Chapter Seventeen
Jamie
Playing hooky had never felt so good.
It shouldn’t have. Skipping out on our responsibilities bordered on reckless. The things we were avoiding were literally life or death.
But wrapped up with Eric, it was easy to forget the world outside those four walls.
We’d already spent the morning tangled together, and I lay there now, loose and warm, my body pleasantly spent. I kept waiting for awkwardness to creep in, for that sharp reminder that this had been way too impulsive.
It never came. If anything, being with him felt easier the longer we stayed in bed.
How many more hours could we steal away?
Eric shifted beside me, his wide chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Despite the soreness between my legs, that simple movement sparked need all over again. The brush of his thigh against mine. The slow stretch of his arm above his head.
God, everything this man did turned me on.
Was this how addicts felt, always craving another hit?
Maybe it was the result of going without sex for so long. Or maybe this was simply what happened after being with Eric, experiencing intimacy the way it was meant to be.
My stomach growled loudly, cutting straight through my spiral of thoughts.
“Sounds like it’s time to feed you again.” Eric laughed and slid an arm around my waist, drawing me closer before kissing me, his smile lingering against my lips.
I kissed him back and swung my leg over his hip, fitting myself against him without hesitation. When our mouths finally broke apart, I murmured, “If I had to choose between food and sex, I’d probably starve.”
“Sex in general?” His hand trailed over the curve of my ass, igniting another wave of desire.
“Well, sex in general is nice, but ice cream usually wins that battle. No, I meant sex with you. In that case, Rocky Road doesn’t stand a chance.”
His grin spread wide, dimples flashing, blue eyes bright. That smile warmed me in a way that had nothing to do with lust. It reached deeper, pulling something tight inside my chest.
He shifted us smoothly, rolling me onto my back and settling between my thighs with quiet authority. He was hard again, and I couldn’t help the satisfied breath that left me.
“Luckily, no one’s making us choose.” He reached for a condom from the bedside table.
Unhurried, he rolled the condom on like it was a strip tease in reverse, before returning his focus to me. “You feel so fucking good.” He groaned, pushing into me.
“You do too. Amazing.” My breath hitched as he buried himself deep inside me.
“Let’s never leave this bed. Let’s just do this forever.”
Forever.
I’d thought it too, in passing. In reckless flashes. But hearing him say it out loud sent a jolt of panic running through me.
Forever meant always, and permanence was only a fantasy. Nothing ever lasted. Not family, not safety, not love. God, we weren’t even in a real relationship. We’d agreed no plans or promises.
This thing between us—fake or not—would eventually have to end.
“I don’t know about forever. But we’ve got today.” I pulled him closer, needing the weight of him, the certainty of this moment and nothing more.
“Fucking right we do.” His hips punched forward, his cock hitting deep. “Better make good use of the time.”
What was slow and steady turned urgent, almost defiant. Not frantic but driven. Like we were trying to outrun the ticking clock neither of us wanted to acknowledge.
His control didn’t disappear. If anything, it sharpened. Every movement was deliberate. Every glide of his cock, every stroke of his hand, intentional.
He wasn’t chasing his own release. He was focused on mine.
I tried to stretch it out, to savor it, but the build was relentless. And as the orgasm ripped through my body, I screamed.
“Fuck, yes,” Eric shouted.
His own release followed close behind, his breath ragged against my skin as he held me through the last of the tremors.
For a few suspended seconds, there was nothing but us. Heat, heartbeats, and the illusion that the world outside didn’t exist.
Then a door slammed somewhere nearby.
The spell cracked.
“I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses, Rick,” a woman’s voice snapped from just outside our door. “There’s always an excuse.”
“Sweet Pea, you know it’s not an excuse,” a man shot back, voice defensive and tired. “I didn’t get any sleep. What do you expect?”
“Once. Just once. I expect something other than disappointment. I want you to make me scream like the chick we heard this morning. You’ve never done that for me. She gets it three times in one damn day. Me? Not once.”
She stormed off down the hall, leaving her man, Rick, mumbling to himself about sleepless nights, men who used Viagra, and wives who watch too much reality TV.
I buried my face in Eric’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.
In my head, I pictured Rick standing outside our door, debating whether to knock and start a fight or ask for tips.
A few seconds later, footsteps shuffled past, and a low, irritated, “Thanks a lot, asshole,” carried through the wood.
“Oh my God,” I gasped between laughs. “Did that actually just happen? We’re absolutely getting kicked out.”
Eric was laughing too, with one arm draped over his eyes. “Relax. My family owns the place—remember? Poor bastard probably doesn’t even know who to complain to. I do feel a little guilty for making him look bad, though.”
“You make every man look bad.”
“If you keep saying shit like that, Jamie, I’m going to have no choice but to throw you down and prove myself all over again.”
“What? It’s a compliment. What on earth do you think you have left to prove?”
“I’m a man. There’s always something to prove.” The way he said it made heat curl through me.
“Save it for later.” I forced myself to sit up. “You wore me out. I’m going to feel this for a week.”
He watched me as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the humor fading from his expression. “Where are you going?”
“I need a shower.” I stretched carefully, my muscles protesting. “I plan to be fully clothed when the manager comes knocking. And you promised me breakfast.”
“I did?”
“Well, it was implied. Unless you plan on going naked, I suggest you hop in the shower with me.”
Eric seemed just as worn out as I felt. The cocky comments about proving himself disappeared the second we stepped under the hot spray.
We moved leisurely, not worrying about complaints being issued to hotel management. In fact, I wasn’t worried about anything.
Three rounds of sex. Two showers. One night wrapped up naked together. Somehow, it had reset me. The problems waiting outside that room hadn’t vanished, but they didn’t feel as suffocating anymore.
The only things missing from this perfect start to the day were coffee and Hunter’s smiling face.
I still missed him fiercely, but the panic had eased. It wasn’t the sharp, breathless fear it had been before. This was a week, not a lifetime. Parents sent their kids to camp for entire summers. I could survive a few days.
And if I was honest, the anxiety hadn’t been only about whether he needed me.
Hunter depended on me, yes. That was natural. But somewhere along the way, I’d started depending on him too. On his company. On the way our routines filled my days. He hadn’t just been my responsibility. He’d been my comfort. My only real friend.
That wasn’t fair to him. Or to me.
One day soon, he’d be a teenager with his own priorities. A life that didn’t revolve around his mom. I couldn’t cling to him as my only source of happiness and expect it to end well.
As risky and self-indulgent as it felt to want something beyond my obligation to my son, maybe it was necessary. Maybe taking care of myself didn’t have to distract from being a good mother.
Maybe it could make me a better one.
The shower left me clearheaded, steadier than I’d felt in days.
Eric and I moved around the room, gathering my things.
We completed the task in silence, oddly in sync.
He grabbed my razor and toothbrush from the bathroom, without me asking.
I glanced under the bed while he cleared the nightstand.
We worked side by side in quiet rhythm, no awkwardness, no missteps, just easy coordination.
It might’ve been melodramatic, but moving beyond that room felt like taking the next step—a step forward.
In the elevator, Eric slipped his hand into mine. His grip was warm, steady, and certain. He didn’t say anything about the future, didn’t make promises. He just held on. And I let him.
And yes, I was absolutely thinking about breakfast. I was starving.