Criminals On The Run |18+

A Special Place.

The soft delicate contact of his lips on mine sparks something in me, drawing me a little bit closer to him.

Unknowingly his hands are already on my waist, squeezing me gently as he presses his body against mine. And unknowingly, my hands are already on his shoulders, running up his face and hair and back down to his arms. Oh wow, do they have a mind of their own. Especially when Alex is in control.

“Mm…” the subtle yet obvious groan escaping his throat makes me chuckle a little bit, pulling away from him.

“I like how you taste like pepperoni and beer.”

“Then I find myself lucky you caught me at such a wonderful moment.” He smiles and sighs. “You're a very beautiful woman.” “And you're a very handsome man.”

He gives me a peck once again before he steps back. “Are you tired?”

“No, not after this. Why?”

“I wanna take you somewhere.” I narrow my brows but he smiles. “Come. If we're gonna do something together, I'd like to tell you about me.”

“Somewhere but here?” “It's a place, Olive.” I smile, my paranoia screaming. “Okay. Let me just grab my jacket.”

“Okay.”

I rush to get my jacket and run out of the house, smiling at him already leaning back on his car.

He walks to the passenger side and opens the door, smiling at me. “Thank you.” I smile back, getting into his sedan. “Alright.” He gets in, exhaling dramatically.

“It's not far from here. I think you'll like it a lot.”

“Okay.”

To trust him is like a moth to a flame. My only worst nightmare would be for him not killing me at the end of this.

“It's a really special place. You've probably heard this before. But everyone's got a place they love. And this is mine.”

“That's nice. I guess I'm out of that category. Ain't got one.”

“Really? What did you do to escape?”

“Stuck in my room, writing poems and fictional stories.”

“Yeah? Any category you favored?”

“Oh, yeah. Mostly thrillers. Or romance. I think a mix of both is perfect.”

“I'd like to read them one day.” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh no. All burnt down to the ground. I store them for a week before burning them all. I don't like holding on to the past.”

Oh that's a slap to the face ain't it?

“Well, maybe I'd like a poem from you.” “Let's see if you've hit that mark yet, A.”

He chuckles before we sit in silence for the next couple of minutes.

“Here it is.” He says, pulling over the roadside. “Come on.”

I look over to my side and widen my eyes. “There's a lake down there.” “Yeah. That's my lake.” “Oh.”

He smiles. “Come.” He gets out of the car and I follow him down the steps to the beachside.

“This is yours, you say?” I raise my eyebrows. “Actually my grandma's. But she gave it to me before she passed. I haven't done anything here yet.”

“Any ideas on this place?” “A few.” He stops by a little shed and pulls out two chairs. “Here you go.”

We sit down and gawk at the serenity. “This is gorgeous, A.” “It really is. But I don't stay here. You got any ideas what to do with this place?”

“Something that'll bring you money? You can always make a B&B. Or a house for rent, timeshare, guesthouse, golly there are so many things you can do.”

“Yeah, I might think about those options. The guesthouse sounds good. I think it would be good. But I'll need a caretaker.” I smile. “You'll figure it out. Don't worry.”

“Maybe if I have you by my side all the time, I wouldn't have to worry about anything.” I laugh and shake my head, staring back at the water. “Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say.”

***