by Debra Kayn
"Hey," she whispered, relieved to have him here.
His gaze softened, and he stood. She approached him, standing close enough to touch and stared up at him waiting for him to say something.
"Hey, sweetheart." He leaned closer and kissed her forehead.
His larger body filled her room, and she leaned toward him. God, she'd missed him.
"You stayed," she said.
He chuckled. "Did you think I wouldn't stick with my promise to take you back to Seattle with me?"
She nodded. Having never known a man to keep his word, she was ecstatic that Dawson came through for her. "I brought you a piece of cake. Well, Tiff handed it to me so you could have some, too."
"Yeah?" He grinned, taking the plate from her. "What's the occasion?"
"My farewell dinner at Red Light," she said, turning to sit on the bed and spotted two unfamiliar suitcases sitting to the left of the door.
She balanced her plate on her knees and smiled over at him taking the first bite of cake. A million flutters warmed her stomach. He was here. Tomorrow, she no longer had to work for the Network, and she'd start a new life, one where she completely supported herself outside the sex trade.
Chapter Seventeen
The last dessert crumb fell off Dawson's fork and landed on his shirt. He picked the minuscule crumb of cake off the front of him and brushed his hands off over the plate. Aware of Roni staring at him and ignoring her cake, he gave her time to relax around him again.
It'd taken everything he had to stay away from her the last two days. He wanted her to be sure she wanted to leave with him, and by the sight of her bare room and the excitement when she came through the door, he was pretty damn sure she hadn't changed her mind and would be sitting in his car come morning.
The worst case scenario would be she felt forced and upon arriving in Seattle she ran. Within the inner city, she'd get caught back in the trap that held her there the first time, living in homeless shelters and vulnerable to every pimp around. He'd keep that from happening, and if she ran, he'd follow.
"I thought I'd spend the night here and that way we can take off about four o'clock in the morning. We can make a straight run west and should be able to reach Seattle around one o'clock. That gives us time to stop and eat, plus use the rest areas to stretch our legs. It shouldn't take us more than eight hours if the roads are clear and the weather holds out." He walked over and put his garbage in the wastebasket.
She handed him her plate when he offered to throw it away. "How is the weather? You said we have to be careful on the pass?"
"Yeah, there's two of them. The Fourth of July Pass in Idaho and the Cascades in Washington. From what I've heard, the interstate is plowed as long as the snow stays gone. Once we get over the mountains, it should just be rain. I looked up the weather for Seattle last night, and it's hovering around fifty degrees and rain." He sat back down in the chair. "We should get to sleep soon, so we're rested."
"I'll brush my teeth and change my clothes." She stood and paused. "Did you need to take a shower or anything before we go?"
"I grabbed one at the hotel before I checked out and came over here." He latched his hands behind his head. "When you get in bed, I'll take my turn in the bathroom and brush my teeth."
She frowned. "Do you have your toothbrush?"
"Yeah." He stifled his laughter. "In my suitcase."
She exhaled. "Okay, cause the thought of you putting my toothbrush in your mouth grosses me out."
"Really?" No longer able to hold his amusement in, he grinned.
The moment she realized they'd already kissed and had his tongue in her mouth—and she'd tongued him back— she blushed. He lifted his chin toward the bathroom. "Go on. Your toothbrush will be safe."
She bit her lip to keep from smiling and walked into the bathroom. The door shut, and he dropped his chin to his chest. His hope that he'd lose interest in her over the two days he'd stayed away and could better stick to his plan to help her start over in a safe environment was shot all to hell. His balls ached at seeing her and how the hell had he expected to get sleep tonight before a long drive tomorrow with her in the bed.
He ran his hands over his face. He'd fucked up again, putting his needs to see her, be with her, before anything else. All he wanted to do was lay down beside her and make sure she slept.
The first thing he'd do in the morning was stop and get some coffee. He was going to need all the caffeine he could get if he planned to drive across two states in a day.
The door opened, and Roni stepped into the room wearing a baggy Seattle Seahawks T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with a rip in the knee. He'd seen her in the same outfit several times, and his dick reacted as if on cue.
He stood, giving much-needed room to his hardening cock. While she climbed in bed, he opened up the smaller of his two suitcases and removed his toothbrush and toothpaste. A glimpse of Roni snuggled under the covers on her side with only her head laying on the pillow detoured him from the bathroom.
He stopped beside the bed, leaned over, and smoothed the hair back off her forehead and gave her a kiss on her brow. "Night, sweetheart."
"Night," she whispered.
Afraid to linger and crawl under the covers with her, he forced himself to walk away.
"Dawson?" she said, stopping him.
He turned.
"I left my container of Lifesavers on the counter. Can you bring them out when you're done in the bathroom?"
"Sure." He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, smelled his armpits, and ran his hands through his hair.
Even his reflection in the mirror appeared tense. He shook his hands at his sides, stretched his neck, and washed his hands and face in warm water hoping he could relax enough to sleep a few hours.
