Hijacked

Chapter Fourteen

Emily just looked at him then looked down at the floor, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she did. "Don't say things if you don't mean them," she said softly, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously.

"I do mean it."

She looked at him accusingly, but when her eyes met his impossibly bright and too-blue ones, she stopped. He seemed sincere.

"You really are," he said as she came and sat next to him, making sure to sit about a foot away. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" he asked, his voice soft.

"My brother and my gay best friend." She smiled wryly. "But they're family, they have to say that."

"I don't."

"I know." She looked at him and then looked down again. "I'm not, but thank you." She motioned to the food bags. "I hope you approve." she said, breaking the spell and changing the subject for her own sanity.

She hadn't felt pretty in years and she'd never really felt beautiful in her entire life. She wasn't used to positive male attention, and she wasn't used to attention from males who looked like him. Men like him tended to look through her and pass over her, and she was okay with that. She wasn't the kind of woman they would bother putting any time or effort into and it didn't bother her anymore.

More than a few men had used her low self-esteem to try and get what they wanted from her, figuring she'd be easy prey because she'd be desperate. For the most part she'd figured them out and managed to stay ahead of their games.

Tom didn't seem to be preying on her, and he certainly didn't seem as if he was lying to manipulate her. He seemed genuine and sincere, and that confused her.

Looking at him was making her body tighten and her mind move into fantasy zones. Him telling her that she was beautiful made her wonder if maybe he found her as attractive and desirable as she found him.

They'd already been intimate, but they'd been in a car and the space had determined what they could do. Now they were sitting on a bed together, and all she could think about was him throwing her down and fucking her.

He nodded and reached down to pull the bags over. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded, grateful that he went along with her subject change. They worked out a way to get everything set up on the bed so they could eat without making too much of a mess.

They ate silently, concentrating because of the lack of table, not to mention dishes or cutlery. When they were done she cleaned up and they sat, unsure of what to do with themselves now that there was nothing to do.

The motel room was a lot bigger than her car and they could move around all they wanted, but strangely it was more awkward and more confining in the room than it had been in the car.

"Tell me what happened today," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Again trying to shift her thoughts away from the bed they were sitting on, and what they could be doing on the bed.

He looked at her and then nodded. He moved to sit on the chair near the window and she sat across from him on the bed. She was glad he'd moved. Now they could comfortably face each other and she could try to focus on his words and not on his body.

"It was a setup and a triple cross," he said after a slight pause.

"I don't understand."

"I know, I barely do myself."

"Who was the guy, the body, whatever, on the cot?"

"Mike."

"And the guy that almost killed us both?"