Only One Day Away

(Inspired by the song "Twenty-Four Hours From Tulsa", as sung by Dusty Springfield.)

I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. I had been driving for nearly seven hours straight and I still had another day on the road ahead of me. The sun had set two or three hours ago and it was getting a little late. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on without falling asleep at the wheel, so I started looking out for a motel. One came up after about a mile so I pulled off the highway and drove into the reception area.

Ten minutes later I was back on the highway. There had been no vacancies at that motel so I kept a look out for the next one. I drove on for another nine or ten miles before I saw the welcoming lights of another night stop. The parking area was well lit and I caught a quick glimpse of a man standing in the doorway of the motel looking out. I slowed to pull in but then I noticed the lit sign which read ‘No Vacancies’, so I pushed on. Was every damn motel full tonight? I resigned myself to driving on for another few miles, hoping that the next motel would have at least one vacant room.

As I slowly drove by, the man waved . . or did he beckon? It looked like he had waved for me to pull in but, I decided, I was tired and had obviously imagined it so I drove on. I hadn’t gone half a mile before I had a strange feeling; almost as if I was missing something, as well as a small sense of loss; as if I had left something behind. I pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. I quickly got out and opened the trunk. I did a quick check, but there was nothing missing. I closed the trunk and got back into the car. All my luggage was there and my document case was on the front seat beside me.

I certainly had not forgotten anything, besides, I’d done a thorough check before I’d left the hotel. Still, the odd feeling persisted. I sat in the car undecided for a few minutes and then made up my mind. I pulled off the road, swung the car around and headed back to the motel. It was almost as if it was drawing me to it, reeling me in and I realized that this was the feeling that was nagging at me. Within minutes I was back at the motel and I pulled in despite the ‘No Vacancies’ sign.

As I drove into the parking lot, the man I’d seen earlier, came out of the reception building carrying a trash bag. I parked the car and got out. I watched as he tossed the bag into a dumpster at the side of the building. He walked back around to the front and stopped under one of the parking lot lamps and stared back at me. He was tall, well built and by the light of the lamp, I judged him to be about thirty or so. I couldn’t quite make out his features because his face was in shadow. He was wearing blue jeans and a red checked lumberjack shirt. Typical dress for most guys in this part of the world.

I stood next to the car awkwardly, not sure whether I should leave or not because the strange feeling I was having had become a little more intense. For some odd reason, I was a little reluctant to approach him. Not that there was anything wrong with him; he looked pretty normal, but there was just something about him that . . disturbed me? No, that wasn’t it. It was something else. . I couldn’t put a name to it but it almost felt as if I was meant to meet him at that precise moment, like a strange feeling of déjà vu. It didn’t feel wrong at all, it just felt . . right?

“So you came back.” He called out. “Are you coming in or not?”
His voice carried across the parking lot. A deep, rich voice that for some obscure reason, caused a warm stirring in the pit of my stomach.
“I, er . . no! I mean yes. . I don’t know . . !” I mumbled lamely, still wrestling with that strange feeling.
“Let’s make up our minds, shall we?” He quipped.
“But your sign . . it says ‘No Vacancies’ . . !” I tried again and pointed up at the brightly lit board.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He said. “It’s busted. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed.”
He thrust his hands into his pockets and turned as if to go inside but then he stopped and faced me again.
“Well?” He said. “Are you coming in?”
I hesitated and he shrugged his shoulders, turned and went inside.

I finally made an effort to get my legs moving. I was a little confused at my reluctance to stay here but on the other hand I still had the feeling that I was being drawn into the place and I had a strong notion that I would regret it if I got back into the car and drove away. I retrieved my overnight bag from the trunk of the car and went into the building.

Inside it was warm and cozy and I immediately felt at ease, almost as if the place had opened up its arms to welcome me. The reception lobby was fairly large with comfortable arm-chairs set against the walls. The counter was curved and spanned one of the corners. There was a door behind the counter which I assumed, led to the motel office. The man was nowhere to be seen. I ambled up to the counter and waited. I had a feeling that he knew I was there and would attend to me shortly.

