4. Drew
As much as I hadn’t wanted to attend tonight’s event, I wanted to make a good impression on the network who hosted the fundraiser.
I planned to leave after the auction, knowing that my duties were fulfilled, but I spotted her.
I hadn’t known her name, but she was the most beautiful woman I had ever set eyes on.
It was her chartreuse-green eyes against her rich brown skin, her elegant poise, and the way she moved around the room, as if she were a casual observer, that captivated me. I had to have her.
While I couldn’t see all the features of her face, I could see the full, pouty, heart-shaped lips and the delicate chin.
Her lips were sensual and alluring, and I wanted to kiss them again.
I wanted to touch that gorgeous caramel skin that covered every inch of her slim-thick body, which was toned like a dancer’s.
Once I escorted her back inside, she headed to the front desk to grab her luggage.
She explained that she had checked in earlier but didn’t have time to go to her room because she was running late.
Several planes into Southwest Florida International Airport had been grounded or delayed.
She said hers had been delayed, and then there was the issue of traffic.
With the approaching hurricane, there was an evacuation order in place around Naples that created a traffic nightmare.
After she got her luggage, a lady stopped her to speak with her. She thanked me and turned her attention to the lady. I was disappointed, but I knew a dismissal when I saw one. I returned to my room with a small wish that we would see each other again.
I had just stepped out of the shower, and I was having thoughts about the beautiful woman who had demanded that I kiss her, when I heard the snicking of my hotel door as if someone was coming inside.
I had only used a towel to dry my hair because I preferred to air dry. I stepped out of the bathroom to see what was going on.
“Ohh! What—what are you doing in my room?” a woman asked.
It was her. The woman who stepped inside of my room was the same one I kissed earlier. I would know those beautiful green eyes with flecks of gold anywhere, and her voice was emblazoned on my mind like that of a familiar lover.
“It’s my room, and do you mind closing the door?”
“You’re him—the guy who kissed . . . I mean saved me. I would know that voice and those eyes anywhere.” Her eyes dropped to my lips.
She stood gripping the handle of her luggage with one hand, her purse looped over that same shoulder, and her free hand gripped the door handle, keeping it open. Her gaze dropped to my dick. A slow smile slid across my lips. She caught me smiling and closed the door behind her.
“Sorry,” she apologized.
“Now—you were saying this is your room, but this is the room number they gave me, and my key card easily opened the door,” I explained.
“Same. Obviously, there’s some mix-up.”
“We can call the front desk. Let me get dressed first.”
She bobbed her head and chewed on her bottom lip but didn’t say a word. I grabbed a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie and dressed while she had her back turned to me.
“I checked in online before I even arrived,” she explained when I sat on the side of the bed and lifted the hotel phone.
“No problem. We’ll get it all sorted out. I’m sure it was an honest mix-up, and I can get them to give me another room.”
“You don’t have to do t
hat. You were in here first. Clearly, you’ve showered and gotten comfortable. Meanwhile, there was me—downstairs mingling.”
I called the front desk and waited for someone to answer. “Hey, I’m Andrew Jennings, and I’m in room 402. There appears to be a mix-up as the room has been double booked.” I looked at her to see if she recognized my name, but there were no signs of recognition on her face. Relief washed over me.
I listened as the front desk clerk searched their records to determine where the mix-up was.
“Okay, that’s fine. We’re not blaming anyone. We just wanted to request a new room for one of us. I’d be happy to take another room.”
“Or me.” She raised her hand and smiled at me.
I bobbed my head. “Either me or Ms. . . .” I looked back at her.
“Mercier.”
“Ms. Mercier says that she’ll take another room too.”
I listened again while the clerk muttered as she checked the records. “Sure, I’ll hold.”
I looked over at her. “They’ve asked me to hold. You can sit down and make yourself comfortable while we get this straightened out. You’ve been on your feet all evening; you must be tired.”
She smiled and sighed as she took a seat on the couch. I held for another two minutes before someone different came on the line and announced that she was the manager. She apologized for the inconvenience but explained they had no other rooms available due to the storm.
“What do you mean there aren’t any available rooms? I know that we both booked a suite, but you’ve got to have something else. I’ll take a regular room.”
I listened as she explained that was the problem: There were no other rooms at all.
There were many conventions in town, despite the hurricane, and they had extra guests because residents decided to hole up at the hotel to ensure they had power since they knew their homes might be without power.
The mix-up occurred because of new booking software.
It enabled people to make reservations online but, apparently, didn't do a thorough job of researching reservations made by the staff at the front desk.
I looked up at Ms. Mercier when she asked, “What are they saying?”
“They have no other rooms. We’ll have to share, but they’re willing to refund our money.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! This is so unprofessional. May I speak with them?”
“Sure.” I handed her the phone when she strode over to where I sat.
She took the phone, and I smelled the delicate scent of her perfume again.The closeness of her body sent my mind into overdrive.
All the things that I would like to do to her, the way that she tasted when I kissed her, and the way she moved in my arms and against my body as I danced created a heady elixir. All that led to one painful arousal.
I dropped my head in my hands, trying to eliminate those thoughts, just as I heard her say, “Yes. Yes, I understand. No, that won’t be necessary. Yes, please refund the money. Thank you.”
She tapped me on the arm, and I glanced up. She looked apologetic as she handed the phone back to me. “Any luck?” I asked.
“No.” She dropped down on the bed beside me. “The only thing they offered in addition to refunding our rooms was free room service and a free future stay. I accepted the room service on your behalf, and declined the free future stay—for me, not for you.”
“So, what are we gonna do? There’s a hurricane out there, and we can’t leave the hotel to find another one.”
