N. Walters - Legacy Found

James grunted. He’d been quiet, almost withdrawn, during their meal. She hadn’t had much to say, but way too much to think about. As a result, dinner had been a fairly silent affair.

She wondered if everything was okay at home but didn’t feel as though she should ask him. From everything she’d heard of his phone call, his daughter seemed fine. She had no idea what he was thinking.

She almost snorted. Who could figure out the mind of a male? She’d made a study of it her entire life and she still got surprised on occasion, especially since meeting James. He challenged everything she thought she knew about the opposite gender. Better to keep quiet and leave him to his mood.

He closed the door and set the lock. The finality of the gesture set loose a flock of butterflies in her stomach. Her nerves jangled. She was alone in a motel room with a man she’d only met this morning.

All her sensible arguments flew out the window. She took a deep breath. She would not panic. Not this time.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed? You can have the shower first.” James motioned to the bathroom. He was watching her with those golden eyes, an unreadable expression on his face.

A shower sounded like a wonderful idea. She grabbed a few things from her bag and hurriedly shut herself in the bathroom. Closing the door, she leaned against it and released a breath. How was she going to manage to sleep with James only a few feet away from her? Would he let her sleep alone or would he try something? Did she want him to?

Groaning, she pushed away from the door and looked for a place to put her bundle of clothing. There was only a sink and toilet. The little alcove outside the bathroom contained a mirror and a counter. She put the lid of the toilet down and put her things there.

She didn’t have a nightgown, so she’d brought her clean dress and a pair of underwear for wearing to bed. It would cover her from head to toe and make her feel more comfortable.

Biting her bottom lip, she went back to the door and pushed in the lock. Not that it would keep James out if he wanted to get in. She had no idea just how strong he was, but she knew he was all muscle beneath his clothing. It was evident in the way he moved, in the way his shoulders filled out his shirt, his biceps straining at the sleeves.

Her skin flushed and she felt restless. She was glad there was no mirror in this room. Didn’t want to see how red her face was. What did it matter how strong James was or how he looked beneath his clothing?

Shelley tugged off her jeans, folding them carefully before setting them on the floor. She loved her new clothing. Pants were so much more comfortable than wearing a dress all the time. The freedom of movement was amazing.

Her sweater came next. Followed by her socks and underwear. Naked, she started the shower running and stepped beneath the spray. It was hot, warming her chilled skin.

She shivered, trying not to remember Steve Macmillan’s face. He looked a lot like his father had all those years ago when he’d captured her. Tom Macmillan had been intelligent, strong and as mean as a snake.

“Don’t think about it.” Shelley grabbed a paper-covered bar of soap and tore off the packaging, tossing it on the floor outside the shower. She worked the sliver of soap into a lather and started rubbing, working her way from head to toe until she felt clean.

James was in the other room listening to her taking a shower. Her nipples tightened, becoming little red nubs. She put her hands over them, but it didn’t ease the growing ache inside her. If anything it made things worse.

Shelley didn’t understand. She knew what physical arousal was. Had experienced it before in her life. And she hated it. Because of a biological reaction, she’d accepted a man she hadn’t even known. After that, once a year, she’d gone through a period where her skin had ached and her body had longed for sex.

Mentally, she hadn’t wanted a man, but her body hadn’t cared. She’d craved the feel of a thick cock working in and out of her pussy. Needed a man filling her.

Tears of shame rolled down her face. She’d hated that part of her nature most of all. Tom would always laugh at her after, calling her a whore. And he was right. What kind of woman would do the things she’d done?

Swiping at her cheeks, she thrust her head beneath the spray and quickly used the bar of soap to wash her hair. As she worked the lather through the slick strands, she wondered why she was having a physical reaction to James.

She wasn’t in heat. That’s what Tom had called it. Shelley had never named it, had done her best to ignore it. Had prayed each year that it wouldn’t happen. Nothing had helped her avoid it.

No, that time was at least several months away. But her body was responding to James anyway. There was no other explanation for it. She was attracted to him.

Shelley shivered and quickly rinsed the soap from her hair. She couldn’t afford to be attracted to anyone. She could only depend on herself. The only reason she was going with James was to get away from Steve and to take a job to earn some money. She wasn’t staying.

She twisted the taps, shutting off the flow. The silence was almost overwhelming after the patter of water against the porcelain tub. She grabbed one of the towels and quickly dried her body before wrapping it around her head.

The air was cool, causing goose bumps to race down her skin. It had nothing to do with the fact she was going to see James in a minute. At least that’s what she told herself.

Sighing, she pulled on a clean pair of panties and dragged her cotton dress over her head, doing up the buttons in the front. When she was done, she unwound the towel from her head and dried her hair as best as she could. When the towel was hanging from the rack and she’d cleaned up behind herself, she gathered her pile of clothing and unlocked the door.

There was only one light on, the one between the two beds. Not that she needed light to see. Her vision was astoundingly good in the dark. But it made the room seem smaller, more intimate.

It was also warmer. A blast of heat was released from the unit in the wall. It felt heavenly. James was stretched out on the bed closest to the bathroom and to the main door, so she scurried past him and carefully put her clothing away.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled back the bedclothes and climbed beneath them, angling her body so she could see James. He looked so big and strong. He’d removed his flannel shirt and was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt. With his hands stacked behind his head, she could see just how enormous his biceps really were. The tight fabric of his shirt clung to his flat stomach. His legs were long, his thighs thick.

She swallowed when her gaze fell on the substantial bulge in the front of his jeans.

“How are you feeling?” His low voice broke the silence.

She swallowed twice before she could answer. “I’m okay.”

“Liar.” His tone was so gentle, so soft, it took her a moment to realize exactly what he’d said.

Shelley didn’t know how to answer his accusation so she kept her mouth shut. James was in a strange mood. Then again, she barely knew the man. Maybe this was his normal mood and the rest of the day had been an anomaly.

She was totally confused. By him. By herself.

“Tell me about yourself, Shelley. Where do you come from? Where have you been living?”

Bitterness coated her mouth. She’d known this was coming. Had anticipated it. But it surprised her how much it hurt. She’d expected better from James. Although why she should, she had no idea.

“Is that the price I have to pay for the room, for supper?” There was no suppressing the anger in her voice.

James rolled and pushed himself into a seated position on the side of his bed. Shelley jerked to the far end of her mattress, ready to jump out of bed if she needed to fight. Her heart was pounding. The sound of blood rushing in her ears made it difficult to hear. Waves of anxiety swamped her as she waited to see what James would do.