’re running from. Because try as I might, I can’t ignore the fact that I’m running from something, too. If I ever see my biological father again, it’ll be too soon. That bastard can kiss my ass.
    "Do you want the chocolate or the pork rinds?" Louisa says, holding them both up. "Or should we go really crazy and mix them?"
    And there it is—that little spark of mischief in her eyes that always seems to wake something inside of me. The spark a good girl gets when she’s drinking a bottle of expensive stolen wine. Or as she’s drawing dicks on a picture of Edward Carolson. The spark that shows me, just for a second, the real her. The girl not weighed down by guilt and shadows.
    I lean forward and take her face in my hands.
    "I think we should go crazy," I say. And then I kiss her.
    Her mouth is like warm caramel. Sweet and soft. But her kiss is like a shot of nicotine straight into my bloodstream. It’s addictive.
    She makes a sound like a sigh against my mouth. Her hands move to my neck and she tugs me closer. She’s never been shy about what she wants. I don’t know any man who can resist that sort of unapologetic hunger.
    I yank her against me. Her body molds to mine, ready and eager, and my blood burns. My cock strains against my jeans, already ready to go. Her fingers slip beneath my shirt. She’s like a siren, wrapping her magic slowly around me. Dragging me under. Making me forget everything else.
    Her hands slide up my back, and they leave twin trails of heat. I could take her right now. In the front seat of this car. I want to. I want to tear off her clothes and sink into her and take both of us far away. To that place where there’s only need and pleasure and those intoxicating sounds she makes when I’m deep inside of her. Fuck, I want her.
    Until I remember the guy in the convenience store.
    I’d have sex in front of an audience any day, but there’s no way I’m letting that old creep see Louisa. Protectiveness flares up in me, and that's enough to make me pull back.
    "Not here," I say. My eyes flick over to the attendant. Her gaze follows. She sits back, though I can tell she’s as disappointed as I am at having to stop. Her cheeks are flushed as she tugs her shirt back down.
    "Is there a motel nearby?" she asks. "It’s late and you've been driving all day." When her eyes slide back to me, they still have that glimmer of mischief in them. When she looks at me like that, I’d do anything for her.
    Frankly, I have no idea if there’s a motel nearby. But dammit, I’d sell my soul to find one right now.
    Fortunately, it’s only three more exits on the highway before we see something. Just a beat up old place called the Sands Motel—which is funny because we’re at least three hours from the nearest beach—but it’ll do. And who knows when and if we’ll find something better.
    Turns out, the Sands Motel is even shittier than the gas station. I didn’t think that was possible, but the minute I steer Ol’ Stella into the lot, I