Chapter 9
Recent transactions:
We sneak through the men’s changing room toward the elevator, leaving a trail of pool water behind us like breadcrumbs. The
air-conditioning is blasting throughout the hotel, keeping the temperature at a neutral sixty-six degrees. Since checking
in, I haven’t noticed this at all. But now, soaking wet in this morning’s clothes, my whole body starts to shiver. The bell
dings at our floor, and, once checking the coast is clear, Oliver takes my hand, leading me into his hotel room down a familiar
hallway. Twenty-four hours ago, the idea of sneaking around with someone seemed unfathomable, but now it’s like the universe
knew this is exactly what I needed.
His hand loops around my waist as we step through the door with our clothes squelching.
I’m freezing cold, but the desire to have him all over me again feels like a bonfire that’s raging a little too hard for comfort.
The contrast has goose bumps skirting across my skin.
He turns the lights on, revealing his room.
It’s slightly nicer than mine but not as neat.
His clothes are still bundled in a suitcase, whereas mine are all hung up in the wardrobe.
Some of his towels are draped over the bathroom door to dry, whereas mine are arranged neatly in a pile by the sink.
His bed is rumpled, like he was lying on top of it earlier, whereas mine looks like the maid already came for turndown service.
Things were already getting heavy in the hot tub, but this feels new, like the stakes are higher now we are somewhere private.
Somewhere there won’t be a flashlight shone in our eyes at any second, nothing to stop us.
“Sure you’re okay with this?” Oliver asks, his eyes dark as he searches my expression for any sign of hesitancy.
It’s like Cecily said, I just need to let my hair down for one night.
I nod, lifting my chin back up to kiss him.
His large hand takes the side of my face and eases me against the door, our wet clothes dripping onto the carpet in rhythmic
thuds. He leans in to place his mouth on mine, but I rest a hand on his warm chest. “We need to take our clothes off.”
Looking sheepishly at the floor, Oliver’s hazel eyes eventually flick back to meet mine. “Okay, sure. Whatever you wanna do.”
I stumble over my words. “I—I don’t mean like that; we’re both soaking. We’re going to die of hypothermia.”
“Well, if it’s a matter of life and death.” He smiles wide. “Come with me.”
I try to contain a blush as he leads me into the marble bathroom.
His is bigger than mine, with a freestanding tub and a walk-in shower with dual showerheads on opposing sides of the wall.
He takes me by the hand and stands me just shy of the shower, holding out his free hand and running the water until it’s a warm temperature.
My heart pounds, watching his back muscles shift under his shirt as he adjusts the showerhead.
My rigid shoulders ease the moment I step into the warm water’s path. Letting it seep into my shirt until the painful cold
melts away. I try to focus my eyes on anywhere but him as he steps into the opposing stream of water and sighs, running his
hands through his hair and undoing his shirt one torturous button at a time.
Despite the water, my mouth goes bone-dry when he turns his back and slides his shirt off, exposing the tanned muscles underneath.
His hair looks darker under the soft shower lights, messy and undone compared to the more work-appropriate look it’s usually
styled into. I try to breathe normally, but my heartbeat has reached the back of my throat, blocking off regular air supply.
Okay, you haven’t taken any of your clothes off. You could step out of the shower, go back to your room a few doors down,
and never see him again.
Maybe that’s the excitement, knowing we are in another country and I’m never going to see him again. That he doesn’t even
know my real name, his phone is somewhere in his room. The door is shut, no cameras. In here, I’m safe from scrutiny, from
consequences. Little did Oliver know, this is the perfect place for me to feel comfortable. I close my eyes and run the steaming
water through my hair, triggering goose bumps to run wild over my body. When I open them again, I find him staring at me.
His eyes flick up from my chest to my face without a word. I glance down, my nipples hard against the wet cotton of my shirt.
A thrill runs up my spine, following the path of fire his eyes made on my body.
Slowly, with trembling fingers, I start to unbutton my shirt.
His mouth twitches as he watches me, water pooling between my hands as they fumble on the slick buttons.
His hands are by his side, fingers itching to move.
His breathing deepens, matching mine, as my lace bra is exposed under the water.
It’s almost completely see-through at this point but still feels like the final thing keeping my resolve in place.
My shirt drops to the floor with a slap.
His straight mouth curves into a satisfied smile when I gesture at his trousers with my chin. I can already see the outline
of his erection. I felt it in the hot tub before we ran here, but as he undoes his belt and unzips his trousers, dropping
them to the floor and kicking them to the corner of the shower, my heart starts to palpitate so hard I can hear it in my eardrums.
I want this. I want him.
I undo my trousers and they drop to my ankles with a thud. Trying to kick them off my feet almost knocks me over, not the
sexy move I had in my mind. One swift movement would have had me standing gloriously in my mismatched underwear, but of course,
I nearly fall over trying to get them off me. My foot slips, and I catch the soap holder before feeling a hand on my calf,
easing the wet fabric away from my skin. I look down to find molten hazel eyes looking up at me, framed by dark wet hair and
soft lips. His hand is soft but calloused, brushing down my leg before throwing the lump of clothes we’ve both taken off into
a pile in the corner.
“I never liked business casual anyway,” I say, unable to think of anything vaguely sexy.
“Me neither.” His hand smooths across my leg and grips the back of my knee, bringing it to his lips like a prince would do a gloved hand. “But now I’m a huge fan.”