The mints sat on the counter beside her toothbrush, paste, and a container of floss. He dried his hands, opened the top of the container, and popped one in his mouth. Then he grabbed the Lifesavers and paused, changing his mind. If he was going to put himself through hell tonight, he might as well enjoy himself.
He plucked one ring-like mint out, closed the package, and exited the bathroom.
Roni propped her head up on her hand. He walked over to her side of the bed.
"Open," he said.
She glanced from his eyes to his hand and back to his eyes and opened her mouth. He set the Lifesaver on her tongue and almost groaned at the warmth coming from her mouth and the soft brush of her lower lip against his finger.
"Anything else?" he asked.
She shook her head and watching him walk around the bed to the light switch. In the dark, he sat down on the edge of the bed, took off his boots, and laid on top of the bedspread.
Several minutes went by without either of them saying a word. He continued to think about her warmth, her lips, her trust and hated himself for the direction his thoughts went. She wanted to escape using her mouth for a living, and he tried harder than hell not to think about her in a sexual way and failed.
"Dawson?" she said.
"Yeah?"
"What just happened...you're not going to change your mind about taking me with you tomorrow, are you?"
One of the bravest women he'd ever met, and she had no idea what he went through keeping his hands to himself. He closed his eyes. "No."
"Good." She exhaled softly. "Thank you."
He counted to fifty forward and backward. His dick remained hard. And, his heart softened.
There was no way he'd leave without her.
Chapter Eighteen
The snow on the side of the interstate grew less and less common until patches of drab winter grass filled the scenery outside Dawson's car. Roni looked in the side mirror at the white-covered mountains they'd left behind. While working for the Network, she'd had the pleasure of flying to four different destinations and besides the car trip from the airport to the bordello, she'd never been on a road trip.
A road trip with a man.
A road trip with a man w
ho she was sexually aware of sitting beside her.
Having never left Seattle growing up, she walked anywhere she needed to go and on the odd times she needed to go far, she used public transportation. The need to get a driver's license never made sense to her when traffic was a pain to deal with, and she could get where she needed to go faster by bus. Besides, being homeless during the years when others her age were buying their first car, she lived in a shelter and barely had enough food to keep her alive.
Though seeing the different landscapes, the mountains, the farmland, she envied Dawson's ability to get in his car and drive forever. And, she enjoyed being with him, even during the long stretches when neither one of them spoke.
Dawson flipped the turn signal on. "We'll stop here and use the rest area."
She grabbed the armrest. In all her planning, she figured they'd drive straight through from starting point to end point. So far, Dawson had stopped and got coffee—she'd stayed in the car. Now he wanted to stop again.
She shifted on the seat. A bathroom break was needed. Normally not a big coffee drinker, she'd drank two large cups before they made it out of Idaho and into Washington. She blamed the need to have something in her mouth—hence the drinking—to keep herself from overdosing on the Lifesavers stored in her purse.
At least ten semi-trucks lined the back lot behind the restrooms. The urge to pee intensified and she looked at the crowd of people at the entrance. She wasn't ready to leave the car and deal with strangers yet. Single men traveling and truckers lonely on the road posed a problem.
"Maybe we should wait until the next rest stop," said Roni. "This one is crowded."
Dawson pulled into a parking spot next to the dogs on lease area. "It's not too bad, and I need to get out and get some fresh air."
She turned to study him. "You're tired?"
"Tired of sitting." He patted her leg. "Let's go get in line."
The outside air noticeably warmer than in Federal, she left her coat unzipped and walked beside Dawson to stand in line in front of the restrooms. The men stared and ogled her.
She stepped closer to Dawson. There were too many of them for Dawson to protect her if they ganged up on him.
"Sweetheart, the ladies room doesn't have a line," whispered Dawson, slipping his keychain in her hand. "Go on. If you finish first, you can hop in the car if you want or stick around out here and stretch your legs."
"I can wait until you go in." She caught an appreciative grin from a man with a belly that hung over his jeans. "I'll keep you company."
Bad things happened in public restrooms. She'd had her share of confrontations with pimps who scouted the KeyArena, bus terminal, and airport bathrooms looking for females who needed help and scared enough they'd hold the hand of the first man who offered to make their life better. She'd made that mistake before and barely escaped.
Dawson gazed behind her into the parking lot. "Uh, you better get a move on it."
She followed his gaze back out to the parking lot. A double tiered bus pulled up to the curb taking up at least eight parking spots.
"If my guess is right, that bus is loaded with about thirty senior citizens." Dawson turned back around and stepped closer to the men's bathroom door as the line moved forward.
"Old people?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She definitely could go to the bathroom by herself knowing a bunch of elderly women would soon be joining her. "I'll be right back."
She hurried into the bathroom and shut the door. Looking under each stall door for feet, she picked the closest one next to the sinks and locked herself inside. Relief came instantly with the sound of raised female voices in the concrete room. She finished going to the bathroom and went out and washed her hands. The long line of older women continued out the doorway.
