“Have we got time for some more sexy times before we have to check out?” I asked.
She grimaced. “Checkout is in half an hour.”
“Shit.”
“Sorry, I should have woken you, but I was enjoying watching you sleep and thinking about what I could do with that.” She pointed at my morning glory.
“So ... you’ve been thinking about sex?”
“Yeah.”
I sat up next to her and flashed her a grin. “If we’ve only got half an hour, I’d better share that big shower with you.”
She jumped off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. “Okay, but no funny business.”
“I’m deadly serious, Lacey.” Sliding off the bed, I padded after her.
She was already under the water when I reached the bathroom. Opening the door, I stepped in with her and shut it behind me so that the spray rushed over us—luke-fucking-warm, I might add because Lacey hated hot showers—I let her lather up her hair with the complimentary shampoo and did the same with my own. Rinsing it quicker, I threw some shower gel over my skin and rinsed that off as well while she’d only just applied the conditioner. I spun her around so her back was to me and began to lather her tits.
“Rory!” she admonished.
“You know I can make us both come in a matter of seconds, Lace. Are you saying no?”
There was a hesitation, and I braced myself to pull away.
“I’m not saying no, Ro. Just hurry the fuck up because the extra charge will come off my credit card if we’re late.”
“Such a romantic,” I teased.
She turned in my arms and pushed herself against the slick wall. “You’re fucking me in a hotel shower. It’s meant to be hot and dirty, not romantic.” She glanced down and I followed her gaze to where she was playing with her own clit.
“That’s my job,” I rasped.
“Like I said, hurry the fuck up.”
My lips were on hers before my mind had the chance to catch up with my body. I lifted her by the arse against the wall, cradling her head and back with one arm while holding her up with the other. Even in my lust-filled craze I knew to protect her from physical harm.
She reached between us and pushed my cock inside her. I fucked her hard and fast against the Hilton room shower wall, holding my own orgasm off until she cried out.
Letting the memory of her dripping wet and pleasuring herself for me tip me over the edge, I tensed and came with a guttural roar as my vision blurred. I didn’t give a fuck how many other hotel guests heard me.
Once my ability to see returned, I grabbed some shower gel and washed Lacey. I made sure the conditioner was rinsed from her hair and stepped out of the shower first to hold up a big fluffy towel to wrap her in.
She walked into it, and I pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Was I too rough?”
She frowned. “Not at all. You know we’ve only got about ten minutes now, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I can be quick.”
“I’ll tie my hair back in a ponytail and dry it when I get home.”
WE GOT DOWNSTAIRS AND checked out a few minutes late, but the receptionist smiled and waved away Lacey’s apology. We were passing some sofas near the main door of the hotel when an unmistakeable voice filled the lobby.
“Lacey. Good grief. What have I told you about going out with wet hair?”
Lacey put her “Surprise!” smile on and turned to where the voice had come from. Maureen stood frowning at me.
“Hi Mum. Are you and Dad heading home?”
“Yes. Jonas is coming home too as the schools are off. He’s bringing someone home this week. A man.”
“Simon?”
Maureen folded her arms over her chest and frowned. “You know about Simon?”
Lacey glanced around. I wasn’t sure if she was hoping for Jonas to appear or a magic escape hatch. “I know he’s been seeing him.”
“So you know ...”
Lacey rolled her eyes and huffed. “Mum, Jonas told you he’s gay when he was seventeen.”
“I know, but he never brought anyone home.”
“He’s never had a long-term relationship that I know of.”
Maureen waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “I guess since you brought him home at nineteen, I was always braced for Jonas to bring someone home. When he never did, I thought maybe I dodged the broken heart bullet with my son.”
Ouch. She knew how to stick the knife in.
“Mum, about me and Rory ...” Lacey glanced at me and then squared her shoulders before facing her mum again.
“I have nothing to say about him or to him. I can never trust him again.”
“Mrs Kendrick,” I began. It was time to try to mend the fences.
I started forward but Maureen Kendrick’s seething glare stopped me mid-step.
“No. You’re worthless. You always were and you always will be.”
“Mum, that’s horrible!” Lacey shook her head, her lips parted as her mother turned on her heel and strode away.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. At the age of eight I had been caught stealing six bread rolls, a pack of butter, and a pack of sliced ham from a minimart so I could make myself lunch for school. The owner spent twenty minutes berating me for stealing, not even realising I was stealing food instead of cigarettes, alcohol, or sweets. She’d called me worthless. And now, the only person I’d ever seen as a mother figure had called me worthless too.
Perhaps she was right. I wasn’t good enough for Lacey. Love wasn’t enough—not when her parents hated me so much.
“Don’t you dare take that from her,” came a voice from behind us.
“Jonas?” Lacey swivelled round, and I rolled my eyes.
Jonas stepped into my eyeline. “You caused a lot of hurt when you broke up with Big, but it’s the past. I can tell you love her—I could see it in your eyes last night. For God’s sake, man, grow some balls and come up to Glencoe with Lacey. She’s supposed to be coming up tomorrow, and I hope she still is. Simon and I need a buffer.”
I scowled. “They fucking hate me.”
Jonas shook his head. “Nah, they don’t. If they hated you, they wouldn’t still be carrying a grudge and acting like this. They loved you—they still do. They think of you like a son who turned his back on his family.”
“I don’t know.” I slipped my hand around Lacey’s waist. “What do you think, babe?”
“Maybe if we don’t stay at Mum and Dad’s?”
“It’s the Easter holidays. Glencoe will be jam-packed with tourists,” Jonas said.
She narrowed her gaze. “Wasn’t Anthony McNab’s parents opening wigwams this season?”
“In May, I think.”
She scrolled through her phone contacts and hit dial. “Hey Mrs McNab, it’s Lacey Kendrick here ... Yeah, nice to speak to you too ... I have a weird request. Are your wigwams up yet? ... Mmmhmm ... It’s just me and my boyfriend need a place to stay. I can’t stay at my parents’ place, and you know Glencoe will be packed. I know you’re not meant to be open, but would you rent us a wigwam?”