Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,36

made minimal stops for bathroom breaks and by the time we were through, it was dark. I didn’t care. I just wanted sleep. I was exhausted, and we were doing it all over again the next day.

You can pretty much rinse and repeat for the next two or three days the same experience.

To his credit, Mav backed off when it came to fucking me those nights. I couldn’t tell if it was because he felt sorry for me, or if it was that he was just as exhausted as I was and couldn’t get it up if he tried.

I somehow doubted it was the latter. The man was, seemingly, always ready to go.

The one thing I wasn’t spared in the evenings was conversation as we fell asleep. I would lie beside him in the dark, his strong arms around me, the warmth of him radiating through my back pleasantly, and he would ask questions. Simple ones, but that was merely a ploy. I was onto him by the second night.

He would ask innocuous things to start. Small talk about things we had seen along the way before transitioning to talk of my past or my homelife. I was careful there, not to give him too much information… It’s not like I would have been believed anyway. That, and if Abuela knew I’d told any of the family business or secrets to an outsider? She was a vengeful, vindictive bitch and I couldn’t be certain she wouldn’t do something to Mateo in her rage.

I didn’t care what happened to me. I cared a lot about what happened to my brother. He was an innocent in all of this and deserved a chance to stay that way… unlike me. I would never be able to go back or pretend.

“Don’t much like it when you get all quiet like that, baby. Makes me think I said something to hurt you.”

His fingertips roamed over my skin in a light caress, following the natural curve of my ribs as they dipped into the hollow my profile made at the waist. He kept his hand traveling and I closed my eyes, the sensation of his skin on mine, moving to follow the flare of my hip, almost hypnotic in a way.

“No,” I denied his concern. “I was just thinking about Mateo. Wondering what he’s doing right now…”

“Mm,” he pressed a kiss to the cap of my shoulder, his arm up over me, hand pressed against my body, high up on my stomach, lightly holding me back against his body. I eased my tense posture and he smiled against my skin, lips curving against my shoulder. Pleased, but I didn’t know why.

“Why are you so smug?” I challenged lightly in a bid to change the subject.

“Not smug,” he whispered in my ear in a way that made me shudder. “Pleased.”

Pleased? What did I do?

His hand tightened on my hip, drawing me back even as his warmth along my spine dissipated as he edged further behind us both onto the bed to turn me on my back. It was becoming a familiar move of his, indicating his arousal, his want to fuck me – but by the same token, his touch while insistent, eager, wasn’t demanding.

The choice was always mine. If I said no, he would relinquish his hold on me. How did I know?

I’d begged off sex one night just to see if I had a choice or if, like so many things, it was an illusion. He’d quickly relented and had held me, but had otherwise let me be.

Now, I was curious. While I was exhausted, and we had one more day of riding to get to our destination, I was finding that I was starting to miss the delicious soreness he wrought between my thighs after a night of his absolutely mind-blowing brand of sex.

He lay over the top of me, the warmth of his body welcome, his mouth finding mine in the dark, air-conditioned hush of the roadside motel room.

I gasped as he deviated from my mouth, his lips and teeth lightly grazing and nipping that spot on the side of my neck that drove me wild.

“Mm,” he half groaned, half growled in appreciation when I arched my back, body bowing closer to him. “I love it when you arch for me like that, baby.”

“Yeah?” I asked softly.

“Mm-hmm,” he muttered against my skin, kissing his way down my body in that way that told me he was about to absolutely rock my world.

I loved