Outside, she caught sight of the back of Dawson's coat slipping inside the men's room. Not wanting to stand outside by herself, she jogged over to the car and opened the door with the keys Dawson gave her. In the safety of the vehicle, she rubbed her chilled hands together.
How was she going to look for a job and mingle with people if every situation put her at a disadvantage? There were men everywhere. It was bad enough when she lived on the street. Working at Red Light gave her an inside look at the minds of the most normal men. Husbands, miners, businessmen, truckers, and even a mayor sought sexual favors from the bordello.
Every man had a dark soul fed by their sexual desires. Some hid it better than others.
Dawson walked toward the car carrying two paper coffee cups. She greedily watched him, finding comfort when he was near. He seemed to be the one man who put everything out in the open.
He touched her a lot. He also softened his voice, his hands, his face when around her, and she understood he flirted with her at times. But, more importantly, she'd learned he had control of his sexual needs.
She believed he still wanted her, but something stopped him from doing anything about it. Or, the fact she was a prostitute ultimately turned him off. She hadn't figured which one kept him from trying to have sex with her.
He sat down in the driver's seat, put his coffee in the holder and handed her one. "Keys?"
She handed his keyring to him, letting her hand linger on his longer than necessary.
"Thanks." He smiled at her and started the car.
Nothing.
No awareness of her touch or reaction at her attempt to flirt with him.
For how much sexual awareness Dawson gave her, she might as well be his sister. She sank back in the passenger seat and belted up. That's exactly what she was to him in a roundabout way. He was here to honor his word to Jacqueline.
God, she'd never thought to meet a truly good man in her lifetime. It was her bad luck that had her wanting something more with him. If she felt nothing, maybe she could appreciate the kind of man Dawson was and stop psycho-analyzing what turns him off about her.
Back on the interstate, she propped her elbow on the door and stared out at the flat fields. She yawned and enjoyed the rolling motion of riding in the car, knowing as long as she stayed inside, she'd be safe. Her worries would begin when they arrived in Seattle, and she had to figure out how to move on with her life with no customers, no man to support her.
If only she could live in limbo. On a private island.
She sighed, fogging up a four-inch circle on the window. Dawson could stay with her on the St. Roni Island of Solitude. Without any women around, he'd eventually cave and need a release from his buildup of excess testosterone. Maybe.
"Are you getting hungry?" asked Dawson, interrupting her daydream.
"I'm okay." She looked out the front of the windshield. "Where are we?"
"Almost to the Columbia River Gorge." He glanced at her. "Ever seen it?"
She shook her head. The whole world remained a mystery, and yet she'd seen more things than any one person should have to see.
"Look up ahead. Over on the right." Dawson pointed.
She gazed outside at the small rock cropping. As Dawson drove, she got a view of a large river deep in the canyon. "It's how I imagine the Grand Canyon."
"Not as big, but it's impressive." He slowed down around the curve and drove over a bridge. "We'll stop in about twenty minutes and grab something to eat. We can always get something to take with us on the road and that way we don't have to stop again for a meal. I should've planned better and bought some snacks at the store before we left."
"It's okay. I don't eat much, and it's only an eight-hour trip," she said.
"You might not need food, but I'm starving." He chuckled.
She lowered her gaze to his stomach. Underneath his shirt, he packed a solid, hard body. If he had fat on him, he hid it behind muscles.
"Hey..." He glanced from her to the road. "Are you okay?"
She practically rolled her eyes. He caught her looking at him and thought something was wrong.
How wrong he was. She leaned forward and picked up her purse by her feet, r
etrieved a Lifesaver and popped it in her mouth. "No, nothing is wrong."
He never questioned her again. She continued watching the scenery go by, counting the white slashes painted in the middle of the road, and curiously examined the license plates of vehicles that passed them in the left lane of the interstate.
To keep her fingernails out of her mouth, she ate three more mints and never offered Dawson one. He probably never even noticed.
Chapter Nineteen
The waitress brought the check for Dawson and Roni's late breakfast. Dawson eyed the half eaten plate of pancakes across the table. She'd been too caught up in watching everyone else in the restaurant and him, she hadn't had time to eat.
"Sweetheart?" He leaned forward. "You haven't eaten enough to keep yourself alive."
She laid her fork on her plate. "Dawson, I'm half your size. Trust me. I'm not going to wither away and die on you."
His gaze dropped to her breasts. She was right. Though slim, she had plenty of padding in the important areas.
"Oh, I didn't mean anything by that," she whispered, covering her cheeks. "I'm sorry."
He snapped his gaze off her body. The sadness in her eyes brought him back to the conversation.
She glanced at the table full of people beside them. "It was inconsiderate of me to joke about...you know."
He reached over and held his hand, palm up, on the table. She placed her hand in his.
"I wasn't thinking about my sister, Roni. You don't have to be afraid to say what's on your mind." He gave her a half grin. "I also know you're not close to starving, so we're good, yeah?"
She squeezed his hand. "Two more bites, and that's all I can eat."
"Six pancakes too much for you?" He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach.
"This early in the day? Yes." She put a bite in her mouth.
