Chapter 9
Erin
Demetri had been extra tense on the plane. It was one of those stay-out-of-his-way-or-get-bitched-out kinds of days. On those days he was more high maintenance than usual, which meant every little thing was more difficult—including checking in to a hotel with an already confirmed reservation.
Seeing Jacob in the lobby didn’t help. What was he doing in Minneapolis? More importantly, I wanted to know why every part of my body reacted to seeing him like I was being shocked. My hair stood on end when Demetri noticed me staring.
Don’t start hiding things from me.
I let the door to my room slam behind me, and I dropped my bags onto the bed with a huff. I sat down, sinking into the probably-too-soft-for-my-liking mattress, and I fell onto my back. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths, counting in for four and out for four until my body felt like it had stopped shaking. For a moment, I thought I might fall asleep.
Then I saw his face and the smirk he gave me when our eyes met across the hotel. My eyes snapped open, and my core churned with a sudden need. I wanted to feel his hands on me again—wanted to feel him inside of me. I groaned.
I reached for my bag, unzipping it and reaching under a pair of sweaters for my vibrator. I pulled it out, thankful I had decided to pack it. Suddenly, the tension building in me was overwhelming. I set the battery-powered toy on my stomach, working quickly on my jeans. The zipper cut through the silence, and I closed my eyes, working the denim restraints past my knees and kicking them onto the floor.
My lace panties were soft on my fingertips, and they were damp. I slid them to the side, slipping my fingers between my lips to circle my clit. I lifted my hips, imagining I wasn’t alone. I tried to picture anyone but Jacob, but the more I thought about others, the more he popped into my mind until it was like I was humping his hand instead.
Frustration churned in my stomach with my arousal. I reached for the vibrator, turning it on and running it along the inside of my thighs. When I passed over my mound, I imagined it was Jacob forcing my legs apart and guiding the toy along my pussy. I had barely pressed the vibrator past my lips when my phone started to ring on the bedspread next to me.
Elizabeth.
“Not happening,” I grumbled, hitting the button to ignore the call. I laid my head back, returning the vibrator to the cleft between my legs. I moaned, hoping it’d drop me back into the mindset. I closed my eyes, trying to picture Jacob’s dark eyes. I tried to imagine what his beard would feel like against my skin.
Then my phone rang again. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted, sitting upright.
Elizabeth.
I tossed the vibrator onto the bed next to me, hitting the button to answer the call. “What do you want now, Liz?”
She gasped. “Do you have to be so rude every time I call you?” I rolled my eyes in response to her faux pity. “What if I just wanted to say hi?”
“Do you just want to say hi?” I asked. When I stood up, my vibrator rolled off the side of the mattress and dropped, landing between the nightstand and the bed. I pinched my nose between my fingers, making a mental note to pick it up after the call. “I didn’t think so,” I said when she hesitated.
Liz prepared to throw a fit on the other end of the line. I could tell by the sharp inhale and the forced whimpers when she exhaled. When she sighed dramatically, I cut her off. “I’m not even home. Whatever it is you need, I can’t help you. You’ll have to call someone else.”
“Fine.” She was pouting, and her voice sounded almost slurred. Had she been drinking? “Some sister.”
“Bye, Liz.” I hung up the phone before she could say something else to attempt to guilt trip me. I was done feeling guilty. My sister had walked all over me for years, taking advantage every chance she could of the fact I would do almost anything for her.
It felt good to tell her no, but a small twinge of shame pinged at my stomach. Before she called, I was imagining her ex-boyfriend between my legs. I didn’t regret thinking about Jacob though. All I regretted was that I stopped to answer the phone instead of turning my phone off completely.
I stared at the rustled sheets and my strewn open bag and sighed. “I need a drink,” I said, stuffing my phone in my pocket. I’d clean up the room later.
“What’ll you have, toots?” the far-too-cheery-to-be-working-at-a-hotel-bar bartender asked, rolling her lips while she waited for my answer.
