Chapter 33 Girl’s Be Slangin’
Chapter thirty-three
Girl's Be Slangin'
A few hours and one short connecting flight later, we walk into the plush resort rejuvenated from our nap, and I can't help but glance over at Sarah, seeing her mouth gaped open.
“Careful. A mosquito will fly in there, and you’ll have a bite on your throat,” I laugh, chucking her under her chin gently and successfully shaking her out of her daze.
She laughs at my joke, and I delight at the sparkle in her eye, wondering if she knows it's there.
“Are all the presenters staying here?” she wonders curiously as I walk her to the receptionist area and proceed to check us in.
"How are you doing, ma'am?" I greet the receptionist and then tilt my head to eye Sarah. "Just about, yes."
Sarah watches with an arched eyebrow as the brown-haired woman flirts with me, audaciously sliding me a card with her personal number on it when she hands me our room key.
I arch my eyebrow back, not even bothering myself with the woman.
She looks away with an amused grin as I slide the card back to the receptionist. “I’m with someone,” I clip, giving her a polite smile before turning away and jerking my chin at Sarah to walk with me.
We board the swanky all-mirrored elevator, and I use the reflection to gaze down her body in a quick assessment that she misses because she's busy staring at the numbers going up as we ascend to our floor.
“I made reservations for dinner at four," I say lightly. She's quiet since the interaction, and I work to get us back to where we were. "I figured we might be hungry due to the time difference. We feel like it’s seven when it’s actually four here.” The doors slide open, and I hold out my arm, letting her exit the elevator first.
Walking through, she makes a sharp left, following the signs to our room. “I could eat. What do they have?”
“Not sure,” I lie. A white lie. I of course know everything on the menu and have already spent a few nights torturing myself with fantasizing about watching her eat half of it. “And anyways, don’t worry about it because I’m paying for your food while you’re here.”
She stops at a door hidden at the end of the hall and turns to look at me with an arched brow. “Alexander—”
“Alex,” I shoot back, arching my own eyebrow at her in amusement.
“Alex," she replies slowly with an adorable smile, making my chest tighten. "That is completely unnecessary. I can pay for my own food while I’m here. You already got the room.” She sucks her bottom lip through her teeth, and I feel my skin catch on fire.
Because I want to kiss her so bad I can taste it.
I step forward and look down into her face, getting nice and comfortable staring in her eyes which dilate wider with every microsecond that ticks pass.
“Sarah, don’t be rude,” I say just as softly.
There it is; her pupils dilated. I rejoice in my head and watch, amused, as her lips part, and she sucks in an indignant breath.
“I wasn’t being rude. I’m sorry, but I just—you don’t have to—” Sarah stutters before going silent.
Her face heats up. She glances down at my feet, and I just know that she feels this thing between us. I'm not alone in how badly I want what is growing between us. It's planted deep, and it's so strong I can feel it in the silence.
“Sarah, look at me, please." I tilt my head at her, putting a finger under her chin and pull her back up to meet my eyes, giving her what I pray is a gentle smile and not predatory. “I was only teasing you. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re my guest, sweetness. Now, can I not treat my guest how I want?”
Sarah narrows her eyes at me and scrunches up her nose. “Within reason. Yes. Fine, you can pay for my food,” she grumbles, adopting a rather adorable pouty face that I’ve never seen from her before.
“Thanks a lot,” I laugh, sliding the room key in the door and pushing it open, gesturing for her to proceed ahead of me.
“Oh, this is so darling, Mr. Richardson!” Sarah coos, flicking on the light and going straight to the air conditioner.
My dick swells so hard at her words that a flash of pain radiates through my lower abdomen. “It’s Doct—“ I start to say before pausing, feeling a perplexed then annoyed look cross my face.
“Are you a seventy-two or sixty-eight degree person, Alex?” she asks while pausing in front of the thermostat to look over her shoulder, clearly teasing me.
Jesus fucking Christ. I shake my head before attempting to respond.
“Definitely a sixty-eight degree person. Especially at night,” I quip, striding through the small sitting area into the bedroom where I pause upon seeing only one bed.
It's a king. Adorned with a plush comforter and lit with dimmed lights above. And it's perfect for fucking. I just know it. I lick my lips and feel my blood boiling, imagining Sarah and me in bed together again. I tense when she walks up behind me.