I waited for what seemed like hours but in reality it was only a couple of minutes. He came out of the door behind the desk and smiled at me. He placed both his hands on the counter in front of him.
“Hi.” He said with another smile. “So you decided to come in after all.”

“Oh . . yeah.” I mumbled, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything right then because of how the guy looked. Taller than me by about three inches, with the physic of an athlete, muscular without being bulky. And he was good looking, I mean unbelievably good looking. His brown hair was cut in a shaggy wind-blown style and framed the face of a fallen angel with pure lines, straight aquiline nose and sensual lips which were neither too thin nor too thick. His jaw line was strong and proud and his chin sported an enticing dimple.

His eyebrows were finely drawn and arched over his eyes perfectly, but it was his eyes that were the most startling. Bright rich amber, surrounded by fringes of dark long lashes any woman would envy. His face was the face that movie stars dreamed of, what they paid fortunes for. However, this angelic countenance was marred by one flaw. Running from his right temple, down the side of his face to his jaw, was a ragged white scar.

My heart went out to him and I wondered what horrible accident had marred his perfect beauty. To have been blessed with such perfect looks and then have them destroyed by some terrible accident must have been devastating. But, there was an up-side to his disfigurement, if you could call it that. One would think that the scar would make him seem less attractive but surprisingly, it had the completely opposite effect. That one flaw seemed to enhance his attractiveness, made it more real, poignant. It made him seem more vulnerable and it made one feel compassion for this handsome yet damaged man and I realized that if he had been perfect before, he was even more so now.

Apart from that, it also gave him a dangerous piratical look; all he needed was an eye patch. This ravaged angelic countenance topped a body to die for. His shoulders were broad to accommodate the breadth of his chest. A couple of his shirt buttons had come undone and I could see that he had a full covering of brown hair across his chest. The sleeves of his checked shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his strong, tanned arms were covered evenly with fine dark hair.

I like hairy men so this was a big bonus for me; nothing is more manly than a generous pelt of dark chest hair. His hands resting on the counter, were long, sensitive and narrow, his fingers finely boned with the nails clipped neatly. The rest of him was hidden by the reception counter, but I imagined that it was just as perfect. I realized that I was staring, but he seemed unperturbed by it. I quickly looked away and made a pretence of looking around the room.

“How long are you staying?” He asked.
“Um . . just tonight.” I replied shakily, a little confused by the heightened feeling of warmth in the depths of my groin. His voice was deep, very sexy and incredibly calming. I liked him immediately and I took a deep breath to try and still my suddenly racing pulse. I had barely been in his presence for five minutes and I was already having a strong reaction to him. I shifted uncomfortably as the warmth in my crotch intensified.

“Just passing through then.” He said and picked up a pen.
“Yeah.” I said, trying to gain some sort of control over my emotions and my twitching junk. “On my way home.”

Home? I wasn’t so sure that I should call it that anymore. And waiting at ‘home’ for me? Scott! The man who had betrayed me and hurt me; who wanted forgiveness and understanding, both of which I was finding very difficult to provide. If I hadn’t had to leave for the promotional tour and book signing for my new novel, I would be there now working on trying to save what I already thought of as a doomed relationship. He had hurt me once too often and I was almost sure that our relationship was now in its dying stages. He had called me several times while I was away. I’d taken his first call but our conversation had been awkward and stilted.

I had not accepted any more calls from him after that. Now I was on my way ‘home’ to try and sort things out. In twenty-four hours I would be facing him down, a confrontation that I was dreading with all my soul. I pushed him to the back of my mind, I couldn’t dwell on him right now because of the angelic being who stood before me. Oh God, those hands on me, on my body . . . a warm thrill ran up my spine and I forced myself to keep my mind on the here and now.

“Okay!” He said, bringing me out of my uncalled for erotic fantasy. He held the pen out to me. “Can you fill in the register please.” He indicated the book on the counter in front of me. As I took the pen from him, my fingers lightly brushed his. His fingers were warm and I felt a small spark jump from them to mine. With my hand quivering from the contact, I wrote my details down. When I had finished, he swung the book around and glanced at it.

