She's lying. This isn't about math or some fucking class she's taking. She doesn't get it- I can read her like she can read me. And because I can read her, I let her pretend we're both believing this lie. If I call her on it, she'll just shut down and then we'll both be nowhere.

Resting back on the bed, I take out my phone and check in with Brick. All good?

I get an almost immediate text back. Good with a thumbs up emoji.

Setting it down next to the night stand I open a mini bottle of whiskey and guzzle the shot down. It both burns and soothes my throat. She glances over her shoulder and raises her brow.

"Wanna go out?" I ask as she continues to stare out the window.

"No," she doesn't hesitate. "Let's just stay in."

There's more to those words than meets the eye. She isn't eager here like she was in New Orleans. I'm not going to pry though. There's one thing on my mind and it ain't exploring San Antonio.

We get California Cobb Salads for dinner. The man who brings them to our room is the happiest person I've ever seen. You'd think he's working at Walt Disney World the way he greets us and drops off our food. "Anything else I can get for you, miss?" he asks, focusing all his attention on Silvie.

"No," she smiles sheepishly. She isn't used to people serving her, paying attention to her, catering to her.

"I've never had a salad with so much stuff in it," she says once the man leaves. "Why do they call it blue cheese? It's not actually blue."

I cock my head and watch her. She rambles, not looking up, as if she's talking to the salad and not to me. She stops talking when she takes a bite of food, finally looking up and realizing I've been watching the whole time.

"I guess I have a lot of thoughts on salad," she laughs with her mouth full.

After dinner, she brushes her teeth and climbs into bed. It's still early, but we're both tired from two days of riding. Her breath is sweet, the lingering scent of toothpaste clinging to it.

Her tank top shows off her mark and it's like a magnet for my fingers. I wrap my arm under her shoulders, reaching over to touch it. She looks up at me like she's waiting for more.

Long dark lashes blink once, holding my gaze. Silvie is nothing if not the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Rolling her on top of me, I just want to look up at her face.

I'm like a man possessed. Never did I think I'd keep a women in my bed and be satisfied without fucking her. Actually, I'm not satisfied, but I am willing to wait.

She leans down and presses her mouth to mine. "What do you want?" her sweet mouth whispers and before I can respond I'm sliding my fingers up her shorts. She sucks in a breath when I slip her panties to the side. In a quick movement, I'm inside her.

Biting her lip, she looks down at me. Her face is so full of need and I want to give her everything. "What do you want, baby?" I ask, turning the question back on her.

Please let the answer be my cock.

She knots her face in confusion. Tugging her lower lip tighter between her teeth. "I don't know," she says.

Fuck. Not the answer I want, but we're getting somewhere. Regretfully freeing my fingers, I force my hands to rest on her hips.