“I know. According to their records, you booked the room just minutes before I did. I guess it’s yours. I’ll head to the lobby and rant until they give me covers and a pillow. I can crash in the lobby and head out early in the morning. The storm should be over by then.”
“You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I.” I gripped her hand that pressed against her thigh.
She looked at me. “I don’t understand.”
“We’re two adults who can work through our problems. We worked through one very well earlier this evening.”
She laughed, and I loved the sound of it. “We did. I apologize for pulling you into that.”
“I willingly stepped in to save the day.”
“I’m sure that you didn’t expect that to include kissing a damsel in distress.”
“I could only hope that it included that.”
Her eyes widened, and her chest heaved. She was no longer wearing the red-and-black mask she wore earlier, but she still wore the formfitting red satin evening gown and red, high-heeled shoes.
She stared at me for a long time, and I took the opportunity to take in her delicate features: the sharpness of her prominent cheekbones, the natural arch of her thick eyebrows, and her small nose.
She briefly licked her plump lips as she pulled a hand through her chestnut-brown hair which hung to the middle of her back.
The caramel streaks that I’d seen in her hair earlier weren’t as noticeable underneath the dim room lights.
While I couldn’t make out her body shape in its entirety, I could tell that she was slim with the perfect amount of thickness.
She swallowed when she realized how intense my stare was, so I decided to let her off the hook.
“How about you go shower and get into something comfortable? I’m going to take them up on their offer of free room service. Anything in particular you’d like?”
“Whatever—I’m not a picky person.”
“Cool. Relax, and your food should be waiting for you when you come out.”
“Don’t forget a pot of fresh coffee. I love drinking coffee to unwind after an event.”
She hopped off the bed and darted to the bathroom. The sexual tension between us was thick, and I knew that we wouldn’t make it through the night without tackling it.
“I love that your parents took one look at you and decided your name would be ‘Pretty.’”
She dipped her head. “Like I said, technically, it’s Jolie.”
“Which means ‘pretty’ in French.”
“Yeah. When kids learned that, they would tease me at times, but children can be cruel.”
“I’ll bet you were a gorgeous child.”
“I was often told that. I never let it go to my head, though. My parents were fascinated with the color of my skin versus my eye color.”
“And the rest of your name. It’s French, right? Are you French?”
“No. I’m not French, but my father is, and yes, I do speak some French. My mother is Nigerian, but she is from England.”
We had just finished eating the feast that I ordered from room service, and we were sitting on the couch watching TV, or rather it was watching us.
Because I watched her all night, I could tell that she was the artist whose works the show highlighted.
It was evident that she took a personal stake in the patrons’ interest in the art based on how her shoulders grew tight if someone made a less than pleasing remark about the painting, or how she moved on when someone complimented it, as though she was assured of its value.
I knew who she was, but she had no idea who I was.
Even after I dropped my name, she still appeared clueless, and I loved that.
I’d had enough groupies throughout my career that I didn’t need another one.
I’d started randomly talking about sports to see her reaction, and that was when she explained that she wasn’t into sports at all.
“I’d love to hear you speak it.”
“No, we were supposed to be talking about why I hate sports.”
“You can tell me all about it . . . in French. That way it would be more bearable, and my heart won’t break.”
She laughed, and it felt good that I brought it about, because I could tell that it came from deep within her soul. The other thing that I noticed about her this evening was there was a sadness about her, one that she didn’t seem to easily discard.
I stared at her.
“What?”
“For some reason, I have the feeling you haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
“I haven’t. This night has been cathartic,” she confessed. Her eyes held a deep yearning, and her voice was soft, almost like she was looking for permission to speak.
“Then his perception was true.”
“Excuse me?”
“Will Nevels. He perceived that you had been through some challenging times, and that was where the depth of your painting had come from. He was right.”
She bit down on her lower lip and chewed thoughtfully as she ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her coffee cup. “Of course, he was.”
“Why did you give the man such a hard time?”
She scoffed. “Because he pretended to be interested in my work when all he really wanted to do was bed me. If you want to sleep with me, then say that. Don’t pretend that you’re interested in my works when you aren’t.”
“I have it on good authority that he purchased a painting though.”
“Whose authority?”
I chuckled softly, and she pressed her hand against her belly as though the sound had hit her low and deep. “Mine. I overheard him talking with your agent, and then I saw him buying it.”
“Mm.”
“Is that all you have to say.”
Shrugging, she replied, “It doesn’t really matter one way or the other.”
“You seem bothered.”
“I just want to be respected, you know? If you want to sleep with me, say it. You can appreciate my works and still want to do the other. It’s okay to be honest about that.”
“That’s fair.”
“I mean, take you for instance. You seem like the type of man who would tell a woman straight out that he wants to sleep with her.”
“I would never tell you that.” A daring smirk danced on my lips.
“Are you trying to say that you don't find me attractive?”
My gaze grew bolder as I surveyed her face and checked out her body without apology. I had been right in my assessment about her shape. She had curvy thighs and hips, an average-sized ass, and roughly a C-cup in her breast size. She was fine, but with an athletic tone.
I reached out and removed her coffee cup from her fingers. The moment our fingers touched and our eyes met, I could see her struggling not to flinch underneath my stare or squirm as I touched her. I linked our fingers, and a familiar heat, like an old friend, rushed between us.
“I’m definitely attracted to you. But trust me, if I take a woman to bed, we won’t be sleeping. I’m only taking a woman to bed to fuck her.”
Her head jerked back slightly, and her nostrils flared.
“Oh. Wow.” This time, she couldn’t help but squirm and flinch as my bold gaze consumed her like fire licking up water.