“Damien Turner from Tulsa.” He said. “Welcome to the middle of nowhere, Damien Turner.” He grinned brilliantly and my heart skipped a beat at how his eyes glowed and at the dimple which sank into his left cheek. That little dent was so alluring that I wanted to reach out and touch it. I imagine that once he’d had a matching one on the right, but now it was hidden under the scar.

“Thank-you.” I replied, pushing another unbidden erotic image out of my mind. Concentrate damn it, I scolded myself and I forced myself to relax. I mean, this guy seemed really nice and I hardly think he was some sort of raving maniac.
“We haven’t met before, have we?” He asked. A small frown creased his brow as is orange eyes studied my face and tried to place me.

“No, I don’t think so.” I said. “I would have remembered your . . !” I stopped, realizing that my mouth was running away with me. It showed how tired I was. God, he must think I’m a total moron.
He lifted his hand slowly and lightly touched the scar on his face.

“This?” He asked with a small smile. “Yeah, I guess you would have remembered it. It’s all people seem to see.”
“Look.” I said. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to . . !”
“No no, it’s okay, I’m used to it.” He replied cutting me off. “Most times I forget it’s there.”
“Um . . it’s really not . . that bad, you know.” I said softly, hesitantly, regretting my big yap. Shit, I felt really awful.

“Yes it is, I have a mirror; but thanks anyway.” He said and smiled broadly to ease my discomfort. His smile was totally disarming and his dimple flashed sexily. Again, I wanted to reach out and touch it.
We stood looking at each-other awkwardly for a moment. Good time for a subject change, I thought.

“Um . . is there someplace that I can get something to eat? I’ve been on the road for hours and I didn’t think to stop anywhere.” I asked hesitantly.
“I’m sorry but we’re closed for renovations so there’s no kitchen staff.” He said apologetically. “Actually, I’m alone here at the moment.” And he smiled again, a sensual, almost seductive smile, his dimple even more alluring, his eyes twinkling. Oh God, those eyes, those lips, that damned sexy little dimple . . ! Come on, get a grip already, I berated myself.

“Oh!” I said surprised. “Then why are you letting me . . ?” I left the question hanging.
“I don’t know.” He said with a frown. “Maybe because I could see how tired you were when you arrived and I didn’t want to turn you away. Or maybe because I felt . . !” He paused with a puzzled look on his face. “It’s odd but I really don’t know.” He finished with a shrug.

I stared at him, unable to comprehend the strangeness of the situation. I had been drawn here and he had felt something . . but what?
“Look, I can knock something together for you if you like.” He said with another dazzling smile, his teeth white and even. Damn that cursed dimple! “It won’t be anything special, but it’ll fill you up.”
“Really I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” I said and glanced around. “Isn’t there a vending machine around here somewhere?”
“Yeah.” He said. “But it’s empty. I cleared it out when I closed up for the renovations.”

“Oh!” I said and stood there awkwardly. During this whole interchange, I had noticed that his eyes had not left my face once. His gaze was steady and a little disconcerting and I began to feel a little uncomfortable. Then almost as if he knew what I was thinking, his orange eyes left my face and he came around to the front of the counter.

“Come on.” He said. “I’ll fix us something to eat. I could do with a snack myself so I’m inviting you to join me.” He smiled. “You can leave your bag here.”
He turned and started to move through a double set of doors. I hesitated, not really wanting him to go to so much trouble.
“Come on.” He said again. “I insist.”

I dropped my overnight bag next to the counter and followed him. He led me through a darkened cafe and into a brightly lit, well fitted kitchen. I followed meekly, my eyes on his back. Beneath the fabric of his butt hugging jeans, his hips were narrow and his legs were long and muscular, topped by an ass that defied all the laws of gravity. He walked with the confident stride of a man who knew exactly who and what he was.

