Hotel No Tell
I can't keep doing this.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Jaime softly rapped his fist on the door of a room boasting to be Room 106. Even with his quiet knocking, the sound echoed in the dimly lit hallway and he felt his blood drain from his face, wondering if perhaps someone in either of the rooms next to River’s had heard and would investigate. Though, that was highly unlikely. The types of places that River chose were always the “Motel No Tell” kind of motels; the kinds of places where drug dealers and addicts were practically crawling from the woodwork.
No sound came from behind the door, and perhaps he wondered if she had accidentally given him the wrong room number. Several more seconds of silence passed by, causing Jaime mild discomfort as he fished in his back pocket for the crumpled receipt that she’d hastily written her room number on earlier in the day when he’d seen her.
106, the number on the piece of paper read. He frowned, looking back up at the door before he groaned when he realized that he was indeed at the wrong door. The nine was upside down. He quickly made his way further down the hall so that he wouldn’t be confronted by whoever was inside the room before he stopped when he came to a stop in front of the right door.
Before he could even lift his hand to knock on the door, it was opened and standing inside the doorway in nothing but a skimpy black and pink lingerie set was River.
She stepped aside, allowing him into the room before she closed the door behind him. He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for River to move next to him. When he felt the bed shift with her weight, he turned to face her.
“I don’t know why you never let me get a nice place for us, baby. You know I can afford it,” he murmured to her, his hand reaching up to brush a few stray blonde hairs out of her eyes. “You deserve better than this shithole.”
“I feel comfortable in these kinds of shitholes, Jaime,” River replied to him before she moved so that she was straddling his hips. Jaime opened his mouth to respond but found himself cut off when she pressed her lips against his.
It was how River always avoided conversations that she didn’t particularly want to have, and she almost always used her technique on Jaime. Talking with him made her feel guilty, and so she preferred to just fuck him and leave him until she needed her next fix of him. Sure, she liked him. Anyone would be a fool not to like someone as kind and as pure-hearted as Jaime was. But she didn’t love him, not like he loved her. Love wasn’t something River allowed herself to feel.
“Riv,” Jaime muttered against her lips, letting his hands touch her sides. “Riv, we’ve gotta talk about us, baby. Please.”
His words stopped River in her tracks, and she took a deep breath as she looked down at the dingy motel floor, shaking her head before she pulled herself off of his lap.
“No, Jaime. There is no us to talk about. There’s just this,” she whispered, moving her hand in between his legs. Jaime shifted her hand away, pulling her hand away from him.
He didn’t say a word as he looked up at her. The River he saw was not the River he had known for a year and a half. The woman standing before him was putting up walls; fortified with something so strong he knew he couldn’t break them down with a few tender words and soft touches. Her beautiful eyes; the eyes he’d fallen in love with, were guarded and holding something back, and her arms were crossed over her chest in a protective manner.
Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? He wanted to ask her, though he knew the answer already. The answer was no. It had to be. If he was who she thought about; if he was who she wanted and needed, she wouldn’t be acting like this.
“Look, Jaime, I’m sorry. I really am. But I…” She started before she shook her head, taking a step back from him. “I can’t keep doing this.”
Jaime didn’t try to stop her as she walked out of the motel room, leaving the door wide open as she did so. In that moment, he had the only answer he’d wanted since he’d fallen in love with her. She didn’t love him; she never would, and he doubted that she ever truly had, as she had once claimed. But instead of causing him heartbreak, it only made his resolve to win her heart even stronger.
Jaime softly rapped his fist on the door of a room boasting to be Room 106. Even with his quiet knocking, the sound echoed in the dimly lit hallway and he felt his blood drain from his face, wondering if perhaps someone in either of the rooms next to River’s had heard and would investigate. Though, that was highly unlikely. The types of places that River chose were always the “Motel No Tell” kind of motels; the kinds of places where drug dealers and addicts were practically crawling from the woodwork.
No sound came from behind the door, and perhaps he wondered if she had accidentally given him the wrong room number. Several more seconds of silence passed by, causing Jaime mild discomfort as he fished in his back pocket for the crumpled receipt that she’d hastily written her room number on earlier in the day when he’d seen her.
106, the number on the piece of paper read. He frowned, looking back up at the door before he groaned when he realized that he was indeed at the wrong door. The nine was upside down. He quickly made his way further down the hall so that he wouldn’t be confronted by whoever was inside the room before he stopped when he came to a stop in front of the right door.
Before he could even lift his hand to knock on the door, it was opened and standing inside the doorway in nothing but a skimpy black and pink lingerie set was River.
She stepped aside, allowing him into the room before she closed the door behind him. He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for River to move next to him. When he felt the bed shift with her weight, he turned to face her.
“I don’t know why you never let me get a nice place for us, baby. You know I can afford it,” he murmured to her, his hand reaching up to brush a few stray blonde hairs out of her eyes. “You deserve better than this shithole.”
“I feel comfortable in these kinds of shitholes, Jaime,” River replied to him before she moved so that she was straddling his hips. Jaime opened his mouth to respond but found himself cut off when she pressed her lips against his.
It was how River always avoided conversations that she didn’t particularly want to have, and she almost always used her technique on Jaime. Talking with him made her feel guilty, and so she preferred to just fuck him and leave him until she needed her next fix of him. Sure, she liked him. Anyone would be a fool not to like someone as kind and as pure-hearted as Jaime was. But she didn’t love him, not like he loved her. Love wasn’t something River allowed herself to feel.
“Riv,” Jaime muttered against her lips, letting his hands touch her sides. “Riv, we’ve gotta talk about us, baby. Please.”
His words stopped River in her tracks, and she took a deep breath as she looked down at the dingy motel floor, shaking her head before she pulled herself off of his lap.
“No, Jaime. There is no us to talk about. There’s just this,” she whispered, moving her hand in between his legs. Jaime shifted her hand away, pulling her hand away from him.
He didn’t say a word as he looked up at her. The River he saw was not the River he had known for a year and a half. The woman standing before him was putting up walls; fortified with something so strong he knew he couldn’t break them down with a few tender words and soft touches. Her beautiful eyes; the eyes he’d fallen in love with, were guarded and holding something back, and her arms were crossed over her chest in a protective manner.
Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? He wanted to ask her, though he knew the answer already. The answer was no. It had to be. If he was who she thought about; if he was who she wanted and needed, she wouldn’t be acting like this.
“Look, Jaime, I’m sorry. I really am. But I…” She started before she shook her head, taking a step back from him. “I can’t keep doing this.”
Jaime didn’t try to stop her as she walked out of the motel room, leaving the door wide open as she did so. In that moment, he had the only answer he’d wanted since he’d fallen in love with her. She didn’t love him; she never would, and he doubted that she ever truly had, as she had once claimed. But instead of causing him heartbreak, it only made his resolve to win her heart even stronger.