“No.” I wave a hand to stop him from what he’s doing. “It’s late so no need to call. I just wanted to know when she’s checking out.” He hangs up, then narrows his eyes as he clicks on the booking. “I apologize. She was a no-show, never checked in. We kept the room for her in case she showed up later, because she’d already paid up front, until Tuesday.” He shoots me a regretful look. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you any further I’m afraid. Are you worried?”
“No, not at all. She’s a busy woman and she does this all the time. Thank you for checking.” I give him a friendly smile. “I’m sure I’ll manage to get hold of her tomorrow.”
As I walk back to the elevators to return to my own room, I realize she’s been able to get into her suite without a key card. Whoever she is, she’s a pro, hiding in plain sight. It also hits me then that I’m the only one who knows she’s staying here. What does she want from me? Apart from sex, of course, there’s no doubt she wants that. The dark look of desire in her eyes when she made me come over and over a few hours ago is something I’ll never, ever forget.
The word ‘alibi’ slips into my mind again and I wonder how I would really feel if she was using me for some ill-gotten gain, because honestly, I think I still would have been unable to resist her, even if I knew she was.
Then there was the shower afterward, which was almost sweet, and confused the hell out of me. Standing behind me, she washed my hair, then soaped my back before pressing her hips into my behind as she kissed my neck under the running water. The awareness as our slippery bodies made skin-on skin contact still makes me quiver when I think of it. Her hands reaching around me, stroking my breasts, my hips, my thighs… She let me back her up against the shower wall and greedily, I worked my way down her body, kissing and nipping at every inch of her skin, until I was on my knees before her, looking up. Never have I wanted to taste anyone as badly as I wanted to taste her. She certainly didn’t mind when I put my hands on her hips and leaned in to lick her in long and teasing strokes before sucking her clit into my mouth, hard. I loved how she grabbed me by my hair and pulled me closer to her need, and the deep, throaty sounds she made when she reached orgasm were so sexy that I…
I wake up from my steamy thoughts when the elevator pings and the doors open. Stepping inside, I stare at my reflection in the mirror against the back wall, hardly recognizing myself. My usual outfit, consisting of jeans, a cotton shirt and shiny leather loafers, has been replaced by my new backless little black dress and high heels. My hair is down, and I look tired but also extremely satisfied and even a little smug. I smile at myself, and wonder how the hell I went from being a woman no one would ever notice, a woman who always played it safe and put her work and reputation first at all times, to a woman who’s just had wild, mind-blowing sex with a stranger two nights in a row. A stranger with a gun.
I’m not usually someone who makes heads turn; I dress way too plainly for that. Not that I ever notice anything around me because I’m either reading emails on my phone or I’m lost in my own thoughts thinking about whatever my latest project is. But tonight, I apparently radiate something because when the lift doors open halfway up and a young couple step in, the man is unable to keep his eyes off of me.
I look different now, I know that, but she noticed me yesterday when I came back from a long day at the trade show, looking very, very plain. How could she tell I was desperate to be touched before I knew it myself? That I needed her hands on me more than I ever needed anything?
Getting out on the eighth floor, I walk the long corridor toward my room. When I take my key card out of my purse to open it, I notice it’s already ajar. Normally I’d be alarmed but something draws me inside, like I can feel her presence. If she can open her own room without a key, then mine shouldn’t be a problem either. My pussy twitches and my heart beats faster just at the thought of her waiting there. How can she have such power over me? Make me ache for her after only two nights together? I let out a deep sigh of relief when I see her bag on the floor and smile when I spot her in the chair by the window.
“How did you get in?” I ask innocently, shuffling from one foot to the other.
“I think you know exactly how I got in.” She raises a brow and looks amused, sitting back with one leg crossed over the other. “You’ve been checking up on me. Find anything interesting?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Only that you never checked in and that your last name is Ferguson. Although I doubt that’s your real name since you’re sitting here now and have not only managed to get into your own room without a key card, but also into mine. How did you know what room I was in anyway?” I close the door behind me, walk over to her and step in between her legs as she uncrosses them.
“Well done, Sherlock.” The sexual tension between us immediately flares up when she slides a hand up my leg. “Now I have a problem, though. They called the room and I’m not sure if it’s safe to stay there anymore since you went snooping around.” Her smile tells me she almost expected me to do what I did. “Don’t worry,” she adds when she sees me biting my lip. “It’s okay, but now I have nowhere to sleep tonight. It’s a big day tomorrow and I’m really, really tired. Can I stay here? Your room number is written on the packet containing your key card, by the way. You left it on the bar yesterday.”
The surprise on my face must be obvious because for a split second, a flash of insecurity settles over her devilishly attractive features. I know she’s not the sleepover type, but then I suppose I’ve messed up her original plan, whatever that was. There’s no point asking because she’ll never tell me. “You want to spend the night here?”
“Yeah, I do. Or what’s left of the night, anyway. I’ll find another place tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say, trying not to sound too excited as I kick off my heels. “I’m here until Tuesday so you can stay tomorrow too, if you want.”
Getting up from the chair, she grabs hold of the hem of my dress and slowly lifts it up, inch by inch. I know she likes that I’m not wearing any panties; I didn’t bother to put them back on when I left her room because they were ripped, and they ended up in my purse instead. My bra seemed to be missing too so I gave up on looking for it. I shiver when I lift my arms as she pulls my dress over my head, revealing my naked body. She looks me up and down with intense hunger in her eyes, then shakes her head and composes herself. “As much as I want you right now, I’ll let you sleep for a while. We both need it.”
9
Her stirring beside wakes me up and I look at the clock on my nightstand. It’s only four am and I’m grateful that I still have a couple of hours left before my alarm goes off. I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically, but when I close my eyes again, I miss her, so I turn to watch her sleep instead.
I want to hold her, but the intimacy of doing so scares me. I’ve never felt the need to hold someone in bed, and I’ve never liked my partners holding me either. Sometimes I’ve let them, just because it seemed like the right thing to do, but I always escaped from their arms as soon as they dozed off.