Chapter Eleven
Taylor refused to feel guilty about going on vacation with Loch. He was her new boss, right? Made perfect sense that if he wanted company on a trip, he would have her go with him. And if he wanted to charter a private jet so they could fly in style, well, that was all right with her, too. It was his money.
And the fact that he managed to somehow score a massive suite at the convention hotel? Well, he was her employer and if he wanted to travel in style, he certainly could. The fact that she was going to be staying in the room with him? Icing on the cake.
Great sex plus living the high life? Yes, please.
Of course, they hadn’t had sex again yet. After he’d found her crying from losing her job, she’d been too mentally exhausted and had ended up falling asleep with her head in his lap. The next day had been a whirlwind of trying to get tickets to the convention—which was apparently sold out—and booking hotel rooms and flights. But now they were on their way, and she was sipping a margarita on a comfy leather chair in a private jet while Loch napped nearby.
She couldn’t sleep. Her mind was whirling with a dozen different things.
She’d be sharing a room with Loch. That didn’t bother her. In fact, she was looking forward to that now that her period was long gone. She clamped her thighs together tight just thinking about it. She and Loch had just fit together so perfectly right from the start. It felt as if she’d known him forever. She could see herself with someone like him on a permanent basis, but that might have been wishful thinking on her part. He was male perfection, and she was just a bit of a goofball. Of course she wanted to be with someone like him—the question was, why would he want to be with someone like her longer than a fling or two? There wasn’t much of a reason, so she was determined to just enjoy him while she had him, and try not to get too attached.
Of course, it might have already been too late for her with that part. He was just . . . so great. She looked over at him as he slept, a dreamy expression on her face. Handsome, smart, athletic, loaded, funny . . . and into her video game hobbies. It was like someone had taken her geek wish list and made it come to life.
There had to be a catch. Of course, she hadn’t found one yet, which meant that he was probably perfect in a million ways and would be tired of her soon.
So she just had to take this for what it was—a mindless fling.
The job thing would make it tricky, though. Taylor sipped her margarita and looked out the window at the clouds dotting the sky. He’d agreed to pay her twenty-five dollars an hour, and they’d not talked about it much more than that, but Loch had also professed to not being very cognizant of his own funds. What if that was too much money? What about benefits? Was he going to cut her a check or pay her in cash? For how long was this job going to go on? For how many hours a week? There were so many things to discuss, and she worried about bringing them up. What if it ruined this fledgling thing they had between them? She didn’t want that.
She could sit on her worries for a few days and just relax at the convention and have fun.
Hopefully. The convention brought concerns of its own. Taylor had told Sigmund—clingy, clingy, unbalanced Sigmund—that her roommate playing Brunhilde was a girl. That was the nice thing about the Internet—you could lie. But there were going to be several guild-mates of hers at the convention, and if she ran into any of them with Loch at her side, there would be questions. The convention was enormous, though, and she planned on being in costume for most of it, so hopefully no one would recognize her. If they did, well, she’d just have to come up with a suitable excuse. Maybe Loch could be a friend’s brother and they were spending time together. Or she could just go with the whole he’s my boss and I’m his assistant thing.
That would work.
Pleased, she took another swig of her margarita. With a drink in hand, a hot temporary boyfriend snoozing nearby, and a gaming convention to go to? This was setting up to be an awesome weekend.
For once, Sigmund’s constant texts didn’t even bother her.
***
“This room is really amazing,” Taylor gushed as she set her suitcase on the hotel room bed and opened it. “I mean, I wasn’t sure if anything could beat the rock waterfall you had in your room back in New York, but the private swimming pool out on the ledge here just might do it. Too bad I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Mmm, who said you needed a swimsuit?” He smiled lazily at her, hands behind his head as he lounged on the other end of the bed. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself at the moment. He’d managed to score tickets to the convention, had arranged a private jet that Taylor had exclaimed over, and now had set them up in this rather nice hotel room, all on his own. Sure he’d made a few calls to the right people and used his name, and even greased a few palms, but he’d done it himself. It was a small victory. Best of all, Taylor was happy. He’d fixed her job issue, taken her on vacation, and ensured that she’d be spending more time with him. It would be just a small step to propose marriage, and he doubted she’d say no.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” She gave him a saucy little smirk as she re-folded one of her shirts. “Truth of the matter is, I don’t know how much time we’ll have to spend in the room anyhow. The convention’s got so much to do and see. I haven’t been in two years, but if it’s anything like before, there will be beta-test rooms, character battles, costume contests, a vendor alley, some behind-the-scenes panels, and a few about some upcoming game info that everyone’s always peeing in their pants to hear about.”
None of it sounded particularly interesting to him, but if she was excited, it would be fun. An enthusiastic Taylor was one of his favorite things in the world, he’d decided. “So which ones do you want to go to?”
“I haven’t had time to look, to be honest.” She bit her lip and then pulled out a small notepad and began to flip through the pages. “I was busy making lists of things I can help you with! Like driving a car, or taking the subway by yourself, or balancing a checkbook, or cooking—I’m actually not that bad at cooking despite my love for cereal—and understanding personal finances, or maybe—”
“All that can wait a few days. Let’s just enjoy the convention, shall we?”
“Oh, I plan on it.” She beamed at him. “My old costume still fits.”
“Costume?” This wasn’t the first he’d heard about costumes . . . but he hoped it didn’t apply to him. She’d gone back to her apartment to pick up a few things, but he hadn’t realized they were costumes. Loch frowned at her. “I’m not going to wear a costume.”
“Only about half of the people that attend go in costume, but I think it makes it more fun.” She pulled out something from her bag that looked like a scarf. “Here’s mine.”
All right, now she had his attention. His cock stiffened in response and he sat up, curious. “Is that like your Doctor Who scarf?”