Page 10 of More Than Words

“What are your thoughts on chocolate hazelnut croissants?”

My mouth watered at the suggestion. I was a slut for croissants. “Are you asking because you have some or want to stop somewhere to buy them? Because we’re less than a half-hour into an almost five-hour trip, which means we should probably keep driving.”

“Because I might have a paper bag tucked behind my seat with two. But if you don’t want one, I’m sure I can save it for breakfast in the morning. You never know if the continental breakfast will be dodgy at these things.”

Before he even finished talking, I was leaning over the console, my fingers reaching for the brown paper bag that was barely visible in the dim lighting of the car.

“So, what are you having for breakfast?“ I asked, opening the bag and holding it up to my face, the heady scent of fresh pastry laced with rich chocolate wafting into my nose.

“How experienced with hitchhiking are you?“ He smirked, glancing at me. “Because if you steal my croissant, you’ll need to hitchhike the rest of the way. You might want to cover up the high beams under that sweater, or you’ll be sending the wrong message.”

“So that’s a yes to eating both croissants?”

“I brought you breakfast and coffee. Don’t test me. I’ll pull this car over and put you over my knee,” he chuckled, reaching over to snatch the bag from me.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Putting you over my knee?” He smirked while he pulled a croissant from the bag and placed it back on my lap. He took a large bite of his, talking with his mouth full. “I’m sure you’d like it more than I would, but sometimes all you need to put yourself in a good mood in the morning is a good open palm spanking.”

“You get spanked often?” Taking a bite of the flaky pastry, I tried to hold in a moan, but was unsuccessful in my attempt. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

“Took you long enough to moan like that around me. You’re welcome.” Adrian shoved the rest of what was left of his into his mouth, moaning as he chewed. “Mmm. This is almost better than sex.“ He paused, licking his fingers. “Almost. But to answer your question, no, it’s been a while since I had a good spanking.”

My eyes widened, not expecting that comment, but I wasn’t sure if I even remembered sex. It hadn’t just been a while. It’d been years. Probably nearing three if I had to narrow it down, and only if oral counted. I’d stopped keeping track after the first year.

It wasn’t that I was holding out or anything, but with my work hours, the thought of dating made me want to pull my hair out. I’d been there, done that, and had the divorce papers stowed in my safe to prove it. I wasn’t even sure how to use a dating app. My few failed attempts at dating another man had been from good old-fashioned talking to semi-intoxicated strangers in a dark bar.

Sometimes I wondered if I’d peaked early. My parents hadn’t batted an eye when I got married right out of undergrad, and my sisters were already married by twenty. At least I finished my degree first. Grant had been another English major at Cornell, and we’d been the cliche couple. Met the first day of orientation, dated all four undergrad years, and had the stereotypical proposal at Christmas during senior year. Followed by a small wedding the following summer where my parents complained the entire time that I dared to get married in New York instead of Iowa.

We’d been happy, but I hadn’t known anything different. It wasn’t until I started my graduate classes at Boston College, when he started talking about having a family, that things began to change.

Two years later—after endless nights of bickering because sex had become a chore, a few devastating miscarriages followed by a slew of negative pregnancy tests, and a graduate degree—Grant asked for a divorce. He wanted to cut his losses if I couldn’t provide the perfect family he wanted. Adrian often reminded me of a younger Grant, cocky, a little bit rude—the loveable asshole. Maybe that was why I disliked him so much. I’d been through his type once and wasn’t sure I needed a repeat. Not that he was interested in me like that. But someone like him…they had the potential to break me.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden. Should I be worried?” Adrian asked, staring out the windshield at the sun that’d started to just barely peek above the horizon line. “Was it the croissant sex reference? Although, on second thought, if you combined the two, you wouldn’t have to choose. But you would have crumbs in the sheets, so that might be a deal-breaker.”

“Just thinking.” I interrupted his rambling line of commentary. He could be witty when he wanted to, but the problem was, he never wanted to. He’d rather remain on brand and be a dick. “You might want to try it sometime. Especially when you’re about to start talking.”

“As long as you’re not plotting my murder, we’re good.”

“Not yet. But it’s early. Anything can happen,” I replied with a wink when he glanced over at me.

“Are you alright with stopping for lunch when we hit Brunswick? Or are you one of those people who power through a road trip without stopping?”

“Depends on who’s buying.”

“Considering we’re on a work-related trip, I’d say Vivid is buying. Sloane did say we have a daily stipend.”

“Well, I’m going to get some work done while you’re driving, if you don’t mind. I have a few proofs I need to look over.” And I wanted to avoid talking for now. Our conversations usually felt more like a boxing match than anything else, so it’d be better if we didn’t tempt fate.

“Go for it.” He reached over and pressed a few buttons on the touchscreen in the console, and soft rock music filled the car. Somehow, I knew he’d be a Springsteen man.

Disappearing into my tablet for a few hours, I didn’t realize how far we’d come until the car decelerated, and Adrian took an exit leading us toward the water. It was chilly, but still a sunny day, and the water sparkled as he crossed a bridge that took us over some half-frozen marshland.

“Where are we going?”

He smiled, nodding toward a building that looked like a fishing shack, suspended over the water with a questionable-looking dock coming right up to the road.

“I know we don’t always get along, but was it necessary to drag me out of bed before dawn and drive me to the middle of nowhere to dispose of my body? You could have at least let me sleep in.”

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