Handsome Devil: Chapter 22
She’s leaving. I keep replaying everything that has happened over the past two days, trying to understand why she suddenly wants to be away from me. I admit I didn’t expect her to drive back with me at first, but then after the marathon of sex, I can’t help but wish this little trip wouldn’t end.
Kirsten didn’t get married after all. Laila and I had full permission from my daughter to be together. I didn’t feel so uptight about the impracticality of it all anymore. In fact, I was feeling downright excited. So excited that I suggested to my daughter, after three full pints and a couple shots, that I tell Laila that I love her.
She thought that was a terrible idea. Which after five days of knowing each other, I understand her reasoning. What I can’t understand is that I do love her. And it doesn’t make sense. But I’m done fighting with it. It’s irrational and dangerous, but I don’t care anymore.
Kirsten opts for a nap with her fake husband, so I volunteer to take Laila to the airport. Just after lunch, I knock on her door to help her out to the car. When she opens it, I want to kiss her. Those bracelets are back on her wrist. Her chipped nail polish is almost completely scratched off which means she’s been worrying a lot too. There isn’t much makeup on her face, and those sweet lips invite me in, but I don’t. She wants space, and it’s not fair of me to cloud her judgement.
‘Ready to go?’
‘Yeah,’ she says with hesitation. ‘I already said goodbye to Kirsten and Andy. So, I guess this is it.’
The elevator ride down to the lobby is quiet. When we get to the car, I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia. The memory of her laid out on a layer of blankets in the back, fogging up the windows, stops me as I’m about to slam the trunk closed. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I remember her face in my lap and how exciting that day was, both of us high on the attraction to each other.
‘Everything okay?’ she asks, sounding more nervous than me.
‘Yep.’
We don’t speak on the drive to the airport. I keep thinking of the things I want to say, things I’ve never wanted to say to anyone before. She’s fidgeting in her seat next to me, and I can tell she wants to say something too.
Of course the fucking airport is ten minutes away, and the drive is too short. Just before we turn off the freeway, the radio quietly plays ‘Hurts so Good,’ and we both look at the screen at the same time. It must still be hooked up to her phone. But neither of us moves to turn it off.
My blood starts to go cold when we pull up to the airport. As I see a spot to pull up to the curb at the terminal, I get a sudden wave of regret.
Before I know what’s happening, she’s climbing out of the car to get her suitcase. I jump out to help her, and I beat her to the handle on her bag before she can pick it up. As I drop it onto the concrete, she turns to look at me with sadness in her eyes.
‘Call me when you get back into town. Maybe we can…I mean I’m sure we’ll see each other…with Kirsten, of course…’
‘Yeah, of course.’ I’m trying to console myself. I need to convince myself that this will be fine. It’s for the best. We both need some time apart to clear our heads. It’s just a few days. What’s a few days?
Then, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in for an awkward hug. I squeeze her tight, not wanting to let go. Suddenly, having her in my arms, I realize that a few days is a long fucking time. And I don’t want to spend a few days without her.
There’s a loud whistle from behind us as the airport security tries to hurry us from staying too long at the curb. Laila pulls away, and I notice her wipe her eyes quickly before picking up her suitcase by the handle and moving toward the door.
Fuck. Fuck, what am I doing?
‘Laila!’ I shout as I rush toward where she disappeared through the sliding doors.
‘Sir! You can’t leave your car here!’ Security starts to swarm as I’m pushed back to my car.
Laila rushes back out the doors and toward me. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Drive back with me.’
Shock colors her features. ‘What?’
‘I’m being spontaneous and wild, just like I told Kirsten not to be, just like I criticized you for being, but now I’m begging you not to get on that flight. Please come back with me.’
Security is now in my face, shouting for me to get back into my car and calling for backup, but I don’t even see them. My eyes are on Laila and the subtle smile on her lips. As I’m reluctantly shoved toward my car, I climb in and watch for her from the driver’s seat. She can’t just leave me like this, can she?
There is a long agonizing moment while I’m shouted at by security and waiting for her to make a decision, and she’s taking her pretty little time. Finally, she seems to realize it at the same time as she rushes toward my car and opens the trunk to throw her suitcase in. Then, she’s in the passenger seat, and we’re both just staring at each other. My heart has never beat so fast in my life.
There’s another loud whistle outside my window. ‘Sir!’
‘Just drive,’ Laila snaps, and I don’t think my smile has ever been wider.
I make a quick circle around the terminal, and neither of us say anything. What do I do now? Take her back to the hotel? She never really agreed to come back with me?
‘There,’ she calls out, pointing to the next turn. ‘The cell phone lot.’
I glance at her skeptically, but I throw on my blinker anyway. The lot is about half-full, but there’s a spot in the far corner that I pull into in a rush. Once the car is in park, I stare at her, our chests heaving in excited panting. What now?
When I turn toward her to say something, she’s quick to jump forward and pull my lips to hers for a kiss. It’s a passionate connection, and we’re gasping for breath while we devour each other. She’s not close enough, so I pull her easily across my lap until she’s straddling my hips, her back against the steering wheel.
‘Oh my God, Henry,’ she pants as she starts to fumble with my pants. “What are we doing?”
‘Wait,’ I stammer, holding her hands.
She looks up at me with concern on her face. ‘It’s not just about sex, Laila. I want you to come back to Boston with me.’
I watch her throat while she gulps. ‘I know. I will.’
‘I mean…with me. I want you with me.‘
Her hands move from my zipper to my face, cupping my jaw as she presses her lips to mine. ‘I’m still so nervous, Henry. What if something terrible happens? What if this is a mistake?”
“I don’t have any of those answers, love. You’ve turned me into a stupid man who makes rash, crazy decisions, but I’ve also never been happier, and I never want this crazy fucking road trip to end.’
‘Don’t you think you’re being a little reckless?’ she asks, and at first I think she’s being serious. Then, she smiles and kisses me again.
‘You make me crazy.’
‘Henry,’ she mumbles in the small space of the front seat.
‘Yes?’
‘Fuck me now, okay?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I reply as I make quick work of her jeans. It’s an awkward shift to get her out of her pants as I shimmy mine down enough to let my erection free, and after she frees one leg from her jeans, she settles herself down on my lap, slowly lowering herself on me.
‘Fuck yes,’ she moans as I fill her to the hilt.
I hold her close, my arms wrapped around her waist as she starts to thrust her hips back and forth, finding the friction she wants. I don’t even care that it’s broad daylight and there are a dozen other cars parked around us. Right now it’s only me and Laila. There isn’t an inch of space between us.
Grabbing a handful of flesh on her hips, I drive her down harder, and she lets out a muffled cry. We’re probably going to jail for this, and I don’t even care.
‘Harder, Henry. I’m going to come,’ she shrieks, pressing her hand to the roof for leverage to bring her down even harder.
Oh yeah, people are looking.
I let out a guttural roar as I thrust up and come hard just as her body tightens around me. I love the way her hips feel, shaking in and quivering through her orgasm. She’s kissing me again, hard against my mouth and taking bites out of my bottom lip.
“It’s going to be a very fun trip home,” she whispers against my neck.
“I wonder how long it will take us this time?” I answer with a smile, as I place a kiss on her lips. We have over two-thousand miles to go, and I’m looking forward to every single one.