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Scene #29
"Good morning, Darlin'." He leaned down and kissed her right on the
mouth. Carla gave a fleeting thought to her morning breath as she
pressed back against the headboard and tucked the sheet snugly
under her arms. He looked even better this morning in the dimly lit
motel room than he had in the dark tavern last night. Short dark
hair damp from the shower, sexy beard stubble, powerful shoulders,
lean waist. The white towel hid the part of him that she knew was
also powerful. His employers should have put his picture in their
ad....oh God, how could she have... "Good morning." She tried
to smile, but her lips were trembling so she clamped them between
her teeth. "You alright?" His blue eyes studied her for a
moment. He tucked a stray brown lock behind her ear. "Oh, um,
yes. I'm fine. Uh, h- how are you?" Geez, Carla, you sound like an
idiot. You have a master's degree for God's sake. Get a hold of
yourself! He smiled. "I'm right fine this mornin, Miz Carla. I
wish I could crawl back in that bed with you. Unfortunately, I have
to get back to the Marriott. This is the last day of the
conference." He started gathering his clothes from where they were
flung last night. "I've got time to take you out for breakfast
though, if you hustle." Hustle? Conference? Breakfast? "You
want to pay for my breakfast?" Was that normal? Maybe he has an
expense account. He paused, stared at her a moment. "I don't
guess that diner across the way serves lobster and champagne, so I
think I can handle paying for breakfast. If we get a move on,
Darlin'. We need to talk." Carla stared as he pulled on his
jeans and reached for his white shirt. "Well, how do you want me to
p....uh, what conference?" "Law enforcement." He buttoned his
shirt then tucked it into his unfastened jeans. "I told you last
night, remember? Sheriff departments and police departments from
all over Nevada send personnel every year." Confusion started
to morph into fear. He was serious last night? It wasn't just a
story? "You're really a policeman!?" She sounded horrified. Blue
lasers locked on her again. "Sheriff, Darlin'. I know I
introduced myself last night." He reached into his back pocket and
drew out a thin leather wallet, flipped it open to show his badge
and an I.D. card with his picture. Sheriff Matthew Bellemy.
"Oh my God!" She jumped out of bed wrapping the sheet around her.
Her panicked eyes darting around the room, searching for her
clothes, desperate to escape. "Please, God, don't arrest me. You
can't arrest me. I haven't paid you yet, and it's legal in
Nevada...isn't it legal in Nevada? I mean you advertised and
everything!" Matt slowly replaced his wallet and stepped
toward her. "Carla, take a breath." He placed his warm rough hands
on her bare shoulders. "Come on, Darlin, take a breath." Carla
sucked in air, and then let it out in a rush. When had she stopped
breathing? Damn, she had to calm down. She had to think.
"Carla, maybe you'd better tell me just what you're talking about."
"Well, you're from...aren't you?" She couldn't meet his eyes.
She stared at his chest. His unbuttoned shirt revealed that hard
furred chest that had rasped her breasts last night. She had
burrowed her fingers threw that patch of chest hair and run her
fingers down the thin line that ran... "From where? Aren't I
what?" "Didn't the escort service send you last night?" She
looked up at him and then stepped back, her thighs against the
nightstand. Blue eyes blazed at her as he pointed at the bed.
"You thought I was WORKING HERE?" "Well, yes. I mean, you came
right over to me in the bar and you were just what I, uh, I mean
you were wearing jeans and boots and everything." "I was just
what you what?" "You were just what I'd a-asked for, not too
young, sort of a cowboy type." Carla gasped as he grabbed her
shoulders again, this time firm. He stepped closer and she pressed
harder against the nightstand. "You mean to tell me that the
whole time I thought I was having the luckiest night of my life
with a sweet lady school teacher, you were thinking I was a working
male whore?" He didn't shout. In fact his voice had dropped deep
and low until Carla was straining to hear him. She pushed against
him with one hand, clutching her toga with the other. He took three
steps back and leaned, half sitting, against the dresser. He folded
his arms across his chest and stared at her. Reason was starting to
assert itself. He wasn't going to arrest her. No, she was going to
die of embarrassment. "Listen, I'm sorry for,..um, I'm sorry.
Since I don't owe you, I mean, I think you should just go."
"Are you really a school teacher from Ohio?" "Yes." "How
often do you come to Vegas to buy sex?" She flinched as if he'd
slapped her. Tears of shame and humiliation were welling.
"Never. This is the first time I ever..." She dropped her gaze and
gathered her sheet up to her knees. She scrambled across the bed
and down on the other side, backing toward the bathroom door. "I
think you should go. We have nothing else to talk about." She
backed into the bathroom and locked the door. Matthew pulled
on his boots, listening to the shower through that locked door. He
would be here when she came out, whether it was ten minutes or two
hours. Little Miss Carla might think they had nothing left to talk
about, but he knew better. They had to talk about the third time.
The third incredible, mind-blowing time happened around four AM.
And the third time, the condom broke.
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