Copyright- Artfully Aspiring
*Note: This is Part Three of a continuous Steamy Saturday series. Please visit Part One and Part Two to ensure ultimate steaminess.*
The subtle movement of the bed pulls me out of my sleep, as Mitch lies down next to me. I keep my eyes closed and struggle to keep my breathing shallow. I’m sure he’s too decent of a man to try anything while I’m sleeping, but I partially wish he wasn’t.
The screams of my body, aching for his touch, go unanswered. Eventually, I accept the reality that he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.
But then I feel the slight bowing of the bed as he rolls on his hip, moving closer to me. Though we’re not touching, I can feel the heat of his body filling the gap between us. My pulse quickens, and I suddenly feel the jolt of energy to make the next move. Before I can, his arm encircles my waist. Mitch pulls me against him, and there’s a frenzy of excitement in my body, making it impossible to suppress a smile. He buries his head into the side of my neck. The stubble on his chin tickles me, while his sultry breath invigorates my tender skin.
“You need to wake up,” he murmurs softly into my hair. I press myself into him further, fusing every curve of my body to his. “Come on, Abby,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I giggle under my breath and intertwine my fingers around his.
“Abby, we’ve got to move!”
My eyes shoot open, and Mitch is standing by the door, with the black bag in his hand. My heart drops. I scramble off the bed and try to pull myself out of the dreamy fog. I look down to see that I’m still fully dressed, shoes and all, and I suddenly feel incredibly gross.
“Can I shower, at least?” I quickly comb my fingers through my knotted hair.
“Not here.” He grabs me by the hand and pulls me against the door with him. “A couple of them just walked into the motel office,” Mitch says in a hushed voice while scanning through the side of the window.
“How could you see them?”
“They can change into practically any form, and right now, they’re humans so they can track us easier.”
“What do we do?”
“Well, I’m guessing they’ll get the guy to rat on us, one way or another, and we don’t have enough time to book it to my bike, unnoticed.” He looks back at me, his eyes steady. “They’re going to ambush us.”
“So, we’re just going to let them?”
He grabs me by the hand and takes me to the bathroom. “You need to stay in here, and I’ll take care of them.”
“Can’t I help?” Is all I manage to ask before Mitch closes the door between us. I hear heavy scraping across the floor and then a thud against the bathroom door. The fact that I’m barricaded-in answers my question. With nothing else to do, I lean against the door to listen.
Nothing but subtle clicking and metallic popping sounds, as Mitch loads whatever weapons he’s kept hidden in the bag….And then, silence. Though I can’t see him, something between us tells me he’s collected and prepared, and that comforts me a little.
The crashing glass and splintering wood rip through the silence. Instantaneously, gunfire pierces my ears. I jump and trip backward into the shower. As I slam into the porcelain, I hear a pause in the chaos. Then, heavy footsteps approaching the bathroom. The ground shudders as the dresser separating us is shoved to the side. I press myself further against the wall and reach to pull the shower curtain closed, but I know it won’t save me.
“Mitch!” My voice trembles and cracks.
The doorknob violently shakes, and my eyes lock onto the little button in the middle, praying it doesn’t give way.
“Mitch…Please!” I scream, tears streaming down my face.
I watch as the knob loosens, weakening with every rattle. And then a heavy force slams against it. Two more gunshots just outside the door and then a strange sizzling.
“Abby, unlock the door!” Mitch yells between labored breaths.
I gain stability in my quivering legs before running to the door. As soon as hit the button, Mitch pulls me out with one arm, wrapping it around me and pulling me through thick smoke. All I can see are the several writhing bodies sprawled across the room and the morning light guiding us outside.
My lungs fight for oxygen as we run to the bike. Mitch promptly sits me on it and intently straps on my helmet. I want to help him, by my fingers refuse to move, and my trembling lips refuse to speak. He presses his hands against my cheeks, as his eyes dart across my face.
“Are you alright?”
I part my lips, but nothing.
“Abby?” His voice waivers.
Mitch’s eyes widen, as his hands frantically pull-off my helmet and slide to the back of my head. The soothing rubbing of his fingers as they examine my skull enlivens me. My nerves begin to weave back together.
“Yes,” I murmur loosely.
His hands jump to my face again.
“Are you ok?”
I nod my head.
“Alright, you’re riding up front.” He slides me to the front of the bike before sitting behind me. Mitch places my feeble hands on each of the handles before pulling a combination of switches and levers and placing his strong hands beside mine. We fly out of the parking lot and harshly turn onto a main road. My body jolts around with each bump until Mitch slides further into me and presses his thighs against mine. I feel secure, but I also feel…
“Abby? Abby, stay with me! We’re almost there,” his voice cuts through the rambling of the bike.
I hope you enjoyed this week’s Steamy Saturday. I posted it a bit early because I’ll be gone for the weekend, while traveling across the state for my first 5K since my significant running injuries last fall. So, while I may not respond to your comments promptly, I truly appreciate them and would love to hear your input!
Keep it steamy,
Adelie
*P.S. In case you’re wondering, I’ve decided to use personal photographs for Steamy Saturday posts from this point on. I wasn’t finding the photos I was looking for online, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I am by no means a model, so take it easy on me! Also, these images may not be reproduced or redistributed, not only because it is my body and my property, but because no one wants to see that! 😉
Artfully Aspiring 