9
Damien
After eighteen hours of driving, my eyes felt like they were on fire, trying to fight off the need to sleep. Not even the four energy drinks and two coffees I’ve had are making a difference.
My head was pounding rather unpleasantly. I glance over at Ezra, who was sound asleep in the passenger seat.
After her meltdown, it seems she’s worn herself out. We were currently driving through Nebraska; I look at my satellite navigation and saw a motel was coming up in two miles. I need to get my head down for a couple of hours, have a shower before we do this for another eighteen hours. I see the motel up ahead and pull in.
Praying they have a room available; I park up and push the button killing the engine. I leave Ezra asleep in the car and step out quietly to not wake her. I glance around and tuck my gun in my jeans and cover it with my t-shirt as I scan the area to ensure we weren’t tailed. Once I was satisfied that the coast was clear, I walk through the automatic doors to the reception.
“Good Evening, Sir.”
“I need a room for the night,” I tell the boy at reception. He nods politely and looks down at his computer, types before looking up at me again.
“We have availability. Would you like to pay by cash or card?”
I keep my eyes on the car as he speaks to me. “Cash.”
“Alrighty. That will be seventy-five dollars, sir.” I dropped a couple of hundred-dollar bills on the desk and glared at him. “Name?”
“John Smith.” I place my hand on the desk and lean in close. “You never saw me. We were never here. Understood?” The boy looks at me apprehensively but nods swiftly and hands me a keycard.
“Um, your room is down the corridor on the far left. Room number nine.” I take the key card and walk out to the car. I move over to the passenger side and open the door and lean in. I shake Ezra. “Wake up.” She jolts up, bewildered, and looks up at me.
“What? Where—” She blinks, pressing her fingers to her forehead and shaking her head. “Where are we?” She mumbles as she climbs out of the car. I close the door, walk around the car to the boot, and tug it open. I pulled out the duffle bag along with Ezra’s overnight bag and closed it again.
“Nebraska.” Ezra rubs her eyes tiredly and sighs. “Come on.” We walk into the motel. I do a quick sweep of the reception and notice the security cameras and fire exit at the building's back. I tug Ezra close to me. I hear her gasp when I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she instantly stiffens as we walk to the room.
“What are you doing?” Ezra asks, peering up at me with a frown on her face.
“Cameras” I feel her shoulders relax as we near the room. I unlock the door, and she walks in and looks around the room as I close and lock it. I was further into the room and drop the bag. Ezra watches me move over to the window and check the area is secure.
“Um, there’s one bed.” I turn and see she’s pointing at the double bed in the center of the room and watching me as I move around the room. I tug my gun out and look over at her and shrug indifferently.
“Yes. And?” She glares at me.
“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”
I slide the magazine from my gun and check it was full before I glide it back in again and set it on the bedside table. “Okay. Then don’t.” I answer and pull my shirt up over my head and toss it aside.
I was too fucking tired, and my body is aching to deal with her shit. My head was thumping painfully. Any more of her defiance, I may just be enticed to shoot her and put an end to this entire headache. I tug the covers back, get into the bed, and sigh. I hit the light switch, and the room goes dark. Oh yes. Sleep. I close my eyes and hug the pillow, but I can sense Ezra just standing there, and it was winding me up. “Ezra, get in the fucking bed.”
Silence.
I sigh and get out of bed. I move over to her. I can just about make out her silhouette with the moonlight filtering through the curtains. I pick her up, she shrieks, and I walk over to the bed and drop her on it. “Goddamn it, Damien!” I grab hold of her hands and pin her down under my body. She stills, and I can feel the warmth of her breath on my face.
“I’m at my wits end with you and your shit. When I tell you to do something, you do it,” I growl.
“I’m not your fucking puppet. You can’t just manhandle and order me around. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy standing between you and a morgue sweetheart. Keep defying me, and that will change fast. You saw yourself what I’m capable of. Do you think it’s wise to be testing me?” I tell her gravely, and she remains silent. “If you don’t want to be manhandled and want to be treated as an adult fucking act like it and do as your told,” I suggest, and she squirms beneath me.
“Get off of me.” Ezra hisses hotly, and I smirk when I notice her breathing quickens. Oh, how I wish the light were on so I could see the fire in her eyes right now. Lucky for her, I wasn’t in the mood to play. I roll off and lay back on the bed while she puts a pillow between us as a barrier, all the while muttering under her breath before she lays down and scoots to the edge of the bed with her back to me. I finally allow my eyes to close and allow sleep to take me.
* * *
I’m not entirelysure where or how to even begin to explain what happened next. Now, I’ve heard of this happening, and it’s called Sexsomnia—or sleep sex, but it has never happened to me before now. It was around two in the morning. I was having a dream, an absurdly realistic erotic dream, one where Ezra was spread out on my bed, screaming, begging me to take her and my God did I take her.