As we walked into the kitchen, he suddenly stopped in front of me and I walked into him. I caught the faint scent of his aftershave and my heart skipped yet another beat. He stepped aside and turned to face me.
“Sorry.” He said. “Damn it I’m such a dolt, I never introduced myself. My name’s Michael, Michael Gabriel.”
God, not only had he the face of an angel but he had the names of angels too.

He stretched out his hand and I took it. He shook my hand and released me. I stood there numb. His touch had been electric and I had felt it through my entire body, along with a deep stirring in my jeans. This man was getting to me like no other man ever had and I couldn’t understand it. Okay, he was incredibly attractive and very sexy, but I’d met many attractive sexy men before and none of them had made quite the same impression on me.

He busied himself at the cooker and within minutes he had produced a couple of deliciously stuffed omelets which he tipped onto two plates and carried through to the cafe. I followed him still wrestling with my over charged emotions. The fact that his tight denim clad butt taunted me enticingly wasn’t helping.
He switched on the lights and got some cutlery from the dresser.

“Sit down.” He invited. “Dig in, you must be ravenous.”
“Thanks.” I said. “It looks really good.” The omelet smelled wonderful. At this point I would have eaten it raw.
“Enjoy.” He quipped. I sat down and picked up a fork. He walked over to a juke box which was standing in the corner and stood looking down at the play list for a couple of minutes. I watched him as he absently lifted his hand and lightly rubbed the scar on his face. My heart melted several degrees and the heat in my groin rose a few more at his simple yet almost sensual gesture. What the hell was wrong with me? He’s just an ordinary guy, in the middle of nowhere, no different from any other guy. Get a grip, I chided myself again.

He pressed some buttons on the juke box and soft, mellow music filled the air. He joined me at the table.
“That’s better.” He said with another dazzling smile. “A bit of atmosphere never hurt anyone.”
He was right. The cafe boasted concealed lighting which lit the space with a soft diffused glow. The music added to the ambiance and I felt myself start to relax.

We ate in silence, the music filling it softly. During the entire meal his eyes never left me and again I started to feel a little uncomfortable. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore so I put my fork down and looked into his candid, scarred face.
“I’m sorry.” I said. “But you’re staring at me and . . !
“Oh my God, forgive me.” He exclaimed, cutting me off. “I didn’t mean to but you seem very familiar and I’m trying to figure it out. Are you sure we’ve never met before?”
“Positive.” I replied. How could I forget about meeting such a stunning man.

He put his fork down and despite what I’d said, he continued to stare at me with a frown creasing his brow. Suddenly his face cleared and he sat back in his chair.
“Oh my God!” He whispered. “Oh shit!”
“What?” I asked, intrigued.

He leaned forward over the table and his amber eyes found mine. They glowed with an inner radiance that lit up his whole face. His dreadful scar seemed to magically fade and I drew a breath at his suddenly enhanced beauty. His eyes roamed over my face slowly, taking in every detail.
“Oh wow, it is you!” He whispered. “I know it’s you.”
“It’s me what?” I asked, now more confused than ever.

He shook his head. “Well I’d rather not say, but it’s definitely you.” He said.
I sat back and folded my arms.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here but I think you’d better tell me. I’m really confused right now.” I began. “If it’s something that you think I might have done to you sometime then I would really like to know.”
“No no!” He smiled. “You’ve done nothing to me, trust me. And physically, I know we’ve never met.”

“You’re not making any sense.” I said. “First you come out with ‘it’s you, it’s you’ like you know me and then you won’t tell me anything more. And what do mean by ‘physically’ we’ve never met? What is going on here?”
“I’m really sorry but . . !” He began apologetically and stopped. Then he sat back in thought for a moment. Finally, he came to a decision and leaned forward again.
“Okay, I’ll tell you but you’re going to think it’s really weird.” He said and his eyes bored into mine. “I dreamed about you.” He finished so softly that I barely heard him.
“You what?” I asked, not quite sure that I’d heard him correctly.