My laugh comes off as more of a scoff than I intended it to, and I look up at his showerhead to avoid the alluring stare coming
from below until I feel him shift. A soft graze of the hand slowly moving up the side of my thigh until it reaches my waist,
and a shadow forms over my cheek. Our eyes meet, tiny droplets of water coating his eyelashes like frost on morning grass.
I shudder under his gaze, soft but intense. He hasn’t asked me outright yet, but I can feel his demeanor shift as he starts
to think I’m regretting the decision to be here. Like he’s desperately trying to read me, but the book is in a language he’s
never seen before. He inches back until just the tips of his fingers stroke my waist. I feel his heart racing, pounding hard
against my hand, and for some reason that eases any uncertainty I had left.
“Hotter now?” his voice teases as his eyes gleam.
“Much, much hotter now,” I say. I slide my hand around to the back of his neck and pull him closer to me. His palm drifts
through my hair, using a gentle grip to maneuver my face upward toward his. At the same time, we pull each other into our
orbit, our lips grazing chastely like we haven’t just been drunk and messily making out in a hot tub. In hindsight that seemed
like a playful moment we could easily forget about. Chalk it up to needing to let off steam after a bad day at work, the adrenaline
of not getting caught, or the rejuvenation of being away from home. This feels different. This feels like it’s seared into
my memory before it’s even begun.
The smallest fraction of sense shines through, and I pull away. “I’m clean and on the pill.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter; I’m just in here to shower,” he says into my mouth, a laugh erupting from us in unison. “I’m clean too,” he says before kissing me again.
We turn frantic, like we know this is the first and last time we’ll be here so we might as well go on all the rides. He pulls
urgently at my waist as his lips trail down my neck to my breasts, kissing over the wet lace as his hands smooth up my back
to the clasp. Like a pro, he handles it with ease. He leaves me to take the fabric off like a piece of fruit being peeled
before it can be fully consumed. He draws in a deep breath as he revels in me, mouth opening, then closing as he tries to
find a sentence but comes up with nothing. Instead, he moves his mouth back to where it was, this time with barely a scrap
of fabric. His tongue plays with my nipple as he cups my breast. My hands balance on his hips, running over the elastic waistband
of his boxers and tracing the outline of the smattering of hair below his navel. He moans as my hand travels to the front
of his boxers, pressing lightly against the cotton fabric to find he’s rock-hard. My mouth salivates at the thought of him
inside me, pressing me up against the tiles and fucking me until I can’t see straight. His hand dips under the side of my
thong, making me jump as he snaps it against my hip. He smirks, taking my chin in one hand as he uses the other to dip between
my legs, running a finger against the fabric.
“These are so wet,” he says.
“How can you tell?” I ask, my voice ragged.
“I meant from the water.” He smiles, kissing the matching smile from my mouth as my cheeks go hot. My teeth pull on his lips.
I have never wanted anything so badly in my life.
He spins me around so my hands are pressed against the wall; the water runs down my back for a few seconds then stops as his figure blocks out the stream.
He kisses down my back as he eases the underwear off me, kissing up the back of my legs so slowly I want to scream.
I want to touch myself because he isn’t doing it.
By the time his lips meet my upper thighs, I feel his fingers running from my ankles, following the same route his mouth has just taken.
His lips make their way to my shoulders, up my neck before reaching my ear.
“There’s no water on you now. Shall we see if you’re still wet?”
I swallow and nod as his fingers wind up my inner thigh, slowly dipping in from behind until I’m shaking with anticipation.
I can’t help the noise from escaping my mouth, the whimper that leaves me as his fingers dance over my skin. The low ache
is almost painful. He works me, slow rhythmic circles back and forth until I realize I’m the one moving my hips to the same
rhythm, helplessly using him to get myself off in a way I’ve never done with anyone before. His free hand smooths over me,
guiding me even more as he adds more pressure, pressing harder against me. It slides over my hips as he works me from the
front; I grip his forearm for support, feeling the muscles moving under my taut fingers. Feeling the way he touches me as he touches me. Coming out of my own body and seeing what he sees, feeling what he feels as the sensation builds and builds
within me. Rubbing circles around my resolve until I’m about to collapse.
Fuck is the only word in my vocabulary as he’s effectively holding me upright, working his mouth against my neck and behind my
ear. “Just keep—” I can barely get my words out as he breathes a laugh against my ear.
“Stay like this?” he asks. “Want me to keep touching you like this?”
“Yes, but . . . more,” I say, not knowing if that sentence makes sense.
He understands, pressing harder and increasing the pressure. My knees begin to shake as he knocks them apart, spreading me
wider as he adds another finger. Plunging in and out, working me into a frenzy so intense it takes me over the edge in waves
of pleasure. Drawing a climax out of me that feels like it lasts forever. I’m shuddering as his left hand presses against
the glass wall, causing condensation mist to gather, creating an imprint of his fingers.
We pull apart, both out of breath, as the steam from the two showerheads begins to completely fill the space. I turn, leaning
my head back against the tile.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sucking in steam with every breath.
“Yeah, I just need a second, dizzy,” I say, not fully comprehending whether the cause is him or the steam.
“We should probably slow down.” His chest heaves, and his forehead lowers to my shoulder.
I stick my lip out playfully as he turns off the shower and adjusts my underwear back. “Don’t worry, there’s still a whole
hotel room.” He points his head to the closed bathroom door. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
He smiles through the mist, giving me one last kiss that scatters my resolve across the floor and down the drain.