"I turned it to sixty-eight—" she starts, before her words cut off when she gets a look at the lone bed in the room. "Oh…"
There's that silence that says so much.
I clear my throat, flicking my eyes to hers quickly.
"Sarah, I swear to God I requested a double bed.
I didn't know." My speech is rapid as I try to explain quickly.
"I'm going back down to see if we can get another room.
" I turn to walk back out, but Sarah stops me with a hand on my arm, scrunching her nose at me teasingly.
"Oh, stop. And besides, you know as well as I do that this resort is booked full, and there are no rooms available. It's okay. We've shared a bed before, haven't we?"
I tilt my head, giving her a noncommittal grunt in response before folding my arms. I mean, sharing a bed with this woman is simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing. I hesitate, unsure.
"And it was fine, right? So, if I'm okay, can't you be okay?" she nudges me out of my musing, arching a brow at me just as a mischievous smile tugs her lips.
But I keep my gaze on hers, my tongue slicking over my lip. "Yes...I can be okay with that," I reply softly, unfolding my arms to turn back to the living room to get my bag.
She follows me out to grab hers as well and takes her toiletries into the bathroom, placing them neatly, and comes back into the bedroom, looking at me quizzically. “What are you doing?” she laughs, seeing I'd pulled out all the drawers on the left side of the dresser.
“I’m putting my clothes away.” My eyes flash to hers humorously, seeing hers wide in her face as she stares at me rather stunned looking. I go back to my task, stacking my clothes neatly.
“Woooww… I thought only women did that.”
I snap my head back up to look at her, amused. “Hey now, don’t be sexist!” I admonish, taking a stack of shirts and placing them into a drawer.
She holds her hands palm up. “Oops. Not my intention. It’s just been a keen observation over the years,” she throws back, unzipping her own luggage.
She begins to hang up dress after dress in the closet space, humming some tune while we work in comfortable silence. The both of us are obviously a little mellow from the travel and time change.
I try not to be obvious as I watch her, wanting to see what clothes she'd packed. “You like the TV on or off while you go to sleep?”
“Off. I can’t have that type of noise when I try to go to sleep.
But I do need a fan for a little white noise and to keep me from sweating through my hair.
Is that going to be a problem?” she asks, plunking a small pink portable fan onto the shared nightstand and pointing it towards the pillow.
She clicks the button, and it hums to life, making me smile.
That’s adorable, I think with amusement before pausing, wondering if I can make her sweat bad enough to curl the strands of her hair. My eyes slide to hers, constantly tortured with ways of how to get her to open up to me in this way.
“No,” I laugh, quieting as she suddenly gets a grimace on her face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing her distress.
“Uhm…so I know we shared a bed for a couple of nights when…you know,” she emphasizes, sitting on the side of the bed and drawing her legs up in a crisscross style.
Seeing her playful mood has bled into something more serious, I close the last drawer before walking over to her side and sitting in the blue chair.
“I do know,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from elaborating.
“Well….well…” She licks her lips, and her eyes flicker from mine to my chest and then back again.
“Just spit it out,” I clip, arching my brow but not able to bite back the grin spreading across my face.
“Okay, uh, it’s just that sometimes, but not all the time, I take my clothes off at night. Like by accident. I’ll wake up and won’t have anything on.” She bites her lip, turning an incredible shade of red.
My heart races, and I'm extraordinarily proud of myself that I'm able to even control my breathing, because her words engorged my already massive erection. Leaning back, I put an ankle over my knee and drape an arm across the armrest, trying to look casual.
“Hm-hmm… I see. Very unfortunate,” I drawl slowly, keeping my eyes on hers. Not giving into the urge to rake my eyes down her body like I want to. We're supposed to be two platonic professionals sharing a living space for five days. "I already know you do that."
Her eyes fly to mine and widen with surprise. "What? How?"
"You did it at my house. But I didn't see anything, I promise," I confess, keeping my eyes steady on hers as the silence of the room drapes over us and magnifies our tension to an almost unbearable level.
I purposefully stay quiet for long moments, letting the silence become heavier and heavier. Letting her know plainly that I want her, and I'm not above making us sit through extended moments of quietness to drive home that fact.
"Oh." She blinks, putting a shaking hand up to her cheek and then over to her nose ring where she starts fiddling with it.