“I dreamed about you.” He said again, a little louder.
“You . . dreamed about me?” I said stunned. “But . . if we’ve never met, how can you possibly have dreamed about me?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know.” He laughed.
“But that’s impossible.” I said. “No-one ever dreams of a total stranger.”

“Yeah, I know.” He replied excitedly. “It sounds crazy but it’s true. It was definitely you in my dreams, only your hair was a lot lighter, blond. That’s why it took me a while to place you.”
Again I was stunned. A couple of years ago, a friend had talked me into going blond. I had kept it up for a while but finally came to the conclusion that I looked better with my natural color, dark brown.
“I’m finding this a little difficult to understand.” I said.
“You and me both.” He said. “Trust me, I’m as bamboozled as you are.”

“And by the way, you’re right about the hair, but that was a couple of years ago.” I added.
“Really? Well, that’s when the dreams started.” He said.
“Dreams?” I said. “There’s been more than one?” Letting the thing about the blond hair go for a moment.

He flushed and smiled shyly. “Yeah.” He said. “Quite a few!”
“Okay.” I said, trying to get things clear in my head. “You dreamed about me ‘quite a few’ times yet we’ve never physically met, as you put it. Also, you dreamed about me when I was going through a blond phase, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, right!” He said.
“Well, this is the first time I’ve ever driven this highway. I live clear across the country and I know I’ve never been here before, to this place, yet you’ve had these dreams about me, right?”
He nodded again.
“Was I blond in all your dreams?” I asked curiously.
“Every time!” He replied shortly.

I thought about it for a moment. “You’re right, it is weird.” I finished.
“Yeah!” He replied with a broad grin. I picked up my fork and continued to eat.
“So, what were they about?” I asked casually.
“What?”
“Your dreams. What were they about?” I repeated.

He sat back in thought while I waited expectantly.
“Um . . nothing much really.” He said, evading my question. “Just dreams, nothing important.”
I noticed that the color in his cheeks had heightened somewhat, making the scar on his face stand out a little more.

“It seems to me that they must have been pretty important because of the way you reacted.” I said, trying to draw him out.
“Well, they weren’t really. They were just . . random dreams.” He said with a finality that told me to drop the subject so I let it go for now.
We finished our meal in silence. The record on the juke box changed and another mellow, almost romantic song floated around the softly lit room.

He cleared the plates from the table and took them through to the kitchen while I sat there, my thoughts still on what had transpired. He had dreamed about me. We’d never actually met yet he’d had dreams about me. It was inconceivable and maybe just a little disturbing. What had these ‘dreams’ been about? I had a fairly shrewd idea because of the way he’d blushed, but then again, I was probably going on what I was feeling about him and a great deal of wishful thinking. I smiled at the thought of a total stranger having erotic dreams about me. It was quite a turn on and I felt another warm twitch from my tingling crotch. Forget it, I chided myself; they were probably nothing but random dreams, just as he’d said.

When he came back, I stood up and asked him to show me to a room so that I could get some sleep. I was surprised when he reached out and touched me on my arm. It hinted at familiarity and maybe a little something else, yet I didn’t feel offended by it. In fact, I enjoyed it because his touch sent a thrilling bolt of electricity through my body.
“Don’t go yet.” He said softly. “I don’t get many visitors at the moment, being closed up and all and I would really like you to stay for a while.”

I hesitated. His hand squeezed my arm gently and I thrilled at the contact.
“Please.” He asked. “It can get quite lonely out here and I could use a bit of company.”

His amber eyes held mine and I could see his loneliness in them. How long had he been stuck out here? God knows! My heart melted a little more. Alright, so I had lied to myself; he wasn’t just like some ordinary guy, he was way more attractive and incredibly appealing, not to mention very, very sexy. And there was something intriguing about him that I found terribly hard to resist.
“Okay, why not.” I said. “For a short while though, I’m really quite tired.”

He opened a bottle of wine and we sat at the table and sipped it while we chatted easily. He asked me what I did for a living and I told him that I was a writer and had just been to a book signing on the other side of the country. I said nothing about the cheating man who was waiting for me and my doomed relationship with him. Besides, I had a clear feeling that Scott had suddenly become irrelevant and a thing best forgotten.

