LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Six

      Ally latched the seat belt, grabbed the door handle with one hand and the seat with the other. Greg swerved around a car. Glancing back, she spotted a dark sedan maneuvering to stay behind them. Her heart leapt into her throat as Greg narrowly avoided the rear bumper of a delivery truck. They roared down the block, taking the next corner so fast Ally’s shoulder slammed into the door with bruising force.

      Before she could catch her breath, he whipped them around another corner. The hard right flung her the other way. They tore down a quiet alley and onto a sleepy residential street. He slowed, taking the next corner at a more sedate pace. Kept all four tires on the pavement even.

      Ally’s racing pulse didn’t care.

      His gaze locked on the rearview mirror and she turned to peer out the back window. Towering maple and oak trees filtered weak moonlight through their full branches to shine on stately homes. The street remained empty. She straightened, her stomach quivering like unset Jell-O.

      “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

      Greg smiled. “Too much excitement for you?”

      “Yes.”

      He laughed. She sank low in her seat, longing for a steaming hot bath to ease the tension from her muscles. Ha. If this was excitement, she needed it about as much as she needed a hole in the head. She winced and rubbed the sore spot on her temple where Boner had pressed the muzzle of his gun. Poor word choice.

      Greg pulled into the parking lot of a dumpy motel, the flashing sign illuminating the dilapidated puke-green and pink exterior. The place probably rented rooms by the hour.

      Greg disappeared inside the tiny lobby. A few minutes later, he dropped a key in her lap, complete with a key ring in the shape of a miniature rubber…dildo? No way. She leaned closer, gaze tracing the outline of ridges and what definitely looked like the head of a, err, phallus.

      “We were in luck. They had one room left.”

      “Great.” She stared at the thing resting between her clenched thighs. No way was she touching that key ring. Someone could have used it in desperate times.

      “What?”

      “Nothing.” She tossed him a polite smile then yanked open the door and scrambled out. She had no business being ungrateful. He was keeping her safe. A sleazy motel, complete with gross key ring, was the least of her worries.

      Meticulously avoiding the swinging plastic penis, she fit the key into the thin door. The dim interior wasn’t encouraging. Greg shut the door and curtains before hitting the overhead lights. She cringed.

      Two beds covered with gray and red shiny comforters squatted over stained gray carpet and were flanked by black lacquer nightstands where large lamps with brilliant-red lampshades perched precariously. Even the walls were a dull shade of gray. Heavy drapes in eye-straining swirls of red, gray and black finished off the décor.

      His surprises were certainly…surprising.

      “This isn’t so bad.”

      She turned and stared. Was he insane?

      “I have to admit, I was a little worried when I first spotted this place.” He switched on one of the monstrous lamps and mystery stains on the bed’s shiny cover leapt into high relief. “Yeah, this’ll work great. Which bed do you want, Sugar Lips?”

      She flinched and took a step back, her skin crawling. His smile slipped a few notches.

      “Come on. This place is perfect. No one will look for us here. Considering my family’s money, they’ll expect me to check into a fancy hotel, not some dive.” Strolling past her, he stuck his head in the bathroom. “There’s even a bathtub. I’ll flip you for it.”

      He held out a quarter and cocked an eyebrow. She managed to unglue her feet, cross the room and peer into the tiny bathroom. A healthy assortment of chips dotted an avocado-green bathtub. Rust stains circled the drain—not what she had in mind when envisioning a hot bath.

      “You’re going to fit in there how?” She glanced at Greg. Barely an inch separated them. Startled to find him so close, her mouth dried.

      His gaze dropped to her lips. “I suppose it’ll have to be a shower, then.”

      His voice lowered, husky and intense. Awareness rippled through her. He stepped back and pressed a towel into her arms while he maneuvered her into the tiny room. She blinked at the glaring fluorescent lightbulb, her nose twitching at the bathroom’s musty smell.

      He gave a mocking bow. “Ladies first.”

      Ally stuck her tongue out at the closed door. The childish gesture made her grin as she started the water and took off her clothes, feeling lighter than she had all day.

      She eased into the hot water and squeezed the contents of the microscopic “complimentary” shampoo/conditioner into her hand, thinking about Greg. Pictured him leaning against the doorframe in his condo, minus the towel. Imagined licking all his golden skin. Groaning, she rinsed and climbed out of the worn bathtub.

      She contemplated the clothes carefully draped over the sink as she dried off. No way could she sleep in those. Talk about sacrilege. Lips pursed, she looked from the clothes to the door to the solitary towel in her hands. Cursing tiny towels to hell and back, she maneuvered the scrap of fabric to cover her important bits.

      Ally gathered her clothes, took a deep breath, sent up a quick prayer and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. The cooler air raised goose bumps. She peeked around the corner. Greg lounged on the far bed, his eyes glued to a couple of sportscasters arguing on TV. White- knuckling the towel, borrowed clothes pressed to her chest, she sidled around the corner toward the empty bed. She gingerly peeled back the coverlet, while trying to keep the towel in place.

      “Nice outfit.”

      Her head snapped up. Deep-blue eyes leisurely surveyed her. Heat flashed across her skin and she dove for the sheets. Covered in scratchy cotton, she dropped the wet towel over the side, then carefully arranged the dress on a spare pillow. Ally grimaced and tossed the coverlet to the bottom of the bed. Top sheet securely tucked under her chin, she didn’t dare look at Greg.

      “No worries, Princess.” Amusement dripped from his voice. “I doubt anything’s contagious.”

      She sniffed. “Have I said a word?”

      “Your expression says it all. I know this place sucks, but a trashy motel is heaven compared to being six feet under.”

      Her skin prickled. She closed her eyes and saw again the man tumbling from the roller coaster and Officer Smith’s massive bulk herding her into her house. The thud of bullets into Greg’s walls. Big beefy arms tightening around her ribcage. The cold press of a steel barrel against her skin. Burrowing deeper beneath the thin covers, trembling spread along her limbs.

      “So you admit this place is trashy.” Despite her attempt at a teasing tone, her voice shook. “What happened to ‘not so bad,’ ‘perfect’ and ‘great’?”

      Embarrassed by her lack of control, she rolled away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself

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