I tapped my fingers against the counter, torn between the usual glass of wine and a shot of whiskey. Since I’d seen Jacob during check-in, he was all I could think about. He made me crave something strong, like whiskey, but it was a bad look for me to drown myself in shots on a business trip when my too-strict-for-his-own-good boss could walk in at any moment.
“Pinot noir,” I finally said. The bartender looked disappointed in my boring order.
She grabbed a glass and filled it, pausing with the full glass in her hand. “So what brings you to Minneapolis?”
“Business.” I reached for the stem, taking a desperate gulp of the dark red wine. “Nothing special.”
The bartender nodded. “So do you have a husband?”
I took another drink of wine to swallow the groan that built in my throat. She was one of those bartenders that couldn’t wait to chitchat with the patrons, but the only company I wanted was the half-full glass in front of me. I took another gulp and shook my head. “No, I’m not married.”
“Me either.” She shrugged, pointing to the glass in my hand to silently offer me a refill. I swallowed the last gulp, sliding the glass over to her. “I could go for a guy like that though.” The bartender nodded to point.
I glanced over my shoulder to see who she was talking about, and when I saw Jacob with his friends, I snapped my head back. I put my hand up casually to block the side of my face, spinning on the stool until my back was to the three men. The bartender raised an eyebrow, likely trying to figure out why I was suddenly playing the worst ever game of hide-and-seek.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Jacob said, followed by a couple low grumbles from his friends.
I took the fresh glass from the bartender, trying to steady my shaking hands. The glass rattled against the counter when I set it down. I knew when the bartender looked over my shoulder, Jacob was there. Just before I smelled him, he pulled out the barstool next to me.
“Are you following me?” I asked. How could he have known I’d be in Minneapolis? That I’d be at this hotel?
Jacob chuckled, noting the full glass in front of me and waving at the bartender with his pointer finger. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey.” Her eyes lit up and she busied herself pouring it for him and batting her lashes while she did.
“I’m here for work,” I said after a long gulp of wine. Jacob watched me swallow, and when he didn’t respond, my nerves started to buzz. He didn’t move his eyes from me, even when I looked away. “You?” I finally asked, hoping he’d stop staring once he started talking.
He didn’t. “My buddy Darren is turning 40 this weekend. We’re here for a celebration of sorts.” He tossed back his shot, tipping the glass towards the bartender to ask for another. “Two more, please.”
The bartender started to pour two more shots. “How long are you here?” I asked him. Why did I care?
“A few more days. You?” Jacob watched me from the corner of his eye when he answered.
I shrugged. “A few more days.”
He smirked, and I swore his eyes sparkled. The bartender set the two shots in front of us. “Maybe I’ll see you around then,” he said, stepping away from the barstool.
“You haven’t taken your shots.” I pointed to the glasses in front of the confused bartender, lifting a brow.
Jacob laughed. “You take them. You look like you could loosen up a bit.” When he winked at me, my stomach turned. Maybe he was right. I could loosen up a bit. “Have a good night, red.”
Butterflies raced to my throat. “Good night, Jacob.” I held my breath while he walked away, watching his casual stride until he turned the corner. Before he did, he glanced back over his shoulder, and the smile he gave me dared me to follow him. I gripped the counter instead, like it’d keep me in place.
Next to me, the bartender whistled, drawing my attention back to her. “Holy shit, that man is hot,” she said dramatically. “You’re not going after him?”
I shook my head. “He’s my sister’s ex-boyfriend.” The discontent in my voice was obvious, and she dropped her jaw.
“And?” The bartender slid one of the shots towards me, shrugging and picking up the other. “Do you like your sister?” Judging by the sideways look she gave me, she already knew I wasn’t Liz’s biggest fan. I probably said that clearly with whatever expression was plastered on my face.
“Not really.” I lifted the glass, tapping it to hers before I poured the shot into my mouth.
The bartender cringed when she did the same. “Ugh. I hate whiskey,” she groaned. She set the glass down and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m just saying. I’d let that man do really nasty things to me, and I’d thank him for it after.”
So would I. I looked at the almost empty glass of red wine and the shot glass next to it. It was going to be a long couple of days. “Give me another one of those shots.”