“Wait a second.” He said excitedly. “I saw you, earlier on TV, on some talk show. That was you, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” I said with a smile. “I’d forgotten that it was being aired tonight.”
“Cool.” He said. “Now I’m sorry I didn’t watch the whole show.”
“You’re not missing much.” I replied with a laugh.

Then I asked him how he came to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere. He told me about how he’d inherited the motel from an uncle and had decided to keep it going instead of selling it. He told me about some of the odd folk who had stopped in and related a couple of anecdotes about celebrities who had stayed over. Our conversation was relaxed and easy with no awkwardness. I began to feel as if I had known him for many years. I noticed that throughout the evening, his eyes never left my face and he seemed to get more and more excited. Quite suddenly I realized that his steady amber gaze didn’t bother me anymore and I didn’t seem to feel as tired as I did earlier. It was as if I was drawing energy from him and his excitement.

The juke box continued to play, one song after another. Then a song that he particularly liked came on and he jumped up and started swaying to the music.
“I love this song.” He exclaimed happily. “You might think it’s a little crazy, but I like to dance now and then. Sometimes when I’m alone here, I put the juke box on full volume and go a little mad.”
“No, I don’t think it’s crazy at all.” I said, smiling.

He moved to the music slowly, his tight, muscular body keeping time to the rhythm. He seemed totally at ease, uninhibited and unembarrassed as I watched him. I don’t think he had any idea of how incredibly sexy he was. My groin tingled again and I felt my cock swell a little.
“You should try it sometime. It’s quite liberating.” He said. Then he moved to the juke box and turned up the volume.
“Come on, try it.” He laughed. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Surprising myself, I got up without hesitation and joined him. He laughed again and gyrated his body madly.
“Go on!” He said. “Let yourself go. It’s fun.”

I did as he asked and to my surprise it felt really good. He was right, it was liberating and it was fun. I felt no embarrassment and no awkwardness at all. Home and Scott retreated even further to the back of my mind. And so we laughed and danced on into the evening without inhibition. We danced a lot, we laughed a lot and we talked some more. I noticed that he was carrying quite a heavy package in his jeans, which kept my bundle semi-hard throughout the evening.

Later, much later I called it a night and asked him to take me to a room. This time he reluctantly agreed and he led me through the reception lobby where I retrieved my bag. Then he led me down a corridor. I could tell that he was disappointed that the evening was at an end. I think he would have been happy to continue until the sun came up.
“Pick one.” He said, indicating the doors in the corridor. “You can use any one of them.”

I opened one of the doors, went in and glanced around the comfortably furnished room quickly and then turned to face him again.
“This will do nicely, thank-you.” I said. “And thanks for the meal, it was very good.”

He stood there awkwardly, almost as if he didn’t want to leave. I stood in the doorway and stared back at him not really wanting him to go either. If you’re going to make a move on me Michael Gabriel, then do it now, I’m more ready than you think and God knows, I really want you to. This thought burst into my mind suddenly and I flushed. Where the hell had it come from, I asked myself, but I already knew the answer; it was because I wanted him more than anything in the world right then. Another thought; maybe he hadn’t made a pass at me because he wasn’t really into guys.

I forced myself to get control of my galloping emotions. Minutes passed as we faced each-other, neither one of us willing to be the first to move.
“Goodnight.” I finally managed to whisper. “And thanks again.”

He stretched out his hand and I took it. He shook my hand slowly and another electric jolt coursed through me. Get a goddamn grip already!!
“Nice to meet you, Damien Turner.” He said softly. “And thanks for the dance.” He grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling. “It’s one of the best dates I’ve ever had.” He finished.
I laughed at the humor of the situation and I had to admit to myself that it had been one of the best dates that I’d ever had.

“You’re welcome.” I replied. “It was fun and it was really good to meet you.”
He released my hand with reluctance I thought and then turned to leave. Then he suddenly stopped and examined something on the wall. Then he spun around to face me again.